bucketofchum · 7 months ago
Text
Im still a big romantic but definitely less romantic than I used to be
5 notes · View notes
bereft-of-frogs · 7 months ago
Text
There’s that post that’s like ‘everyone should get into a tiny niche fandom at least once’ fully agree, that was really fun -- but I would like to add that everyone should get into a fandom where their opinions run counter to major fanon because it really teaches you about sticking to your guns and trusting your interpretation of the text without having to rely on peer validation
because WHAT are people talking about sometimes
23K notes · View notes
malsorie · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Nightwarden.
3K notes · View notes
chaoticas-hell · 5 months ago
Text
Neil being demi is actually so important I will fight people on this. It fits his character so perfectly and I get upset when people erase his ace-ness just my demi king live his demi life
1K notes · View notes
calmlb · 2 months ago
Text
It’s been clear that the Tanizakis aren’t siblings from the very beginning
here’s some evidence now that it’s been confirmed canon…
everyone who’s read irl Tanizaki’s book knew that Junichiro & Naomi weren’t siblings as soon as they introduced themselves
Tumblr media
BUT just because the Tanizakis aren’t siblings doesn’t mean you can’t feel uncomfortable about them. if you feel uncomfortable, GOOD. that’s exactly what they want
the Tanizakis, Mori— they all use these disturbing ruses to disarm or distract people in order to protect themselves, or to accomplish their goals. this is a writing device that asagiri commonly employs as a way to parallel the irl literature (it’s actually ingenious)
there are 4 main indicators that have always made it clear to me that Junichiro & Naomi are not siblings:
1. most obviously— their character designs. Harukawa is extremely intentional with character designs, & she very intentionally made Naomi & Junichiro look nothing alike
Tumblr media
their eye shapes are purposely different
their color palettes are contrasting
even their differing styles of clothing have meaning
Tumblr media
this was all done so that the audience could PLAINLY see that they’re not related— so that WE know that they’re lying when they say they ARE related
Tumblr media
2. how the people around them respond to their act.
the general reaction is “don’t question it”— which is exactly what they want. “be distracted by how uncomfortable you feel so that you look away from what we’re hiding” (this is likely a protective measure)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
3. most importantly, this is meant to parallel irl Tanizaki’s book “Naomi,” where the main character Joji picks up Naomi to raise her into his ideal woman, but since she's so young (& a minor) they call each other cousins (Joji makes no sexual advances on young Naomi btw)
however, his plan backfires because when Naomi gets older & they get married, she flips the script on him & manipulates HIM so that he's under her thumb (which is why bsd Tanizaki is at a domineering Naomi's mercy). Joji let her have her way because of his masochistic tendencies
4. lastly is the emphasis that Asagiri and the Tanizakis themselves put on calling each other siblings.
over & over, it’s “my brother this” & “my sister that”
like they’re desperately trying to convince us that it’s true (“don’t let your lying eyes deceive you”)
here are just a few of many examples from the light novels…
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
again, if you’ve read “Naomi” you knew that Junichiro & Naomi weren’t siblings as soon as they introduced themselves
just like if you’ve read irl Mori’s works, it’s clear that bsd Mori isn’t a pedophile
just like if you’ve read No Longer Human you know that Dazai’s an unreliable narrator. he makes you think he’s a bad person bc he believes he’s a bad person, but those around him see him differently (btw this doesn’t mean he’s never done anything “bad,” though bsd isn’t about morality— but that’s another discussion)
anyway, i’m so excited for the Tanizakis backstory to be revealed so that we can better understand why they use this defense!!
also let this be a reminder to READ THE LITERATURE if you’re able to!! even reading synopses & analyses of the coordinating books makes bsd make much more sense 🥹
reminder that this how you’re supposed to react while reading bsd:
Tumblr media
also, if you’re interested in a post explaining how Mori isn’t a pedo, i wrote this analysis on twt. OR you can read this document that one of my moots sent me (remember: analyzing a character does NOT mean you condone any actions they may or may not commit!)
828 notes · View notes
thevioletcaptain · 3 months ago
Text
RIP Carmen, you were named after two of Dean’s favorite things ✌️😌
Tumblr media
742 notes · View notes
glacierclear · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
the mortifying ordeal of being known.
2K notes · View notes
iconicshrub · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
everything about you is a mystery!
2K notes · View notes
avocado-writing · 11 months ago
Text
home
Tumblr media
pairing: 14th doctor x reader & 10th doctor x reader
rating: E
notes: no gender or age given for reader, just that you last saw the doctor fifteen years ago. thank you to @mcganns for being my beta!!
This too shall pass.
It was a sentiment that you had to cling onto when he left, because fuck knows it was the most painful thing you’d ever felt. And you’d run away from actual explosions before. Big ones, in space! Supernovas which could eat entire planets while you hung onto the side of a little blue box. 
And yet none of it even begins to compare to when he fucking left you. 
He said it wouldn’t be forever. Well, he shouted it at you as you fell out of the TARDIS. There was a time explosion, and you got rocketed back to your little flat in the middle of Hackney, on Earth only a few days from when he’d picked you up — but in your reality months of adventure had passed. 
You’d not really settled back in, certain that he was going to come and rescue you. But then days turned into weeks into months and you finally accepted that the Doctor had abandoned you. 
So you went back to it all. Your mundane little existence before a mad, brilliant man had whisked you away. Your boss was a bit miffed that you’d gone AWOL but you were their best employee so they couldn’t afford to let you go, all you got was a slap on the wrist and a command not to let it happen again. The people you loved didn’t really seem to notice your absence that much, which stung; you couldn’t blame them though. You’d probably not miss you much either. 
The Doctor. He made you feel special in a way nobody had before. Like you were the centre of a whole, giant, fantastic universe, and he adored you for it. 
Still. 
No point mulling that over again, is there?
Fifteen years. Things did get better. You moved on eventually. But you still find your thoughts drifting back to him every once in a while, and that fragment of time you spent totally utterly in love with each other. When you think about the way he kissed you, without realising it you end up touching your lips.
No. No. Stop. 
The singing of the kettle snaps you back into reality, and you pour yourself a hot cuppa. Ah, tea. The antidote to everything. You go to turn the radio on for some company as you shift into your morning routine when you hear a knock at the door. 
Probably the postie. He’s a bit early today, you think, but make no more of it as you undo the latch and open the door. 
Your heart stops. 
Because there he is, of course. 
Older. Weathered. Not the young man you once knew but a grownup version of him, as exhausted by life as you are. 
You drop your mug. Quick as a flash the Doctor grabs it out of midair. The tea sloshes onto the floor but at least nothing gets shattered. 
He goes to look up at you, but his attention is drawn back to his hand. 
“I bought you this mug years ago,” he says, utterly amazed. 
You shut the door in his face. 
Well, you try to, anyway. But he sticks a foot in between the door and the frame, with one of those stupid Converse he always wears.
“I know you’re angry, I know. But please let me come in.”
It’s such an absurd statement you find yourself laughing, a high and desperate noise. 
“Absolutely not!” Actually, no. That’s not enough. “How dare you. Why are you even here?!”
“Because I wanted— I needed to see you.”
You still want to slam the door on him, but there’s a desperation to his voice that gives you pause. And when he looks at you with those sad, puppy-dog eyes? Those eyes as lined with age as you are?
Fuck. You’re so weak. 
So that’s how you find the Doctor sitting at your kitchen table with a cup of tea in front of him. You lean against the counter, defences still up, eyeing him from over the top of your mug. He drums his fingers against the tablecloth. 
“I like your house. Your calendar is nice, I enjoy the kitten motif.”
“Don’t,” you spit, slamming the mug down and sloshing tea onto the floor, “don’t you dare. You don’t get to waltz back here and start telling me ‘oh, I enjoy your furnishings, haven’t you made a nice little life for yourself since I abandoned you!’ I let you in to speak your piece, though god knows why. Say it and be done.”
The Doctor looks deflated. His shoulders sag, mouth falls. You take a moment to properly look at him. He seems… tired. Tired in a way you never knew him to be when you went on your adventures. Part of you wants to offer comfort, but the other part of you wants to withhold it maliciously. Anything to make him feel the way you felt. 
“I looked for you,” is what he settles on, heavily. You didn’t expect that, and it knocks you. 
“What?”
“I did. After the explosion, I tried searching all over the galaxy for you. I didn’t know where - when - you’d ended up. I scanned and scanned but something stopped you from appearing on the TARDIS’s sensors. I think… the amount of artron energy emitted during the blast somehow cloaked you.”
You say nothing, your silence an invitation for him to continue his explanation. 
“It took years. Literal years, for me. Every spare moment I had, I dedicated to looking for you. Head buried in the circuitry of the TARDIS, trying to fix whatever was hiding you, gave myself a couple of nasty shocks too. And, when I finally tracked you down, I’d regenerated.”
You blink. Right. Yes. He’d explained that, but you’d never seen it with your own eyes. The same person, a different face. 
“I didn’t know if you’d want to see me if I didn’t look like me. But I had to try anyway, didn’t I? So I came here. To your house. I got myself all ready for it, knocked on your door… and found that you were married.”
Your fingers grip the counter. 
“Oh.”
“He seemed nice. Loved you a lot, as you deserved. And I couldn’t tell you I was back, could I? I saw you pottering around in the kitchen, making the tea - you were always the best at making tea - and you were happy. How could I ask you to leave that all, uproot the life you’d made for yourself, just to jump back in the TARDIS with me? How could I be so cruel? I couldn’t, could I. So I left again. Tried to move on. Like you did.”
You’re crying now. You can feel hot tears slide down your face and soak into your jumper. 
“Oh, Doctor,” you manage. You want to tell him so much. It feels like it might burst out of you. But instead you settle on:
“Why now?”
He smiles thinly. 
“Because somehow I got this face back, and I wanted to see you. I wanted to be selfish for once.”
You find yourself at the table, on the wonky chair opposite him, sliding your hand over to cover his. It’s rough and warm. Just like you remember. He says your name with reverence, but like it pains him. 
“I never stopped loving you. Ever. Through it all, every adventure, I knew it wasn’t complete because you weren’t there. It just wasn’t the same without wonderful, brilliant you,” he admits. He sounds defeated. It breaks your heart — or, actually, it might just put it back together again. 
A beat passes. His confession lingers in the air, heavy, thick and choking like smoke from an untameable fire. 
“His name was Simon. He was a baker. He was lovely, actually… and we got divorced two years ago.”
The Doctor’s brow furrows. 
“You… what… why?”
“Because he knew there was someone else I never really let go of. Someone else who, despite everything, I still loved.”
He looks you in the eyes, and you see something glimmer there that you long since gave up on. 
Hope. 
And then, suddenly, you’re kissing. 
It’s like nothing has changed. His lips are still rough and searching on yours, a hint of tongue giving away into more the deeper you entangle. He sits you up on the table and steps into the space left by your spread legs, and between each kiss he says your name. It’s full of adoration but lined with desperation, too. 
Like the kisses he gave you the first night you laid together, on a bed in his spaceship floating across the galaxy. When he buried himself inside you and you felt his two hearts beat in rhythm with your own. 
“Doctor…” you manage. 
Fuck. You need him. You didn’t realise how badly you needed him. You didn’t realise a piece of your soul has been missing this whole time, fucking torn out of you and leaving a jagged hole in its wake. And him, back, telling you he loves you and always has? You’re patched together like kintsugi. 
Your Doctor is the molten gold you need. 
“Please. I need to…” he’s so desperate he can barely get the words out, but you nod; he’s undoing the belt buckle of your jeans and pulling them off like they’re silk. When his thin waist meets yours you cross your ankles behind him and lock him into place, and his hands - a little fumbling, a little nervous to be mapping out the plain of you again - begin to trace your chest. You lean into his touch to let him know yes. This is okay. I want this. Make me whole again. 
His warm, rough palms slide under the hem of your shirt and lift it easily over your head, the only break in a while you take from your kiss. You let yourself grab his tie to bring him closer. He’s fully dressed still and you’re almost naked; you remember how he used to like that, enjoy feeling a bit more put together than you. Cheeky blighter. Still though, as his suit scratches your skin, you can’t say you don’t agree. 
However. In this instance he has far too many clothes. 
You tug at his jacket and he knows what you need, letting it fall to the floor with his tie and waistcoat following it. He ruts against you as he unbuttons his shirt a bit, not the whole way, but just enough for you to feel the warmth of his chest. He’s so skinny. You’ve always been a bit worried that, on one of your rougher days, you might snap him in half. You still are now, actually. 
Cupping his face in your hands you let your thumbs caress his cheekbones. Your Doctor. Older but the same. Just like you. 
You can feel him more than half-hard against your leg. No more time wasting. You need him. You need him, you need him, you need him. 
It doesn’t take long to undo his fly and have him in your hand. You’ll always be glad he chose this human anatomy. Though you’d love him no matter how he looks, there’s something wonderful about his cock as it is here. He lets his head fall forward onto your shoulder with a moan if your name. 
“Oh… you’re…”
“Mmm hmm,” you agree, a genuine smile passing your face for the first time in god knows how long. He’s just the right length and on the thick side, and you know what a delicious stretch he is when he pushes inside of you. You can’t wait to feel it again. A couple of pumps and he’s ready, dripping precome and a ruddy red. Another time you’d bend down and taste him, remind yourself what a Time Lord’s cock is like. But now today. Well, not now. 
You lay back, readjusting yourself so he can push your underwear to the side and find your entrance. A couple of fingers - those long, delicate, clever and cunning fingers - press inside you and test you out. You’re ready for him. He makes a choked noise in the back of his throat as he realises and you laugh, properly, throwing your head back. 
“Come on, Doctor. Show me that you’ve missed me.”
He used to never shut up. And now he’s stunned into a desperate silence, lining up with you and pushing in as he does his best to make you feel what he’s been feeling too. 
A loneliness is fixed. He slides home inside you and your hips meet, the both of you letting out a long and ragged breath. You sit there for a moment, locked in the most intimate embrace, and just feel each other. You fist your hands in his shirt. He’s here. He’s real. You feel him trace his palm up your back as if you assure himself of the same thing. 
Slowly he begins to move. It is a long and lovely drag, his cock hitting all the points you missed being touched, and when he feels you gasp he goes harder. The Doctor nuzzles into the skin of your neck, nestling to the warmth of you there, and you hear him repeat a mantra both of your name and “I love you”.
Over and over. As if the two phrases are inextricably linked. 
You’re so full. You’re so light. Everything feels perfect in this moment. And when he reaches between your bodies to touch your sex, push you to the edge, you know you’ll climax for him embarrassingly fast. 
When you come you see stars light up behind your eyes. The sky, the unfiltered and untamed sky takes you over. The Doctor says your name one final fine and releases inside you, his hips riding it out as if to savour every second in the sweet grip of you. 
He can’t look at your face when he asks you. He says it from the safety of your shoulder where his face is buried, because if you say no you know his heart will shatter. 
“Come with me, in the TARDIS again. I know I shouldn’t ask you to leave your home but… you complete me, you know. Always have.”
“Leave my home?! Doctor, don’t be daft. This is just a house in bloody Hackney. You’re my home.”
You pull back to meet his gaze. He’s tired, but bright. His eyes twinkle. And there’s the Doctor you know. 
“And of course,” you continue. And, as the smile engulfs his face and he lights up, “it’s not like I’m doing anything else, am I?”
This time, when you go AWOL from your job, you never come back. 
1K notes · View notes
gvaine · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I like you. With you I can just be who I am. We don't have to hide anything. We don't have to worry. You're not on your own anymore. I'm going to look after you. I promise.
FREYA & MERLIN — for @merlinrarepairfest day three
1K notes · View notes
moonsidesong · 6 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
quick scribble of 14-crush's original color schemes vs how i color them now for funsies. i feel like ive gotten. a little less?? afraid??? of saturating my colors???? four and ahato... you two used to look so pale and sickly... im so sorry LOLLLL
437 notes · View notes
tomaturtles · 7 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Happy Campus Apocalypse volume 1 16th anniversary here's something to celebrate
556 notes · View notes
alkalinetrios · 15 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
my first fanart of käärijä! [reference]
151 notes · View notes
artzybumpkin · 2 months ago
Text
Dude's down on his luck, nowhere safe to go, and then out of the blue his estranged brother he hasn’t heard from or seen in over a DECADE reaches out to him requesting he come to some buttshuck nowhere town in Oregon STAT....
All the while he's about to pop....
Tumblr media
....
What could possibly go wrong??
251 notes · View notes
courfee · 2 months ago
Note
James giving reg a piggy back ride when he gets tired of walking :-(
Tumblr media
i am with you, anon.
208 notes · View notes
shreddeddescent · 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
how raph's run goes after the disaster (prev) (next)
152 notes · View notes