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#But if he knew the character….
vikos-world · 1 year
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when I ask my friend if there’s anything that reminds him of me, he answers the same, Tomoko Kuroki from Watamote. He’s never seen it before, but he looks at her and gets reminded of me apparently.
the funny thing is I can see why, black fluffy hair, tired eyes probably. But what’s even funnier is he’s never seen my face really
..do I really come off as that tired just through text-
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littlelightfish · 1 month
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Funny things I found out playing with language setting in Netflix while looking episode 15:
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Chilchuck's scream sounds HAUNTED in brazilian portuguese. Give it a try if you can.
(You can hear it here)
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In spanish dub, Senshi says: "tocó mis senos de hombre", which means "he touched my man boobs" in Spanish. And I think that's the best dub line one so far.
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canisalbus · 8 months
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Ok ok hear me out: it could end in tragedy,, AND have a happy ending. The attempt(s) on Machete’s life force him to flee, he doesn’t even have the chance to find Vasco. Cue gay longing for at least a few years while Machete despairs over the loss of his love, his life, his status. He and Vasco only reunite (again) in their later years. Their relationship is forever flavored with loss and loneliness, but that only means they savor every moment that much more
I also I would like to see them as old men. Vasco would be so droopy :)
You gave me such old dog brainworms.
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elusive-roetato · 24 days
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finally figured out the real reason im so enamored with chilchuck
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tedhugheshater · 4 months
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Thinking about how Victor Hugo wrote one of the most famous portrayals of prostitution that is sympathetic to the prostituted woman (Fantine from Les Miserables) and shows how she is forced by poverty to sell her body, how it clearly is a traumatic experience, and how much disrespect the pimps have for her in reality... And yet he continued constantly visiting brothels and using the women's bodies - so much so that a very famous rumor was created that all the brothels in Paris closed down to mourn him after his death... Kill all men?
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raveartts · 4 months
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gonna take a break and make another sketch page later :3
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egophiliac · 1 year
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his magic is so PINK and FLUFFY and PRETTY! I love it!
I'm ready to process the Diasomnias now, buckle up
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#art#unique magic posters#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland spoilers#twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers#meanwhile at the super awesome kalim dream base#anyway I KNEW IT! I KNEW HE WAS A DREAMWALKER!#VALIDATION#love me a unique magic that is only really useful in one extremely specific and exceedingly unlikely situation#sure was lucky that silver was on the island huh!#okay everybody i am about to be even more embarrassing than usual over anime characters. hold on.#but i am ALL OVER silver right now. just really really enjoying him!#i love that his reaction to all of this is anger. i love that his reaction to malleus is basically 'how DARE you'#my boy is full of righteous fury and he is going to make it everyone else's problem#his deeply-ingrained respect for mal and lilia is such a big part of his character that it's just.#always such a nice character moment when that breaks!#like when he yelled at lilia during endless halloween night! granted it was lower stakes then but. still.#it'sgoodstorytelling.jpg#meanwhile sebek is over in a corner sobbing and going 'what is HAPPENING' which is its own brand of deliciousness#god. this game really does just slam its fists down onto all of my personal 'I LIKE THIS' buttons.#and now they give me silver's beautiful pink fluffy cloud dream palace. find me a chef to kiss because MWAH#i can't believe they cut it off RIGHT before we were about to learn his backstory. i mean i absolutely can. but you know what i mean.#i have to know the meaning of the shitty acorn bracelet. twst. twst please.
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Wylan Van Eck at the sight of rare butterflies: Wow. look at these incredible and unique rare creatures. I’m going to spout copious amounts of facts about them whilst I think about how lucky I am to be witnessing this right now.
Wylan Van Eck about five minutes later: eat the pissing butterflies you fuckers or die
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doortotomorrow · 6 days
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cooper howard » adopting cx404
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stevebabey · 10 months
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totally didn’t expect the other part to do well at all but 😳 apparently i don’t know steddie fans. as such, have a part two <3 part one is here again, look out for the borrowed hunger games lines
“You’ve ruined your life, you know that, right?”
The kitchen had been basking in the lull of the quiet morning before Eddie had spoken up, breaking the silence. Steve blinks, realising he’s been zoned out staring at the swirling bubbles atop his mug of coffee and look up at Eddie across the table.
“Doing what you did.” Eddie continues. There’s this slight in his voice. Steve figures it’s not really aimed at him.
Chief Powell had agreed to not release the details of the case to the public for obvious reason. However, it went without saying that of the cops working the case, not all would be so free-thinking. There were plenty who deemed leaking the alibi and letting the town devour Steve’s reputation a more than fair consequence.
And, well, Eddie didn’t have any reputation left to tarnish or save.
Steve takes a sip of his coffee and lets the warm flavour coat his tastebuds as he tries to puts his thoughts in the right order.
He knows how Eddie sees this— sees it as this burden that he’s imposed on Steve’s life. That he had been able to accept it at first, the whispers of freedom tempting enough that he could be selfish enough to gasp them.
Then yesterday afternoon, Steve had come back from Bradley’s Big Buy with dried yolks splattered across the windscreen and regret howled through Eddie like a hurricane, fierce and wild. Realisation of what Steve had condemned himself to— no- what Eddie had condemned him to finally sunk in.
Steve can tell he’s been stewing on it all night. In the couple weeks he’s been here, staying in under the Harrington roof just down the hall from Steve, he’s surprised by how easily his brain has tacked on to Eddie’s habits. His little Eddie-ism’s. That’s what Steve calls them.
Like how Eddie’s nose will twitch if there’s something on his plate he doesn’t like, but he’s too polite to say it.
How he thumbs up and down the edge of a book when he’s reading, completely entranced. Doesn’t even notice his moving, twittering fingers.
How he’s always so much twitchier the morning after a sleep laced with terror after terror. It gives him away before Steve even see the bags under his eyes, the hollowness of his face.
Steve recognises that one from himself, from back when he’d gone through it all for the first time. The flinch is unshakeable when you’re convinced it’s all going to come back— that the world is going to tear itself up and spit out monsters you haven’t even dreamed of.
Today, Eddie isn’t twitchy like that. He’s tired, a sunken in face that comes from a bone-deep aching tiredness. He picks at his breakfast, bitterly avoiding the eggs on his plate.
And Steve can’t pretend to understand how Eddie grew up — can take his guesses but ultimately won’t get near the experiences he knows Eddie has lived through. Steve has only ever been on the other side. Stayed silent while someone else through snide comments and used the word fag like a jagged blade, to cut someone down.
So, he doesn’t know. Not even a year with Robin as his best friend and all her knowledge could’ve prepared Steve for the startling fear he’d felt when coming out of the store to the sight of a group of boys around his car, cartons of eggs in hand. One with a crowbar.
They would’ve smashed his windows if he had come out a minute later, he’s sure of it.
It had been like getting doused in icy water — the Letterman jackets on all of them, the sneers, still jeering taunts as they’d scattered across the parking lot. Steve had felt the bile rise in his throat as he got in the car and sat, staring at the steering wheel, his slimy fear melting and mixing with his anger.
Eddie’s point of view suddenly resounded within Steve in a way he hadn’t known before. Standing on tables, hollering about conformity, leaning in to every foul rumour about him— like a person drawing to full height, making himself as big as possible, to scare off a bear.
Steve gets that a little more now.
So, when Eddie tells him you’ve ruined your life he knows what he’s trying to tell him. Except, Steve doesn’t know how to say lightly that he’d gladly ruin his life to save Eddie’s. It’s too much — but Steve always is. Always loves in these big heavy ways that are too hard to handle.
So instead, he shrugs and says, “Consider it a trade.”
Eddie cocks his head, like a dog, just an inch.
“For following me into the lake and saving my life.”
Eddie scoffs and his head lolls back dramatically like what Steve’s said is ridiculous. “Jesus H Christ, dude, you saved yourself. I told you that I would’ve been too cowardly to come after you if Birdie and Wheeler hadn’t gone in first.”
He mutters the word cowardly with a hiss.
“Well then, a trade for drawing the bats away.”
“You mean the time I nearly became hamburger helper for the bats?”
“Christ, Eddie,” Steve scoffs. “I didn’t take you as someone who fished for compliments so hard.”
Eddie frowns, dropping his fork with a clatter on his plate. “I— what? I’m not- I don’t even—”
Steve cuts in. “You helped us and you saved my life, whether your horrible little brain can admit that or not. So,” He sits back in his chair with another little shrug and sips his coffee. “Equal trade.”
Eddie frowns, a crease forming between his brows. “No, not equal, Steve. You don’t get what you’ve done you— ugh, you just don’t—”
He huffs, cutting himself off, clearly unsure of how to voice his frustrations. He slumps back in his chair and eyes the eggs on his plate again with a glare this time.
Steve waits a moment and hopes he isn’t overstepping when he says, voice quiet, “I know, Eddie.”
Across the table, Eddie’s eyes raise to meet Steve’s and he doesn’t sound smug, he doesn’t sound angry, he just sounds defeated when he speaks.
“Do you?”
“Maybe not quite the extent of it until yesterday but, yes… I know.”
His words sink it and Eddie looks… affronted. His eyes get a little wide and a tremble finds his lips. Like the whole time he’d been convinced Steve wasn’t sure what he’d been getting into, that the reality hadn’t set in— that any moment he would rescind his alibi and throw Eddie to the cops and let them snap the cuffs back on him.
Steve hates that expression. Loathes that Eddie is so surprised that anyone would do this for him — something as important as keeping him alive and out of prison. Steve hates it because he knows it means that somewhere along the way, somebody had convinced Eddie that nobody would.
So, if he’s got to be the one to convince Eddie that someone will— that he will make the effort, will put his neck on the line because… well, isn’t that what Steve does best?
He’ll do it gladly.
Eddie picks up his fork and stabs his fork into the egg, the buttery yolk spilling onto the plate. Steve takes it as a truce, as him meeting him in the middle.
"So,” Steve swirls the mug in his hand and swills another sip back. Swallows it and takes a page out of Eddie’s book and goes the joke, leaning forward, forearms on the table. “If I’m gonna be your boyfriend for the foreseeable future I should probably know more stuff about you. Y’know, like, uh, the deep stuff.”
Eddie’s sunk back down in his seats but at Steve’s final sentence, he perks up. A smirking sort of grin crossing his face and Eddie twists a piece of his hair in front of his mouth. He hasn’t kept eating yet, too focused on the conversation.
"Uh-oh, the deep stuff.” He’s got that teasing tone in his voice. “Like what?"
"Like...” Steve scrambles to pull something from his brain. “Um, what’s your favourite colour?"
“Oh well, now you've stepped over the line."
Eddie’s sarcasm melts into a chuckle as Steve laughs, ducking his head instinctively. When he lifts his gaze, he’s relieved that Eddie looks a little lighter. Not much but a smidge of difference — Steve can see it if he squints. He’s sure it won’t be the last conversation they’ll have about this but for now, it’s settled.
Curiosity piques in Steve and he tries to sound casual when he says, “No, really, what is it?”
Eddie blinks and curls his hair around his finger once more, tugging it lightly. He seems to be considering his answer, eyes dropping to the sweater Steve’s donning.
“Yellow.” He finally says. “Not mustard but, y’know, lighter. Colour of the moon on Halloween or…”
“Cheese?” Steve suggests.
Eddie laughs. “Yeah, the right kind of cheese, sure. What about you? Favourite colour?”
Steve considers it — for the longest time, it had been red because Tommy had told him that red or blue were the coolest colours to like, way back in third grade. No one has asked him since then.
“Pink, actually.” Steve admits, hand coming up to brush across his nose, trying to hide behind the motion. He envies Eddie’s long curls suddenly. He feels the need to explain, more words rolling off his tongue. “Like, y’know, when the sun starts to set, like all dusky, it’s just… nice.”
Eddie’s staring at him peculiarly, his lips parted yet quirked up in this faint smile. If Steve didn’t know any better, he’d call it awe. Breaking his stare, Eddie chuckles again, finally properly picking his fork up to finish his meal.
“Steve Harrington.” He murmurs warmly, more to himself. His lips twitch with a smile. “You just keep surprising me.”
some people wanted more 🤲 uh get tagged idiot - normally i don’t do taglists but u were all so kind as to reply to the post & i didn’t get a chance to say thank u for ur lovely words! this is my thank u! have sum more!
@friendlyorange @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @lostinadmiration @life-love-musicaltheatre @oldlovershippiemusic5 @phoeniceae @catateme9 @lolawonsstuff @justagaypanda @pluto-pepsi @whoopstie @scenesofobx @justforthedead89 @musical-theatre-gay @theperksofbeingstjimmy @ikilledabuginthewall @imauselessartist @fridgebaby @lingeringmirth and uhhh @corrodedcoughin cos i still do a little squeal when u rb my tings even tho we’re mewchies :D
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The four players on dndads each fall perfectly into the four ways of playing dnd
Matt: uses the mechanics to play pretend real hard in a way that is most beneficial to the group
Beth: is perfectly in tune with her character and makes very good, compelling character choices that are sometimes v upsetting
Will: is trying so hard to kiss his friends in fiction will someone please just give this guy a break
Freddie: playing 4-D chess with himself in a way that makes me cackle at his shenanigans
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steveshairychest · 1 year
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Steve innocently asks, "Can I woo him?" during the dnd game currently going on in the Wheeler's basement.
Eddie blinks once, twice, before all the wires in his brain reconnect, and he gives Steve an amused grin. "You want to 'woo' my character?" He hopes no one can hear how fast his heart is beating as he watches Steve push their two custom-made figurines closer together. If anyone else had touched Eddie's figurine, he would have smacked their hand away.
"I want to take him to the tavern and buy him a drink."
"To get him drunk and make him spill the whereabouts of the map?" Dustin asks. Eddie leans back in his chair and watches the two of them bicker, his hand pulls a piece of hair in front of his face to hide the flustered smile pulling at his lips.
Steve scrunches up his face and shakes his head. "No, I'm wooing him, Dustin. Are you not listening?" Steve looks up at Eddie, his eyes full of determination. "Let me woo him." He says this with a nod at Eddie's figurine.
"Stop saying woo." Mike groans into his hands.
Eddie pretends to think about it for a moment. He holds up one finger and ducks behind his dm screen to 'consult' the books. "Hmm." He hums and peaks over the screen at Steve, who anxiously chews on his bottom lip while fidgeting with a d8. "You may woo me - uh - I mean, Sir Edward."
"Can I roll to stab Sir Edward? I do not want to watch this."
Eddie shushes Mike and nods at Steve, who bounces excitedly in his chair. "Go ahead, big boy. Give it your best shot." If only Steve knew that he's already got Eddie and Sir Edward completely enamoured, no further wooing necessary.
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creepypso · 1 month
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It's been a while since a hyperfixation gripped me this bad- I've been obsessed for a while now and yeah Vox is holding me hostage pff
I had drawn this picture like two months ago and it had been the first (and definitively not last..I'm so sorry) time drawing the boy <33
_ And because I'm seeing way too many people steal art in this fandom: I do not give you my consent to repost my drawings, without asking me first
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peachypunchh · 2 months
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thank you grizzly for sharing this with us after the new arthur art was posted on patreon
arthur bennett you will never be ugly to me <3
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tiredbitchposts · 1 month
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I often feel like people forget that both Shen Yuan and Shen Jiu got fucked over in the transmitgation with Shen Yuan dying and being forced to live as someone to fix that person's mistakes and Shen Jiu being forced out of his body so someone could live his life better than he did. Both of them got the shit end of the deal, that's the whole point of it, Shen Yuan may have gotten his happy ending but he'll never be his own person and he's at the mercy of the system for the rest of his life and Shen Jiu never got a happy ending but now he'll never get tortured in the most cruel ways possible and live knowing he indirectly caused the death of the person he loved the most
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lotus-pear · 2 months
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do you ever think about how in the day i picked up dazai side b dazai had to lie emotionless and soulless—like a corpse, almost—beside the man that gently brought him in, nursed his injuries, held him while he was in pain? he had to keep those suffocating bandages around his entire face, lest this man gain some sort of recognition for the little boy he saved. he had to lay there curled in the fetal position, bleeding and in pain, perhaps thinking about how, in another life, this man cooked for him, tried to build up his strength. read to him to pass the time while he curled up against him like a child listening to a bedtime story. played cards with him. saw through the heartless mafioso. the ruthless killer. and instead saw a boy.
imagine knowing this man, the man who saved you in more ways than one, was going to die one day all because he knew you. because he reached his hand into the darkness and plaintively, like a small child wanting a parent's touch, you grasped back desperately. imagine thinking all of that while that man is just a stone's throw away, making coffee in the next room just like he used to for you in another life. the scent, although you've never been here before, is reminiscent of home. and the tune he's humming? it's the silent melody that plays through your mind seven years later, for the last time as you fall backward off the building with your arms out like an embrace. but, hey. that man is alive. he's happy, although he never knew you. you can die with no regrets.
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