#WHILE LAVA LAMP WAS WATCHING FROM THE LAVA LAMP

[dragonanon]

Pomni: I. FREAKING. HATE. THE. DIGITAL. CIRCUS! Jax and Blaire make me do the Fortnite dance while they T-pose around me and shout “Go white girl go!”

#for context: blaire is my OC and the ‘fortnite dance’ in question is specifically flossing #cut to the scene of a purple rabbit and lava lamp cat with fairy wings t posing around a jester #while said poor jester flosses like her life depends on it #bubble would be t posing too were it not for that they have no arms or legs lol #gangle simultaneously crying and laughing too hard to t pose because she feels bad for laughing but it’s also funny af #zooble is chuckling from a distance and would be recording this on their phone if they had one #ragatha and kinger have no clue what’s happening and are both just watching this whole thing in befuddlement #kinger is SLIGHTLY tempted to start flossing too tho because he thinks it looks like fun #caine is just as confused but has FOMO so he joins jax and blaire in t posing around pomni like ‘am i doing the meme right?’ #he completely butchers the pronunciation of ‘meme’ tho and it just makes jax gangle and blaire laugh even harder #shitpost #tadc shitpost #the amazing digital circus #pomni #jax #tadc blaire #tadc pomni #tadc jax

[forkloverr]

MORE OLDER LEON HEADCANNONS!!!

I thought I would take advantage of me and @thebiscuithater 's older Leon brain rot AND also answer this ask that had been sitting in my inbox (SORRY!!) anyways.... infinite darkness Leon supremacy <3 🤍 - No silliness (if you know what I mean) but Leon gets a little mischievous at the end 🤍 - calls reader 'princess' 🤍 - An older Leon was in mind while writing this, but to each their own :)

stubble.

The moon is piercing through the windows, various lamps and small lights illuminate the space around you. Soft jazz is quietly playing in the background. It’s approximately 2 AM, and instead of being honked out and snoozing in your warm comfortable bed, you’re hunched over the stove, cooking a warm meal for your husband, Leon, to come back to. He had been called to an impromptu mission earlier that day, and you just knew he wouldn’t be coming home at a reasonable time. So, you sacrifice your precious sleep and prepare a home-cooked meal for him to enjoy as he rests his aching body. You softly rub your droopy sleepy eyes, picturing a sad Leon standing in front of the microwave heating up some instant ramen. That is NOT how your husband is going to look tonight, and you were sure of it. Who knows how much time had passed, it seemed like these noodles would never be done, and maybe, just maybe, you could rest your eyes a little…. It couldn't hurt, right?

As sleep seductively enchants you, a hot prickly sensation overtakes you as haunting lips plant on your neck. Large sturdy arms slither around your waist, and just before you could scream bloody murder, a familiar husky voice appears. “Well well, what is this? Isn’t it a bit late for a princess like you to be awake?” Leon whispers, kissing your cheek as those last words exit his mouth. Your body immediately relaxes, the threat of a (very hot) murderer killing you as you're making homemade ramen no longer exists. Through an obviously fatigued voice, you reply, removing your hand from the pot to rest upon his scarred hand. “I didn’t want you to come home lonely and hungry..” You feel the heat rise to your cheeks, realizing how corny that sounded out loud. (Or maybe it was the steam from the noodles) Leon’s arms squeeze you gently, his head moving back to your neck. “Mmm… How sweet of you, now I feel guilty for not bringing you anything as a repayment.” Then and there you could tell what mischievous plan he was formulating in his beautiful brain. He knew your weakness, HE KNEW very well what it would do to you. And perhaps just wanting to see you squirm, he did just that. Once again pleasant goosebumps arise from your neck as Leon kisses your neck, purposely letting his stubble graze your sensitive skin. You can't tell if you want to scream or say other things that will not be mentioned. You start to giggle, his touch heating up your whole body. Just like he imagined, you squirm beneath his touch, softly grasping at his arms that were keeping you captive. Oh but he doesn't stop, in fact it almost encourages him to keep going. It feels like lava is pooling in your stomach, and butterflies are traveling up your throat, transforming into those sugary sweet giggles he craves to hear. His steamy breath ricochets off your neck, teasing you for more. “Have I messed with you enough dear? I don't think so… maybe just one mor-” The sound of bubbles boiling over the stove interrupts his snarky torture, and immediately reminds you that you were supposed to be watching the noodles. “Oh..” You squeak. Leon finally releases you, spinning you around to look at him while also turning the heat down on the stove. Placing one calloused hand along your jaw, he kisses your lips softly. “Thank you for this love, but after we eat, don't think I’m done with you..” He winks.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy infinite darkness #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #made this for my wife

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

First of all, very in love with the digital reader fic you put out <3

But since reader expressed not knowing why they were in hell I just couldn't help myself from thinking about this-

Reader: I don't even know why I'm here, the hell did I ever do?

Lucifer: Didn't you crash over half of all the systems on earth when you were alive?

Reader: That was an accident! I was only trying to crash like...ten!

Just a goofy thought that popped into my head- destructive characters that are chaotic on accident my beloved lmao-

Kisses darling <3

-📽

Sweet silly little Lucifer with his ducks. I feel like everyone thinks he's completely aware of everything happening in Hell at all times. Meanwhile, he's just making ducks and missing his daughter and can't remember the last time he ate.

Digital Pet [Vox x Reader, but this is a Lucifer interaction]

What Do You Mean You Don't Know

You'd been surfing through the digital plane like any other day. Vox had his schedule completely full, so you were on your own the pass the time. You hopped between windows that led into various devices all around Hell.

It was hard to tell where you were most of the time, but a part of you was convinced that you could slip into the devices of demons outside the Pride Ring. You'd once seen hellhounds and succubi at a party when you'd peeked into a large screen behind a DJ on stage. The large venue was covered in honeycombs and you saw some sort of lava lamp-looking furry doing shots in the middle of the energized crowd. While the aesthetic was similar enough to what you'd seen in the sinner's little slice of Hell, it felt... different.

It was precious information you decided to hold close to your chest. Maybe you'd tell Vox one day but from everything you'd seen about his power-hungry reputation, you decided it may be best not to play your card too soon. For all you know, it was just an exclusive club with different vibes. It wasn't unheard of for demons from the other rings to come to the clubs in Pride.

You were floating through an endless hall of screens and lights, looking between the different windows into the world you couldn't hope to touch when you saw a face that made you double-take.

"Is that..." You float back and gasp as you get a closer look that confirms your suspicions. "Oh, you motherfucker!"

Lucifer let out a startled yelp, dropping the duck he'd been painting as he fell out of his chair. He'd just been minding his own business, listening to some light jazz while he made duckie replicas of his daughter and all her little friends at the hotel when a loud voice suddenly blasted over the music on his laptop.

He frowned as he looked down and saw his white pants splatted with the fresh red paint of Alastor's duck. He was on his ninth attempt at replicating the cocky jerk and had finally been on the verge of getting his stupid grin right when you startled him.

"Oh great," Lucifer grumbled as he pulled himself off of the ground. "It's already bad enough I have a growing pile of ducks dedicated to this prick, now he's ruining my clothes too."

Lucifer leaned over his desk, trying to see what sort of pop-up advertisement or virus had gotten on his system when he suddenly saw you watching him with crossed arms. Your small form glared at him from where you sat atop of his video player.

"A sinner...?" Lucifer blinked slowly before looking at you in awe. He could see your soul and recognized you as a person immediately. "What on Earth are you doing in there?"

"You tell me!" you point at him angrily. "You're the guy in charge of this shit, aren't you? What did I ever do to you?! I didn't do anything to deserve a worse Hell than everyone else."

"How should I know?" Lucifer squawked as he threw up his arms in defense... "I haven't gone outside in... wait, what day is it?"

"How do you not know?" You ask, the two of you amping each other up in your confusion. "You're Lucifer! This is literally your entire thing!"

"Uh, excuse you," Lucifer tsked as he placed a hand on his chest. "I'll have you know I am a man of ducks and dadness. Not keeping track of every soul that drops into Hell. Do you have any idea just how many of you die a day? A lot. Too many. Just. Please get better at staying alive, I beg you."

You deadpan at him before shaking your head with a sigh. "Well, do you at least know how to get me out of the digital plane? I'd like to actually eat food or let my feet touch the ground o-or sleep in a bed!"

"Uhh," Lucifer laughed nervously. "Yeaaaah, no. Nope. Sorry uh, no. Technology isn't something I really know anything about. I'd love to help but uh, yeah... no."

You groan, obviously disappointed in his answer as you flop over to the side and let your frustration win in the moment. You run a hand down your face and look up at the great devil of Hell with a sigh.

"Do you at least have any idea why I'm in Hell and not Heaven?"

Lucifer hummed, squinting at you as he ran a history check on your soul. It took a lot longer to find a reason than he expected, but then he finally landed on it.

"Ah, there it is," he muttered. "Looks like you ate the last slice of birthday cake in the fridge back in your college days."

Your jaw drops, for a couple of reasons. The top reason should have been that such a little thing damned your soul for eternity. However, your priorities were a bit skewed. Which became transparently obvious as you exclaimed, "Excuse me?! It was MY birthday cake!"

"Yeah, but they called dibs," Lucifer shook his head with a sigh. "Heaven takes dibs very seriously. And as you should know by now, I don't make the rules."

The powerful demon grumbled like a child as you recovered from the absolute bullshit that was your afterlife. It wasn't until you'd sat back up that you looked past Lucifer and finally noticed his room.

"Why the fuck are there so many ducks?"

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #i guess?? #vox x reader #digital pet

[ashrooms]

POST-COLLIDER JOHNATHAN OHNN/THE SPOT x GN!READER HEADCANONS [NSFW]

Just some thoughts I had during work that I wanted to share. I even did some doodles. These are 18+, so minors go away.

While he's lost his dick due to the collider incident, the Spot's body and skin down in that area is still very much sensitive. Even more so when there's a hole down there since the skin bordering the hole is especially sensitive.

Absolutely use your mouth on him. Whether it be gentle kisses trailing his body or biting and licking, he WILL go insane. If you start licking between his thighs, he basically short-circuits and begs you not to stop. He loves the occasional playful bite on his inner thighs.

His holes give off a slight hum, easy to miss but audible if you're close and listen in. The skin around his holes vibrates depending on how intense the Spot's emotions are. If you're doing some hole play, you can feel said skin's vibrations intensify the closer he gets. If you're touching around one of his holes when he comes, it gives you a slight shock, but nothing too unpleasant.

He gets upset sometimes when he wants to rail you but can't the way he wants to since, y'know, he's lacking in dick. This only makes him more desperate though, Ohnn tries his best to make you feel good with his hands.

Sometimes the two of you will send each other spicy texts and it just riles him up. Once it gets to be too much for him, the Spot will open up a portal and he just yoinks you, pulling you into a nearby private space. He wastes no time and pulls you close, immediately grinding on your ass for some much needed relief.

Because Ohnn's at least still sensitive down below, he loves grinding on you, especially from behind. His grip on your hips is hard enough to leave bruises but as Ohnn gets closer to coming, he pulls you in tighter, gripping onto your stomach and chest.

He'll also finger you/jerk you off while he's grinding into you, he wants you to come with him. Depending on how the Spot's feeling that day, he's either:

- Whimpering in your ear, saying how much you feel good and how much he loves you. You make him feel amazing and you're his entire world.

OR

- He's telling you that he won't hold back, he won't stop until he's satisfied and how much he loves hearing your noises. You're his and only his, don't you forget that.

You decide to surprise him with a strap-on. He's skeptical at first but is down to try it out and experiment, Ohnn's nothing if not a scientist. At first, he isn't sure he's into it until he sees/hears how much you're enjoying it. He loves it when you're vocal with him, it tells him he's doing something right. Ohnn starts off gentle, not wanting to hurt you, but after you say it's okay to go harder, he thrusts into you and that's when he starts to love it. He's finally able to fuck you how he wants. The sound of him thrusting into you only pushes him further over the edge. Similar to when he's grinding on you, his hands are gripping onto your body tightly. He never wants to let you go. Using the strap gives Ohnn a bit of an ego though, so watch out 😏🤭.

If you want to try using toys, he's open to you using a vibrator on him after the success of the strap-on. It turns him into a whimpering mess, you (with his consent) end up overstimulating him and it drives him crazy.

Since he no longer has a dick, Ohnn can't really ejaculate. Instead, his holes sort of "shrink" and "tighten" before "exploding" in size across his body. Post-nut, the movement of his holes resembles a lava lamp. Eventually, his holes morph into sort of "heart" shapes as he holds you.

#the spot #atsv #johnathan ohnn #jonathan ohnn #atsv spot #atsv the spot #atsv ohnn #johnathan ohnn x reader #jonathan ohnn x reader #the spot x reader #across the spiderverse #my text posts #my art

[sh4wty18]

hii can you write a long fluffy Johnnie x reader? 🙏🫶

of course! i hope you love it :)

date night.

pairing: johnnie guilbert x reader

summary: after a long night of filming, you decide to surprise your boyfriend by bringing date night to him.

cw: fluff, language

word count: 1.0k + edited

---

After a long day of filming videos for both his and Jake’s channels, the one thing Johnnie feels up for is spending time with you. He would always make time for you, no matter what. Tonight, he had been busy filming back to back videos with Jake in their filming room, presumably testing weird Amazon products or trying new snacks from a convenience store. 

You knew Johnnie would be exhausted after filming, so you decided to surprise him with dinner and a movie. You had a key to their house, so you let yourself in quietly, so that they wouldn’t hear you. Then, you ordered your favorite go-to meals from Dave’s Hot Chicken, and had them delivered. You’d also built a cocoon of pillows and blankets on Johnnie’s bed, and brought your favorite lava lamp from your apartment to light the room– nothing too bright which could induce a headache. After grabbing your dinners and sneaking them back into Johnnie’s bedroom, you wait in the dimly lit room for your boyfriend to enter.

By around 9 pm, you hear muffled voices from down the hall, no doubt Jake and Johnnie discussing the editing and posting schedule for their videos, as they usually did after filming. Then you heard Johnnie ask, “Do you smell chicken, or is it just me?” 

“No, dude, I smell it too… that’s fucking weird,” Jake replies with a laugh.

“Whatever, maybe we’re both going fucking insane,” Johnnie laughs, before opening his bedroom door, “Goodnight!” he calls out to Jake, and turns around. He’s taken aback at the sight of you curled up in his bed, waiting for him. “Y/n?” he closes his bedroom door and runs over to you, hurling himself into bed and wrapping his arms tightly around your body. “What’re you doing here? Did you set all this up for me??” 

You giggle as he kisses the top of your head, “Yes! I wanted to surprise my hardworking boy with a treat tonight.” 

“Oh babe, you’re the best, thank you,” Johnnie starts, tilting your chin up with his thumb and pointer finger and pulling you in to kiss your lips. “Have I ever told you I have the best girlfriend of all time?”

“Hmm… nope, I don’t think you have,” you joke, scratching your head with fake confusion.

“Well, she’s the best. She’s the most beautiful, smart, kind, thoughtful person I’ve ever met, and I love her more than anything,” he grins at you.

“You aren’t too bad yourself, boyfriend.” you nudge him in the side softly, and plant a kiss on the side of his neck. “I got your favorite,” you shake the Dave’s Hot Chicken bag in front of his face, and he grabs it happily. 

“I knew I smelled chicken!” he shouts gleefully, taking a sandwich out of the bag and handing it to you, then taking the other one for himself, placing your shared order of fries on the paper bag between the two of you.

“What do you wanna watch, Johnnie?” you ask, “It’s your pick, tonight is all about you.”

“You can pick, baby. You know I suck at picking movies. Anything you wanna watch, you know I’ll wanna watch.” He kisses the top of your head again, and gently rubs circles into the small of your back as he watches you search up one of his favorite movies, Edward Scissorhands. 

“Edward and Kim remind me of us,” you whisper in his ear as the opening credits begin, and you kiss his cheek, feeling his smile stretch across his face. 

You spend the next twenty minutes leaning over your sandwiches and fries, eating silently while watching the film. After you’re both done eating, you get up to throw all the trash away. Johnnie scoots over in your blanket cocoon, patting the space next to him, indicating for you to rejoin him. You jump back into the fort, finding a comfortable spot between his legs, laying back against his torso. He leans against the pillows and wraps his arms around your sides, intertwining both his hands with yours. 

You tilt your head back to look at him, and he leans down to kiss your lips spiderman style. You smile against his mouth, “Baby, watch the movie,” you giggle, “there’ll be plenty of time for messing around after.” 

Before you know it, you’re drifting off in his arms, which Johnnie is prepared for. He slowly maneuvers your body so you're laying on your side next to him, and he lowers the volume of the movie. He lays down beside you and wraps his arm around your waist, resting his other hand under his pillow. 

Just as he’s about to drift off as well, he feels you jolt awake. You turn to face him, wrapping your arm around his waist as well, so you’re holding each other. 

“Did I fall asleep again?” you ask quietly.

Johnnie giggles under his breath, “Yeah, baby. But it’s okay. I’m sleepy too.” he leans in to kiss you, pulling your body closer to his, and you move your hand up to hold the back of his neck. 

It’s a slow, sloppy make out– the best kind. The kind that you both know isn’t going to lead anywhere. It’s romantic, a way to deepen your connection and express your love for one another.

“I love you so much, and I’m proud of you everyday.” you whisper between kisses, as you catch your breath. You play with his hair, softly twirling your fingers through it, and he traces his fingers up and down your back. 

“I love you more.” he kisses your nose, “you're the most perfect girl in the world.” 

He turns to lay on his back, allowing you to wrap your arm around his stomach, and drape your leg over his. He rests his hand on top of yours, and turns to smile at you. Neither of you have to say another word, there’s nothing to be said that you both don’t already know.

So instead, you lean in to press your foreheads together. He kisses you again, long and deep. When he pulls away, you bury your head in the crook of his neck, kissing him one last time before getting comfortable for the night.

“Goodnight, angel,” he whispers up at the ceiling.

“Goodnight, my love,” you breathe into his neck, before drifting off to sleep in his arms. 

---

do you guys prefer this type of fluffy fic, or do you like more plot beforehand? let me know! as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

#sh4wty18 #original one shot #one shot #original fiction #fluff #fluffy one shot #johnnie guilbert fluff #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert fanfic #johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert one shot #johnnie guilbert x you

[thefirst3chapters]

Overanalyzing the Danes family again and thinking about how they react to change:

Liz appears to have an affinity for material objects. When Luke goes to Liz and TJ's place in S7, they have lots of Renaissance faire decor, supplies for making jewelry, quite a few other decorative items, and what appears to be a sizable Beanie Babies collection. That could just be their style, but it's interesting that Luke mentions in S4 that Liz has ended up in situations where a guy leaves with her belongings and clears out her bank account. Perhaps having a lot of physical things around her that aren't very expensive and probably aren't family heirlooms makes her feel safe and gives her a sense of control when everything else changes. Those things might not be as likely to be stolen, and if they go missing she can acquire more.

In S6, Liz tells Luke after a successful run selling jewelry that she doesn't know what to do with all the money, and Luke's suggestion of putting it in a bank hadn't occurred to her. Maybe when Liz came across some money she liked going to thrift stores and getting as much as she could afford. I'm picturing her finding yet another lava lamp or doll and saying, "I feel a connection with this one, don't you think it belongs with us?" while four-year-old Jess, who has been dragging around Curious George Learns the Alphabet for months, stares at her blankly.

Most of the things Jess seems to value are sources of ideas (books and music) or have a clear practical purpose (his clothes, watch, and car). One notable exception is the bracelets he has in addition to the one he temporarily keeps from Rory, and there's that ring he has in AYITL. Maybe there's a story there, and it's possibly an interesting connection to Liz's interest in jewelry (cue the everlasting Gilmore Girls theme of being like your parents even if you don't realize it or try to resist it). Twice we see Jess moving out of town with just what he can carry, and it happened offscreen when he went back to New York. Luke points out that Jess doesn't have much when first gets to Stars Hollow, but he doesn't seem to mind and says that Liz will send the rest later. In that episode, Liz tells Luke it will be that Friday. When all this stuff arrives 10 episodes later, there is of course comedic value in Luke's frustration at being trapped by mountains of boxes, but it's interesting that there is so much, and Jess doesn't seem to care about most of it. Did Liz think Jess would be comforted by this in the way she might be? Even with the extra space when the addition is built, a lot of those things realistically would not have been kept. Jess doesn't seem to own much besides books when he's in his New York apartment either.

Liz is more gregarious than Luke and Jess, but she also appears less affected when people she loves are absent. Liz calls Luke to see if Jess got to town alright in his first episode but famously doesn't ask about Jess going back to New York for the holidays. In S4, Liz is happy to see Jess both times he is in town, but she doesn't go out of her way to find out where he is or if he's okay. In S6, when she projects her concerns by telling TJ that he's going to mess up their child and throws things at him, she tells Luke that TJ left her like all the guys before him, but she's calm about it because of her "new come-what-may philosophy." Luke's the one who intervenes and gets TJ to come back while Liz is busy making new friends, and then Liz is glad to reconcile with him. Maybe Liz's apparent ease with all of this and her inclination toward meeting new people is how she's gotten through all of the losses she's experienced. She's predisposed to moving on.

Jess isn't social by nature, and as a teenager he's extra resistant to being around other people. However, in the two examples we see, once he gets emotionally attached to someone, it's for life. Being estranged from Luke and Rory affects him deeply and for a long time, and when he reconciles with them he makes it clear how important they both are to him. When he's working at Truncheon, he and his co-workers are friends, and he's conversational enough to be a successful businessperson in that environment, but April still notes that "men in this family aren't chatty" when she meets him.

For Luke, the circle of people he likes being around is small, but to those people he's extensively loyal ("Once Luke Danes is in your life, he's in your life forever"). The absence of someone he cares about clearly distresses him, and he tends to seek solitude in response. His apartment isn't cluttered, but he seems to have kept high school trophies, and he has a strong emotional attachment to things that are connected to his family: the diner, the "William's Hardware" sign, the boat, and his grandmother's bedroom furniture. Luke's life has been a bit more stable because he's the one who stuck around to take care of his parents and run the family business, and he's often hesitant to accept change. When metaphorical storms uproot Liz and Jess and take them elsewhere, they have contrasting coping mechanisms that they take with them while Luke stays behind and tries to hold down the fort, and eventually Jess finds stable footing and is able to help him. Or something like that.

#gilmore girls #gilmore girls meta #liz danes #jess mariano #luke danes

[angel-with-paper-wings]

The Magician’s Prelude

This is a gift for @erik-carierre posted with permission! Many thanks for your feedback and support!!

Summary: Erik’s morning routine while working as a magician in Russia prior to his recruitment by Nadir. Based on Kay!Erik.

Cover art and title by @erik-carierre

Content warnings: PTSD-like trauma flashbacks, bloody/gory imagery, slightly graphic descriptions of violence, body negativity (Erik is an angsty teenager)

Blood. There is always blood.

It oozes around the shards of mirror buried in the skin of my hands…it drips in thick crimson blobs onto the bundle of golden fur…it spatters in hot torrents against my chest and sticks to the open buttons of my shirt…

And it is there again that night. In the rooftop garden, I stand paralyzed staring at the gap in the crumbled balustrade. My chest feels hollow—I cannot breathe, I cannot scream—all I can do is watch as the gap yawns before me, pulling me closer. Against my will, I peer over the edge to view the sight I know is there.

I wish I could blink. I long for even the tiniest respite from what lay before me, but all I can do is look. Her body is small amidst the shattered rubble, her thin delicate limbs laying at odd angles, her soft barley hair matted with flecks of blood and gore. And her eyes…her pale eyes snuffed of all fire that had once bubbled inside of her like smoldering lava. They stare blankly up at my unmasked face, looking but not seeing.

All she ever wanted was to look at me…and now all I can do is look. Look at what I have done.

I awakened with a jolt, my eyes flying open and clenching the thin woolen blanket to my chest. One skeletal hand flew up to my face, and only once I felt the smooth hardness of the mask did I relax. After a moment of composure, I opened my aching jaw and heaved out a sigh of annoyance. The nightmares were as persistent as they had always been.

I sat up in bed and fumbled to light the oil lamp on the nightstand. I had no difficulty getting prepared in complete darkness, but I simply preferred not to after a night of haunting visions. A small clock beside the lamp told me it was early in the morning—earlier than I typically rose, but I was already resigned to the fact that I wouldn’t be sleeping any more if I tried.

I flung the woolen blanket to the side and felt the floor creak beneath my bare feet. The inn’s modest wooden room was comfortable enough for my needs: a bed with sheets, a chamber pot, a pitcher and washbasin, and most valuable of all, privacy. There had been a mirror, but I removed it soon after arriving.

I yanked off my nightshirt, letting the room’s warm air graze the scars slashed across my back. Russia had intriguingly hot summers; the books I had read as a boy only bothered to describe the harshness of the winter months, so I confess to being slightly bemused upon my arrival three years ago to a city with a climate only moderately cooler than the one I had left behind in Italy.

Her twisted body flashed before me again, the broken masonry wet and crimson from the split in her skull… I closed my eyes and angrily shoved the image back into the shadows of my mind. No. No more thoughts of that place. I poured water from the pitcher into the washbasin and dunked in a bar of perfumed soap. Once it had worked up a lather, I soaked a clean cloth and derisively began to wash myself.

The dawn of my body’s maturity had proven to be a dismal affair. It took my bones the full extent of my nineteen years to finally cease their growing, leaving me wretchedly gaunt and pitifully covered in pasty yellow skin. I had the strength of a man twice my age and triple my weight, but my frame still refused to resemble anything but a corpse. In my frustration, I scrubbed harder at my own flesh, attempting to cleanse it of its rotten color. But it remained as it always had, pulled tight over my arms to display veins and tendons, with the only thickness found in the old silvery scars adorning my wrists and hands.

Once I had scoured myself raw, I slung the cloth over the rack of the washstand to dry and stared down into the bottom of the basin. Silence screamed in my ears and my stomach twisted with dread. I turned my head to glance at the door behind me; the lock was securely in place, but the familiar prickle of eyes stung my skin all the same.

With trembling fingers, I removed the mask. Warm air rolled across my bare skin like a caress, or what I imagined a caress to feel like. I set the white sculpted shard aside on the stand, and after a heavy sigh, I bent over the basin and scooped handfuls of water over my head, scrubbing the soap’s lather deep into my thick black waves of hair. Droplets ran down the edges of my face, as if even they were afraid to touch the horror that was there. But I forced them to touch it, rubbing the water into the cracks and distorted furrows of my skin, smearing it around the protruding bones and into my eyes’ sunken pits. I braced myself with a grimace before carefully wiping the dried mucus away from the edge of the hole that was my nose.

The torture ended when I finally buried my repulsiveness in a towel. I held the soft cloth against my face as my other hand reached for the mask, slipping it back into place with a relieved sigh. I squeezed my dark hair free of water, then picked up a comb and worked it through the curls until they attained sufficient softness. I laid the towel and comb to the side and stepped over to the tiny wardrobe, withdrawing one of many black satin shirts and slipping it on. After dressing myself, I left my room and slinked down the stairs as a soundless shadow.

The empty tavern on the first floor simmered with the savory scent of shchi. This early in the morning, the only other soul awake was the ancient innkeeper preparing the first meal of the day. I scattered a handful of kopecks onto the bar, letting the clattering sound echo into the kitchen. A minute later, the shawled woman doddered forward and set a steaming bowl of cabbage soup and a chunk of crusty bread before me. No words or glances were exchanged, no questions were asked, as was our routine.

I suspected she found me strange—indeed, I have yet to encounter a soul who didn’t—but she seemed to tolerate me well enough. After her defective coal stove found itself repaired the day following my arrival, I was able to convince her to let me use her inn’s far room as a flat for several months. Unlike my fellow tenants, I paid precisely on time, never returned drunk or belligerent, and there was no risk of women being snuck into my bed. After all, what woman would be desperate enough to lay with a corpse, regardless of the payment offered to her?

With this bitterness lingering in my head, I ate my meal quickly and slipped out into the morning’s haze. It was a rare day; the air was pleasantly cool and the clouds had chosen to don a color besides their usual dismal grey. I assured myself that no one was watching before I lifted my head to admire the way the branches of trees cast their dark silhouettes against the paling sky.

The western quarter of Nizhny Novgorod was largely deserted, making it easy to dart through the city’s shadows unseen in my black attire. Once the day hit its sweltering peak, the cobbled streets would resemble the Volga river with rushing currents of wealthy merchants and colorful travelers from Europe and India and Persia. By that time, I would be waiting for them in my magician’s tent, where they would be shown more wonders than their feeble minds could possibly comprehend.

I rounded a corner and walked along the silent boulevard, until the trees bordering the street gave way to a wrought-iron fence. Beyond the fence, majestically imposing against the northwest horizon, stood the blinding white structure of the Spassky Cathedral. Pink wisps of sunrise stretched across the sky and barely kissed the golden spire atop its great dark cupola.

As I so often did on clear mornings like this one, I felt compelled to stop and gaze up at the splendid piece of architecture. My eyes danced over its fine pillars and elegant façade, admiring the expert carving and delighting in the exquisite use of symmetry and proportion. I had snuck inside once in the dead of night to glimpse its interior—what beauty! It lacked the scale of greater cathedrals, but in golden grandeur it did not disappoint.

There was a time when I had imagined building such great works myself. Beneath the creaky bed back at the inn lay several journals filled with sketches of the spectacular monuments I saw when I closed my eyes. The pages overflowed with details of magnificent marble façades and great towering pavilions, gilded figures in copper and bronze, ornate mosaics with details that dazzled the imagination. My architectural creations would be shrines of worship, not to any one god but to all forces that stirred the spirit and awakened man’s deepest emotions—art, geometry, magic, and most of all music. Oh, how I missed music.

Often this fantasy crossed my mind, and with every day and every kopeck in my purse, it seemed less and less like a child’s dream. After all, I was still very much in my youth…perhaps that day was still to come.

Once I had admired all I could bear, I tucked my masked face back down between my narrow shoulders and trudged off through the neighborhood of shops and teahouses. A smattering of humans were beginning to converge on the street that I walked: small groups of traders bickering in foreign tongues and leading wooden carts filled with wares to sell. Like me, they trampled up the soggy road to the shadow of the large red and yellow stone building, beyond which lay a great courtyard overlooking the bank of the Oka. It was here in the summer months that the great Markaryev Fair was held, where tradesmen and entertainers alike earned their gold.

I proceeded underneath the building’s archway and entered the city’s courtyard. Vendors were already busy erecting tents and unloading their goods in designated sections around the square. Past cotton bales and crates of tea and spices, I spotted the oval shape of the familiar black yurt tucked in its corner, untouched as always. I never worried about the tent’s safety during my absence, for a rumor of a deadly curse had found its way amongst the traders that effectively warded off potential burglars.

As I walked, a warm breeze wafted through the market’s open air, carrying a strain of musical notes to my ears. My heart jumped and I whipped my head towards the sound. On the other side of the courtyard sauntered a muzhik fiddler, beard scraggly and legs stumbling as if drunk, the bow screeching as it was dragged across the rusty strings. A couple passing by threw a few coins into the hat that lay at his feet.

Under the mask, my lips pulled back in a snarl. How dare these fools reward such a tuneless, insolent mockery of music! That drunken bastard did not deserve the right to place his filthy hands on an instrument and spoil its sacred beauty for the whole city to hear. My bony form seethed beneath its black clothing, but I successfully fought back my fervid rage and stomped off towards the yurt. I clenched my shaking hands at my sides, imagining the feeling of the man’s throat beneath my fingers; a sharp snap from his neck and those dreadful notes would finally fall silent.

A crunch against the stones. The heavy tumble of rubble against the ground dampens the sound of her skull cracking open…

I entered the dark tent and pulled the fabric flaps closed behind me, blessedly muffling the horrid noises. A deep breath steadied my hands, and with practiced precision I navigated the small space and lit candles tucked in little red lanterns, banishing the darkness and revealing the blood-red of the yurt’s interior. Swooping red curtains hung from the concave ceiling; samples of shyrdak hangings formed the walls, weaving in swirls of black and gold into the otherwise scarlet room. I kicked off my shoes and felt the luxurious softness of the thick Persian rugs buried beneath velvet cushions.

I ignited the small charcoal stove to boil water in the samovar for tea. While it brewed, I reclined back against the cushions and turned my attention to the long wooden box tucked near the back of the tent: the trick casket. My fingers deftly pranced over the mechanism to open the box, and I withdrew the materials for my magician’s performance: decks of cards, stacks of silver coins, hand-carved trick dice. I arranged them all in neat rows upon the central rug with a small grin.

I struck another match and lit a few sticks of incense to flood the space with their heady, sweet fragrance. I had learned over time that it was beneficial for the minds of my audience to be stripped of their defenses—that way, they found my tricks more dazzling and dropped more rubles into my bony hand. Sometimes this state of enchantment would make them too bold, and bring out their insatiable nature that they otherwise hid from their gods during prayer in the temples and cathedrals. They became ravenous, foolishly curious; they would grope for my mask and demand to see what lay beneath…

All she wanted was to see me.

My hands curled upon themselves, extinguishing the match’s flame between my fingertips. The wretched visions played through my mind again and numbed the burn on my skin.

A mirror shard clenched between the tips of tweezers…bloody hands furiously digging at the grassy dirt…the heavy clunk of a knife’s hilt as the belt dropped to the floor… It was difficult to understand why I remembered certain details so clearly, while others merely faded into murky shadows.

Over the course of three years, the girl’s living face had become fuzzy in my memory. Indeed, I had only dared to look at her a handful of times while living with the master stonemason. Every time I did, my chest would fill with an uncomfortable constricting sensation, and I would be forced to look away or else stop breathing altogether. Her eyes had a heat that scorched all the way to my soul. She was fire—bold, passionate, all-consuming—and I knew better than to risk being burned. Or perhaps I was afraid.

But it was the moment I finally gave her what she pleaded for, the moment I ripped off the mask—her expression of pure horror, anguish and primal fear, grief for love she had never truly felt. That image would always remain in my memory perfectly in focus.

I slowly opened my hand, and I stared down at the two spots of black soot left upon the pale skin of my thumb and forefinger. Temporary scars, easily washed away. That’s all these dreams were to me…but still the pain they carried hurt more than the deep wounds left on my body.

With a harsh huff, I flicked the remnants of the match away and reached over to the samovar to pour myself a cup of tea. The earthy liquid seared down my throat and revived my senses, kicking the brooding memories away in favor of my present enterprise. Outside my tent, I heard the growing clamour of the fair coming to life—my audience awaited me.

A familiar pang prodded at my heart. Was this all? Would this pitiful life, shrouded away in a performer’s tent, forever be my purpose? In my heart, I longed to use my skills to create the majesty that filled my mind: grand palaces, ingenious machines, symphonies without equal. If I had to be confined to mindless magic tricks for greedy imbeciles, then they would be the best magic tricks ever conceived. In a way, I thought to myself scornfully, I had not left that traveling fair…perhaps I never would. But at least things were different now. I was my own master, and no one would ever cage me again.

As the incense swirled its sickly-sweet aroma through the air, I slipped further back into my tent and drew a sheer red curtain across my masked form. I laid back in my trick coffin and heard several soft clicks as the mechanism closed the lid and cloaked me in darkness—the one place I have ever truly belonged.

Long ago, I had accepted my place as prince of darkness, and I would reign over my realm with proud finesse. So let them in now, the merchants and peasants from all corners of the world. Let them think they are the kings and I am their fool. Let them believe they know what it is like to be afraid.

Let them in, and let them look.

#poto #phantom of the opera #susan kay phantom #my writing #fanfiction #poto fanfiction #erik poto #erik phantom

[tmntheadcanons]

tmnt 2003 headcanons: sleeping

Leo:

The room needs to be pitch black, dead silent and ice cold for him to fall asleep.

And he is a very light sleeper. I feel like he was always a bit like this but also trained himself to wake up quickly and easily when he hears something.

And he sleeps straight on his back like he is in a coffin.

And he sleeps with one pillow and it's the same, flat pillow he has been using for the last 10 years.

He won't go to sleep unless he knows everyone is home.

I think the difference between him and Donnie would be that Donnie doesn't let himself sleep but Leo actually can't sleep. I feel like he's naturally a bit of an insomniac but when he tries to sleep he kinda spirals in his own thoughts and stresses himself out.

But it's not always stress that keeps him up it'll be like the song Mikey was singing the same four lines of all day is now violently stuck in his head keeping him awake and he's thinking about how he is going to murder his brother in the morning.

Mikey:

Sleeps with a minimum of 5 pillows. One for spooning, two for his head, one for his feet and one to violently throw off the bed while half asleep at 3 am.

He can really sleep anywhere though. (And he will)

He talks in his sleep. He'll mutter a lot of non-sensical stuff and also he'll sometimes just straight up laugh in his sleep. And he rolls around a lot during the night.

I think Mikey has the wackiest dreams. His dreams are very vivid and if someone shows up in his dream he will go out of his way to tell them about their guest star appearance in his absolutely off the wall bonkers dream.

Also he is the one who has the most nightmares

He likes to sleep with a little bit of noise. He likes the tv playing or music playing while he's falling asleep and if it's dead silent he'll find it a little unsettling.

Same with lights, he likes to have a lava lamp or some sort of soft light on in the room.

I think he would go absolutely feral for one of those galaxy project lights.

Also he's totally a blanket hog.

Raph:

The second his head hits the pillow he is out.

He could be mid conversation and just pass out. But it's only ever when he knows he can. He's good at staying awake if he needs to keep watch but if he's relaxed he can fall asleep in like 30 seconds.

And he sprawls out when he sleeps. He will starfish.

Or be half hanging off the bed.

And he violently snores.

And talks a little bit in his sleep too but not as much as Mikey, just every once in a while.

His dreams are super mundane. He'll come back from an absolutely wild experience, fall asleep and then dream about like doing the dishes.

But every once in a while he'll get a bad stress dream. I could see it being something social related like humans finding out about them and freaking out, or his whole family being upset with him because of something he did.

I feel like Raph would like a bit of white noise when he sleeps, like a fan or something. He doesn't need it to fall asleep, but he likes it.

Like Leo, he is also a bit of a light sleeper, but he falls asleep again pretty quickly after he wakes up.

Donnie:

He's good at staying awake for long periods of time but once he's out, he's OUT.

Must be physically shaken to wake him up.

He is frequently sleep deprived so every once in a while he will crash and sleep for like 14 hours. Most nights he goes to bed way too late especially when he's working on something but usually when he's finished he'll have a recovery day.

Like I said with Leo, his issue is that he doesn't let himself sleep. He won't actually go to bed he will just suck back coffee and keep doing what he's doing. However, I could see him having similar issues as Leo after Good Genes or SAINW, where he overworks himself at night to avoid spiraling thoughts while he's trying to fall asleep.

I feel like he's bad for being like "Okay I'm going to stop working and actually go to bed" and then instead of sleeping he sits in the dark on his computer on the internet until 4 in the morning.

He curls up when he sleeps he never sleeps just flat on his back.

But he'll always wakes up in a weird position he'll be like upside town on his bed in what looks like a yoga position and be like "How did I get here?"

#tmnt #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2003 headcanons #tmnt headcanons #I'm sorry these are kind of more angsty than I meant them to be. I started out with haha Raph snores and then it kind of spiraled

[completeoveranalysis]

[7]

Ooh I will say the expression of dark rage on Evil Wolverine is MAGNIFICENT here. They really went all out. This is gorgeous. 

Considering I hate looking at the man THIS looks fantastic! 10/10 Evil Wolverine panel, maybe only beaten by the one where he gets stabbed. 

And I suppose if you were going be mad about anything, being stabbed through the chest is a pretty reason.

Oh!

I mean yeah, I guess that is how it works. You stab a man and he wants to stab you back. 

On a side tangent I love that he has the same Pull-Sword-Out-of-Hand magic that Fai used on Kurogane before they went to Seresu. I’m a fan!

Fai and Kurogane are markedly less excited to see it come back this way but I think it’s neat!

MEANWHILE try not to think about Kurogane, who has spent his entire life haunted by the image of Evil Wolverine stabbing his mother with that sword, is now watching Evil Wolverine pull out the same sword to stab his son. 

I am interested in the hands in the final panel though let’s see what that means. 

OH. 

Oh. 

Yeah I suppose this too would also happen. 

If anyone WAS going to be stabbed by Evil Wolverine here it WOULD be Syaoran jumping in the way to save Lava Lamp. 

We get the whole reversal of Syaoran stabbing Sakura in Nihon, but now he is now defending them and being stabbed in return. 

Potentially foreshadowed in Outo with Syaoran being stabbed by Seishirou there as well. 

(As well as when Evil Wolverine kills Xing Huo, who ALSO betrays him while working for him, who ALSO got stabbed all the way through with the same sword, ALSO IN THE SERVICE OF SAVING LAVA LAMP)

And Syaoran closing the loop of, like… Lava Lamp defending Syaoran by giving him half his soul to protect him from Evil Wolverine, and now Syaoran defending Lava Lamp by protecting him physically from Evil Wolverine. The giving of a soul and the giving up of a soul to save each other from the same man.

IT ALL LINKS UP. 

#Am I thrilled about it? #No! #IS IT NARRATIVELY SATISFYING? #UNFORTUNATELY YES! #YES THIS SYMBOLICALLY SLAPS #Is there time to save him please I still love my clone son #Liveblogging the reservoir chronicle #Tsubasa #Vol 209 #Evil Wolverine #Lava Lamp Guy #Syaoran #Syaoran vs Syaoran vs S T A B #I… #OH THE CHAPTER COVER ART? #THE FLASHBACKS FROM SYAORAN’S POINT OF VIEW? #RECAPPING HIS MEANINGFUL RELATIONSHIPS?? #RIGHT BEFORE HE GETS STABBED ALL THE WAY THROUGH??? #UHOH

[marvelmaniac715]

I made Webby and the Lords in Black on Sims 4 a while ago:

Here’s Wiggly:

I was really proud of his hair. I also gave every Lord and Webby their own special room/building, so here’s Wiggly’s:

Decorating isn’t my strong suit but his room was the most fun to design, I was thinking mostly of a grand palace, mostly in green, with a fireplace and a table with thrones for him and his siblings to meet at - notice the white throne for Webby?

Here’s Pokey:

I couldn’t find a beret so I went for a Phantom of the Opera style fedora, but the eyes I found were PERFECT (side note - they are all spell casters because that made the most sense considering their godly powers). Here’s Pokey’s room:

I’ll be honest, I accidentally mostly forgot to give him instruments, my idea for this room was to explore his different interests because he spends most of TGWDLM trying to figure out what people want, and that’s reflected in the different activities in his room. I also gave him cool wallpaper that reminded me of a beehive as a cute nod to that - I think I gave him a violin in the end that you can only really see from a different angle.

Here’s Tinky:

My inspiration for Tinky’s look here was anime characters, much like in NPMD, but I found the perfect goat eyes for him that totally add to his look. Here’s Tinky’s room:

I gave Tinky every clock I could find, but the vibes of the room were definitely meant to replicate the cube with insane patterns meant to drive someone mad; there’s a rock climbing wall in the corner that I think alludes to Tinky’s feral energy.

Here’s Blinky:

I’ll be honest; this hairstyle for Blinky was what inspired me to recreate the eldritch siblings on the Sims, it just seemed perfect, and of course I made his eyes massive so he can have a good look at everyone. The sunglasses also seemed pretty accurate to me. Here’s Blinky’s room:

My idea for this room was to give Blinky things to watch - so there’s loads of tvs, a camera, comfy chairs and even spy tech in a corner in case shoes get too unrealistic for him. A small detail that I wanted to point out is that in every room for a Lord, I have placed lava lamps on their bedside tables that match their colours, funnily enough I just found them in the game anyway and they were a perfect fit.

Here’s Nibbly:

A fluffy jacket, pigtails and a big mouth, what else do you need for an accurate Nibbly? I love that jacket, I wish I owned it in real life. Here‘s Nibbly’s room:

Okay, this is essentially a fancy kitchen with a cupcake machine, a wardrobe, a vanity and a bed - I ran out of ideas here. Still, I think it’s cute and I think Nibbly would like it if he ever got midnight food cravings. This room could save lives.

Finally, here’s Webby:

I honestly think that Webby is the most accurate, I was looking at reference images for all of them but that dress seems like it’s been ripped right from the screen, not to mention her hair. I’m proud of this Webby, I can sleep well at night knowing I’ve at least done her justice. Here’s Webby’s room:

I was definitely going for ‘ethereal’ when I designed this room, with a chill, relaxing vibe - what could be more relaxing than loads of fairy lights? I also made it a priority to give Webby plants to show that she is encouraging new life instead of crushing it like her brothers - the larger amount of windows and lights also are meant to suggest that she’s a kinder, more moral/good person.

If you like my recreations, they are all together on the Sims gallery, just search for the Lords in Black and Webby or type in my EA ID, sparklefishkatie (shameless self-promotion) because I’ve put a lot of stuff on there over the years. Now; these guys are quite old, you might have to scroll back to find them, and I can’t actually remember if I put their rooms on the gallery, if I didn’t please let me know if you want them because I’ll absolutely put them up. If you’ve read to the bottom of this post, you’re the best, thanks a lot and please download these characters if you play Sims 4! 💕

#team starkid #starkid #hatchetfield #hatchetverse #the hatchetfield series #hatchetblr #lords in black #the lords in black #webby hatchetfield #sims 4 #gaming #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 screenshots #the sims 4

[cellarspider]

14/?? Gnosis, and lack thereof

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We return to the movie that could’ve been a contender, Prometheus. In this episode, a two-year-old poisons a man.

I’m not alone in thinking David is the most well-realized character in this movie. Michael Fassbender was given the most space to act through expression and reaction to others and his environment, which helps create an android character that has much more inner life than his human castmates. He also gets what I’d call the Data bonus: android characters can more easily get away with screamingly clunky exposition or explicitly stating the meaning of a scene. You can give them absolute gibberish if you want to, and it sounds perfectly logical when they say it.

[Video description: A small selection of technobabble from Star Trek: The Next Generation, mostly featuring Data.]

David is also the easiest to be sympathetic to, because people keep being assholes to him.

Yes, David has received mysterious orders from a mysterious man who’s still in stasis. It’s Peter Weyland. It’s obviously Peter Weyland, this is why David has the dream-reading helmet thing that felt so out of place at the start of the movie. This is also why Guy Pierce, a 45-year-old, was hired to play an infinity-year-old man. Weyland was going to appear as his ideal self in one of these dream sequences, but it was cut from the movie. So instead, we just have Vickers demanding to know what “he” wants, and the answer is “Try harder”.

Peter Weyland, beginning a trend for the company bearing his name, has an obsession with this alien stuff. …This trend was actually begun by Charles Bishop Weyland in a completely different continuity that also featured ancient alien contact with Earth, but hey, details. This Weyland wants results, damn it, and David gets an excuse to kill one of the crew.

Although it’s not quite that simple. The movie indicates that David can’t go against orders from the company, especially from Weyland. He has to “try harder”, and he’s brought back one of those alien urns that apparently nobody cares to examine but him. 

It’s got a goth lava lamp in it.

While we don’t get much indication David knows why this stuff is dangerous to organic life, I’ll give the movie a very tiny pass: it’s implied that David has figured out how to read the Engineer’s cuneiform script. He decants a droplet of Menacing Black Goo onto his (Weyland-branded) fingertip, and sets off to find a test subject.

Thank god, he chooses Holloway.

I don’t like not liking characters. I don’t generally anticipate seeing someone’s comeuppance, but this movie gets me damn close to that feeling. In the movie’s partial defense, some of this was probably intended. Mainstream American fiction sets a high bar for what a bigot looks like, and Holloway’s been clearing that. I’m less certain the movie knows everyone’s behaving like a bigot, but we’ll get to that eventually. But Holloway? Definitely. 

This creates a fairly interesting scene. One that even reaches towards good. David has the means to kill Holloway. The audience knows this. And we get to watch when he makes the decision to commit to it, and why. And, blessedly, it actually ties into an intentional theme of this movie.

Holloway’s still drunk and miserable–he’d previously muttered that the alien structure on the planet was “just another tomb.”

I, speaking hyperbolically, would consider that grounds enough to off him. He’s an archaeologist who can be sent into a drinking binge by finding a thing made by dead people. An archaeologist. That in itself is such a ridiculous indicator of how unfit this character is for his role.

But no, he wanted to meet his maker, “To get answers.” Sure, lots of people have existential questions they feel are important to them. That is understandable. Even clueless assholes can wonder about that. But it takes an especially hubristic asshole to decide they’re the one worthy of asking someone who might have the answer. 

Did anybody notice they didn’t bring any diplomats or orators on this trip? They didn’t bring any cultural exchange gifts with them when they approached the alien structure? They weren’t treating the Engineers as people, just something to discover.

David, someone else they’re not treating like people, asks Holloway “Why do you think your people made me?”, and the answer he gets is “Because we could.” David is quietly but openly disappointed in that.

This is the whiplash of this movie. We have the biggest bunch of shambolic assholes klutzing around, waiting to get killed off by the plot, and then we have David expressing the horror of Valentinian gnosticism.

In brief, because even the wikipedia page says “The theology [...] is extremely complicated and difficult to follow”, the strain of Christian gnosticism expressed by the 2nd century theologian Valentinus believes that the world was created by an ignorant being. They believed there was a benevolent god out there which was/produced Jesus, but the “demiurge” (lit. “craftsman”) who created the world was not this deity. The demiurge was an imperfect, lesser being, that believed itself to be the supreme god of the universe. In Valentinianism, as with other gnostic schools, to be born into the world was to be trapped within a creation of a creature that was prone to fits of abusive behavior.

Gnostic christianity was, at the time, an attempt to square a number of contradictory ideas: the incredibly influential ideas of Plato on the formation of the universe, the growing theology of the new Christian movement, and the examples of divine wrath and jealousy in Jewish scripture, that were hard to square with what early Christians saw as a less violent deity they wanted to worship. There were probably also some anti-Jewish Egyptian myths thrown in as well, depicting their god as a donkey-headed incarnation of the malevolent deity Set. Some may recognize that particular slander from its deployment against early Christians, including our first-ever depiction of Jesus’ crucifixion: a rude bit of graffiti.

In our time, there’s only one remaining gnostic (non-christian) religion with direct continuity to the period, the Mandaeans. Christian gnosticism was deemed heretical, when one of the many different gospels circulating at the time was selected as orthodox in the 4th century, along with an attendant theology. But it remains a fertile ground for philosophers, fiction-writers, and every once in a while someone reinvents bits of it when they hit upon contradictions in christian thought.

The latter seems to be the case with Ridley Scott. He’s sometimes described as an atheist, but his actual statements on the matter show he’s either casually gnostic or a deist, very much influenced by christian doctrine: 

“If we looked at the whole thing practically speaking, the Big Bang occurred and then we go through this evolution of millions, billions of years where, by coincidence, all the right biological accidents came out the right way. To an extent, that doesn't make sense unless there was a controlling decider or mediator in all of that. So who was that? Or what was that? Are we one big grand experiment in the basic overall blink of the universe, or the galaxy? In which case, who is behind it?”

https://www.bbc.co.uk/films/callingtheshots/ridley_scott.shtml

Tangent: that question came right after he’s quoted as saying “I think there's no originality [in modern films]. I think everyone is stealing from everyone else and going back to the originals. I usually go in for 20 minutes and then get up and leave.” This interview was back in 2006. The next year he’d direct American Gangster (loosely based on a biography), then Body of Lies (Roger Ebert called it "a James Bond plot"), then Robin Hood (it’s Robin Hood), then Prometheus, the movie I only watched because it seemed to be in dialog with a film he directed in 1979. Buddy, if that was your problem, you were part of the problem.

But anyway. We have a director who had stated interest in a christian-influenced cosmogony: he seems to state a belief that we exist because we are supposed to exist, rather than being a random event. This is a movie where he does seem to be trying to do something with that. He is beginning with that premise, and using Alien as the shared language to express it. He doesn’t know why we exist, but he can imagine why we would make someone exist.

Placing that in amongst these characters is bleak to the point of puerility, frankly. Why would we create a being like us? Well, this one asshole doesn’t know.

David, at this point in Prometheus, has already determined that humans are fallible creators. Hell, he’s decided the Engineers were also failable. He, y’know, witnessed how gooey one of their corpses was. But he’s yet to decide on whether humans are just ignorant, trying and failing to be good–as per Valentinus–or if they’re actively malevolent.

The fact that David doesn’t poison Holloway’s drink until just before handing it over does neatly show that he was quietly given a chance to answer that question. Holloway continues to be a jackass and, when asked what he’d do to answer the existential question he wanted to pose to the Engineers, he says he’d do “anything and everything”.

The movie eventually treats Peter Weyland as especially deluded in his self-serving quest to get the Engineers to answer his more selfish questions, but I don’t think his ego was unique in this movie.

On our journey into the movie this time, Prometheus has attempted to grapple with subjects its script hasn’t earned. Next time, it incorporates imagery it hasn’t earned. It’s worse than this scene, but in a far more subtle way.

If you want a neat look on european and middle eastern mysticism from an academic standpoint, Esoterica is a pretty damn good channel, put together by a self-described “dialectical materialist in the tradition of Structural Marxism”. I’ll happily take recommendations on other academic sources aimed at the general audience.

https://youtu.be/7EwRD6SzXws

https://st-takla.org/Feastes-&-Special-Events/Coptic-Nativity-of-Jesus-Christ-Milad-El-Masih/Coptic-Jesus-Incarnation-Christmas-03-Incarnation-of-the-Word-Book.html 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Masbuta 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Drabsha 

https://www.deviantart.com/pretty--kittie/art/Prometheus-Engineer-407322241 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Archon_(Gnosticism) 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sethianism

⛬

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#Prometheus 2012 #Prometheus (2012) #I've been threatening to go on a ramble about gnostic philosophy since the start of this movie #it's finally happened #I'm not a scholar of this stuff #but neither is Ridley Scott

[anamelessfool]

Bored around the Ministry HQ (Young Copia HC)

Copia is usually very good at finding ways to entertain himself. He currently has a little colony of five rats, which is a big responsibility and a good way for him to bond with the other three or four children his age. He spends a lot of time making little houses and obstacle courses for them out of paper and toilet paper tubes. He is surprisingly responsible for a 10 year old. He keeps his room tidy and finds organizing his desk drawers to be a soothing activity. But sometimes he does get a little restless. So he puts his pets back in their cage and does a wander. Before he leaves his room he touches the doorknob three times: once to protect his rats. Twice for bravery. And the third time for luck. After his little ritual he is good to go.

There are rules about who to run into and what to expect. Copia thinks rules are important especially his own.

Primo

Primo is a very engaging, friendly conversationalist. Copia often goes to him for advice. Primo will answer any dumb question with kindness and no judgement. But you have to be working. If Primo's chopping wood, Copia has to stack it in the woodshed. If he's off for a jog Copia has to be out jogging with him. Primo will listen to any concern at all as long as you're pulling hornworms off the tomato plants while you do it. Copia thinks that Primo's mind only works when he's doing something with his hands.

Secondo

Never, ever, ever mentions his boredom to Secondo. He will find something for Copia to do. There's always Latin to study. There's always piano scales to practice. Copia loves playing piano but Secondo is ruthless about technique and form. If one wanders into the common room and Secondo is there at the piano, back away slowly unless one wants an impromptu extra hour of practicing scales.

Sister Rebecca

Doubly so for the Ministry's schoolmarm and Secondo's mother. Avoid her at all costs. Where do you think Secondo gets it from?

Terzo

Copia has been coached to never seek out Terzo. One, his third adoptive brother prefers solitude and is usually holed up in his cell developing photos or repairing something. There is also a Secret Second Reason to never seek out Terzo but Primo is pretty vague about it. Copia is often curious about why someone who likes solitude also has lots of friends. And Terzo inexplicably has many, many, many friends. Sometimes new ones each week.

Sister

No. Absolutely not. Not ever. Also he would need to make an appointment first.

Nihil

Surprisingly not a terrible experience but Copia is locked in for an hour or two before attempting to squirm away. Nihil is always up for a visit. He will give anyone some snacks and drinks, although they are the snacks he likes. He will talk Copia's ear off but only about what he wants to talk about. Nihil's going to have a stream of consciousness conversation with himself about Peter Fripp or tree roots or something. At least Copia can sit in a giant nest of pillows and watch the soothing undulation and warm glow of Nihil's lava lamp collection.

My Fic List

#i figured since you liked the weird random HC i posted yesterday #ghost fandom #the band ghost #ao3 author #ghost scenes from the void #ghost band fic #cardinal copia #young copia #ghost band headcanons #papa emeritus i #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus iii #papa nihil

[ohraicodoll]

Moments in Domesticity HC

Joel Miller x Feral Reader x Ellie The Last of Us (Show/Game) Feral Reader Masterlist Anon Requests: --“I'm loving all the domestic joel x red x Ellie content. So can we get an insight into how red and joel deal with ellies mood swings? I feel like after settling into Jackson, she will ease into teenage normalcy. I can see red trying to be helpful but just ends up in sleeping in the stables 💀💀💀“  --“Have you thought of red and joel and ellie in jackson 5 years later? like just domestic stuff. they’re all integrated and jackson has been their home for awhile...” --“I NEED to know how Joel would feel/act if red actually left them to go back to the wild, maybe in a jealous fit or something else. I’m begging u” Here’s a long list of different moments! I’ll be touching on stuff that happens after the first couple of years in a different fic, but these touch on stuff that don’t need full fics!

Despite Joel’s concerns, Ellie does make friends though it takes a while. The older kids are only required to go to a few classes a day and then have various jobs they’re suppose to do and she does bond with some of the other teens who think she’s cool. She’s different and when she tells them she’s killed Clickers and survived a Bloater, it cements her as a bad ass amongst them.

Ellie is quiet those first few weeks. They don’t push it but it’s the start of Red leaving little trinkets for her. A lava lamp she found, posters and books and sketch supplies. 

Red knows that Ellie is suspicious of the story Joel told her. Sometimes when the girl pokes, tentatively asks her about the hospital, she glosses over it. Says that she had been knocked out and didn’t come to until the “raiders” were attacking and she helped Joel fight their way out. They just had to get Ellie out. The truth is in there, under the blurry faux details, and it makes it easier to lie. 

There will be a day where she knows Ellie will push for the truth and all she can do is prepare for it. 

Defending Red helps draw Ellie out of her shell. That protective streak over both of them. More than trinkets and Joel trying to use board games and small tokens of the past, Ellie’s need to feel useful and protective is what does the trick. 

Spending time in Jackson with the animals and food and all the new helps as well.

Jesse is older and has taken more of a leadership position over the teens and it helps that when he’s on patrol and Joel is in the group, the older man gives him pointers. Joel notices sometimes how he stares at Ellie and keeps an eye on the boy.

He ribs Ellie about it over the next year or so until it’s broken to him that it’s not boys his kid is into, but girls. Which makes him suspicious of every teenage girl that was ever over in his house.

Joel finds his footing easier than them both. He becomes a valuable member of the patrols and goes back to helping with construction, the skills coming back easily. Though sometimes it’s hard watching Tommy have the life he thought he would have. Married with a baby on the way. His little brother is now the one in charge though he still can’t measure the 2x4′s worth shit and sometimes is dumb as bricks. It hurts but he’s proud of him.

It helps when he comes back home and Ellie is complaining about dumb homework at the table and Red is sitting on the countertop in the kitchen, trying to read the faded instructions on the pasta box. He’s needed in other ways.

There are mornings where Joel and Red get to sleep in. Those are usually the mornings where she is woken up by the slight push of the door opening and then a heavy pouncing on top of her before getting covered in slobber. Joel grunts and curses, covering his face with the comforter and Red tries to duck away from dog breath as Ellie cusses out, “Oh shit, Bowie no! Shit shit, sorry!”

“Ellie, what the hell did we say about bringing the dogs in?” He’s not as angry as he wants it to be, just annoyed as the heavy 80lb dog jumps around on the bed then flops down in between them like a second child. Bowie grins, trying to lick Joel, leash still attached.

“I was just walking him and forgot something in my room and needed to come inside real quick to get it but then he looked like he wanted some water and-”

Red only chuckles and whistles before signaling the dog off the bed, Bowie doing so immediately.

Waking up to dog kisses isn’t the worst. It happens more times than they can count, especially when Ellie is walking the puppies.

Swimming lessons start once the weather warms up. Tommy joins them to show where their usual swimming spot is. Him and Red sit a little higher up on a ridge edge and watch as Joel tries to show Ellie how to move her arms and feet. She clings to him like a toddler even though the water isn’t that deep and sometimes he has to support her stomach to keep her afloat while she gets it.

Tommy makes jokes from above at Joel’s expense, grinning at the comfort of hanging out with his brother and his kid again. That is until Red shoves him off the ridge and he hits the water face first.

If he still wasn’t slightly terrified of her, he’d splash her back.

There are progressive steps forward and some steps back. Joel and Ellie argue, both pushing and testing their boundaries with each other. Red and Joel fight, one not use to people caring about her and the other sometimes too protective. Ellie and Red fight, one desperately clinging to the other in fear of being left and the other worried the closeness will only hurt her. No one knows how to properly handle their emotions. 

They always make up. A tentative offer to take Ellie out to practice shooting the rifle. Joel trailing his fingers through Red’s loose hair, kissing the crown of her head softly. A book of pressed flowers given on the porch, the book Red has been keeping in her bag for years. The first pages are her journal from the beginning of the Outbreak before it stops. All peace offerings. 

Joel is a helicopter parent. When Ellie begins group patrols, he knows exactly who is leading the group and interrogates them after to make sure nothing went wrong and she is doing what she’s supposed to. He knows when she starts hanging out with new friends, like Jesse and Dina and Cat. Ellie is starting to go full-teenager so he tries not to let her know he’s doing it. 

Red catches Ellie making out with her first girlfriend Mia in her room. She doesn’t know what to do, only freezes and backs away slowly then walks back down the stairs. She doesn’t tell Joel.

When Ellie starts going over to friends houses, staying over often or going to hangouts, they relish in having their own space for the first time in a long while. Joel has every intention of fucking Red against every surface and wall, but only manages the couch before someone knocks on the front door. Tommy thinks Joel is going to shoot him for even asking if he can do a night patrol. Red may well murder him if Joel doesn’t.

Joel knows he has to take his time with Red, but patience isn’t a strong suit of his. He missteps a lot, tripping on invisible landmines. Her parents. Her sister. Harry. Those years after the Outbreak but before he met her. She freezes up sometimes and he knows the landmine has gone up in his face.

But she sometimes she drops fragments. Mentions that her father died in the initial chaos though there is nothing sad in her voice. Her mother’s is always mentioned in disdain. That things between her and Harry had been complicated in the year or so before the Outbreak. That things were tense with her family. The way she clams up when asked if she was with a group is it’s own hint. He doesn’t push, can only apologize and soothe the shrapnel damage of his mistake. 

There are days when Ellie is just in a mood. She’s snappy, easily irritable, gets sent home early from work duty for behavior (which in turn means Joel gets after her) leading to her being a ball of teenage rage at everyone. Red stays in the kennels those days because it’s easier dealing with a group of dogs than an angry teenager. Jamie, the head vet she sometimes works with, says it’s all part of raising a teenager.

They skip the monthly Jackson gatherings often as their time in town stretches on, though Tommy does bug them to go and actually be a part of the community. Red isn’t keen, especially after her dress experience with Maria, but Joel makes sure to stay at her side every time after. He doesn’t admit that he doesn’t mind going if only because he gets to stand with her, his arms around her waist and swaying slightly to the music, and making sure every man in town knows she’s his.

He doesn’t remember how the conversation leads to Red at the construction site. They’re working and the mention of her name comes up then her last name and instinctively, without thinking, Joel mentions it’s Miller. He can see Tommy’s head whip towards him, but neither of them say anything. 

When Joel finally fixes the guitar, he plays for them. His heart is in his throat but he tries to play it off as casually as he can. Ellie’s been in a mood and thank god, he sees her loosen up afterwards. He promises to start teaching her and once a week they have guitar lessons on the porch. Those are Red’s favorite nights.

They’re having family dinner at Tommy’s one evening when Maria asks teasingly if she needs to get Red some birth control. She freezes and it’s like she’s a trapped animal, breath shaky and panic in her eyes, before biting out a simple, “No.” It’s a little awkward and they try to play it off, moving on. That night he can see the nail gouges in her thighs from her own hands. Joel doesn’t know the full story, but knows her inability to have kids isn’t a natural occurrence. He’s seen the ugly scar on her lower abdomen enough times. 

Outbreak day is a bad day for everyone. The streets are quiet, everyone’s faces drawn. The town hosts a yearly memorial to honor the day and world they lost, but they don’t go. It’s the first year Joel doesn’t drink himself dumb if only because he doesn’t want to freak Ellie out. The teenager doesn’t have a tie to the day, being born long after. But she knows about Sarah and knows both her parental figures faced something horrific. So she does what any kid does and tries to lighten the mood. They play every board game in the house and Ellie picks the best puns and gently asks what Sarah’s favorite things were. It helps a little.

Some nights they get more bits of the lighter Red. They play the record player constantly but some days, the days when maybe one of them finds a new couple of vinyls, they’ll have a night where they each take turns playing their favorite. Red and Joel will drink a bit (and maybe let Ellie have some) and the teenager will grab Red’s hands and force her to dance with her. Joel soaks in the sound of their laughter and it’s like Red is so many years younger. He takes turns with each other them, spinning Ellie around and teaching her to two-step and dancing with his partner to the slower songs. He loves her through rage and violence, but he is at her mercy when she lets him have the fragile bits of herself underneath it all.

Once upon a time, giving someone that kind of control over him would have terrified him but he hands himself over willingly to her now .

Ellie’s first birthday in Jackson is small but they’re still getting use to things. No one knows the exact day she was born, but she knows the day that was on her papers in FEDRA school so they go with that. Joel gets food from the Food Hall and Red tries very very hard to follow a brownie recipe from one of the ladies in the shop. Joel plays her something on the guitar and, in true to them fashion, her gifts are a new revolver, another pun book (though unfortunately not by Wil Livingston) and the news that Brownie the puppy is hers to keep in the kennels.

Red sings for them for the first time that night.

Joel makes plans for a bigger birthday next year.

Danger still exists. It never goes away and Joel wonders if he doesn’t want it to, really. There’s still a thrill when his brother grabs them both to deal with raiders. Seeing that sharpness in Red come alive and the lack of hesitation as she pulls the trigger or draws her bow. The baring of her teeth when she stabs her knife.

He’s seen her tear through a whole group to save him during a patrol. Seen her rip out a man’s throat with her teeth to get to him when they had him trapped. Joel wonders at the broken part of him that enjoys it, seeing her covered in blood and completely feral and knowing it was all for him. 

Every time after, clean or tinged red, he loses himself and fucks her so hard his name is a chorus from her lips and there are gouges down his back from her nails. They were still monsters deep down but it didn’t feel like such an awful thing anymore.

It’s roughly a year and a half later when Ellie comes home with a large bandage on arm. Red is the one to see it first and after being assured she wasn’t injured, the outline of a large tattoo is unveiled, covering the bite there. 

She gets it, gets the fear of Ellie having to hide her arm because they’re afraid someone will shoot their kid. But seeing the tattoo churns something in her gut because it means Ellie’s letting go of that part of her identity as “the immune girl”. And while it should mean something good, that she was moving on, she knows hidden rage when she sees it and it’s deep in the teenage girl. It’s less a letting go and more the identity being ripped away from her.

It takes a bit to calm Joel down. He knows it was Ellie’s friend Cat that did the tattoo and the dad part of him rears up, telling her he doesn’t like her hanging out with that girl. It’s fear, they all know it, because the tattoo also means she showed Cat her arm. 

It’s a rough week. Ellie moves into the converted garage behind the house. 

Red feels unequipped to handle Joel’s fear and Ellie’s rage and all she can do is be there for both. She helps Ellie to decorate the garage, the same as when they first moved into the house, silently there at her side. At night, she prods and pushes Joel until he takes his emotions out on her with bruising fingers and rough kisses. Violence and sex are a comfort she knows well.

Joel and Ellie make up in their own awkward tentative way. Reminders about guitar lessons and dinner plans, requests to help fix the door and some of the walls in the garage. Red wonders if raising a teenager is like this for everyone.

Red goes missing for two days. Both of them panic and raise hell, searching everywhere for her. Ellie’s never seen Joel so out of control. He interrogates every patrolman at the gate roughly and it takes Tommy intervening to keep him from beating the shit out of a few. 

She checked out a horse and left, her bag missing from the first floor room. Ellie feels a knot in her throat and her mind plays on repeat “everyone always leaves” but Joel is pushing her bag into her hands and they off to the stables. Tommy and Maria don’t try to stop them. Red’s already been gone a whole day.

They search for her beyond the walls, calling out for her and checking their usual spots. The worst comes to mind of her getting hurt, getting taken by raiders, getting bit by infected. Because in Joel’s mind, Red would never willingly up and leave without a word. He can’t let that possibility sink in. Even if she did, he’d find her and drag her back to him.

They find her that evening. 

Her eyes are puffy and red and there are scratches all over her arms and hands. They look self-inflicted. She looks as wild as the first day they met her, huddled at the base of a large tree and hair all over the place. Joel approaches her cautiously, like he knows to when she’s more animal than woman, but it’s Ellie that goes straight up to her and hugs her around her waist without hesitating. Because she knows why. 

The book of pressed flowers Red had given her had journal entries that stopped right before the flowers began. The last entry had a date and the words “me, Harry, and Annie are going on a run tomorrow” in it and Ellie knows. 

Like a wounded animal, Red tried to hide her pain. The nightmares and the screams and the sounds in her head became too much and she had to get away. Sometimes all she could hear was her sister’s screams. But they dim in Ellie’s embrace and she lets herself come to the surface enough to hug her back and then lean into Joel when he joins them, kissing her head and holding them tightly. 

They'd always find her and protect her when she needed to shatter.

_________________________________________ Taglist: @alouise20 @faceache111​ @hawsx3 @taxidriversainz @iluvbunnyhops @mrfitzdarcyslover @emlovesya  @agent007knight @spaacerabbit @namgification @wonwoosthetic  @wxnderingthoughts @sagggy @escaping-reality8 @badwolf00593​ @themothersmercy @badwolf00593 @mxtokko @happinessinthebeing​ @taranicristeard  @aroacefanenby @barbellpedro  @maviee​ @sgt-morgan

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x oc #joel miller x feral reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller imagine #tlou fandom #the last of us fanfic #tlou ellie #series: feral #feral reader #anon asks #asks #raicodoll writes #this was my way of catching up on requests #I still have a bunch but some are full fics and some are gonna be drabbles

[frogychu]

Antirrhinum Ch. 2

ellie x gn!reader

ch. 2 of 4

other parts: 1 / 3 / 4

words: 2.2k

Hanahaki (花吐き病) ; disease affecting the lungs, proven to be caused by keeping one's true feelings hidden for too long Or Where you and Ellie have been friends for years until she finally slips up, coughing up petals in front of you.

a/n: really putting the slow in slow burn for this one guys and ofc the work will always be cross posted on AO3 here!

Snowflakes swirl around you as you wait for the door to open. The awkwardness of waiting around is starting to make you regret coming to Ellie’s garage in the first place.

It's taking an abnormally long time; did she know it was you? Should you knock again?

Plus its fucking freezing. Maybe this was a mistake.

The lights aren't even on inside, maybe she should be left to sleep if she's that sick.

Ah. Should've brought something for her.

Just as you're overthinking about soup, the lights turn on inside, and the door opens just a crack.

“Joel I told you, i'll be fine, it's just-”

You decide to cut her off before you gain any more knowledge you’re not supposed to. “Uh it's not Joel.”

She stops talking and the door swings open, revealing her dishevelled figure.

You won't lie, she looks absolutely terrible. She has horrible eye bags, seemed to have slept in yesterday's patrol clothes, and is much paler than usual. You're not used to seeing her in such a poor state, and it is quite the sight.

It's making you almost feel bad for bothering her.

She looks at you sheepishly, “Oh, hi.”

Not wanting to make her feel any worse than she already does, you decide to cut to the chase. "Jesse told me you're sick?"

"Oh, uh, not really. I'm fine-"

You swear you're starting to turn blue as you're talking out here, you even start shivering. Ellie cuts herself off as she very obviously takes notice.

"Oh shit, did you want to come inside maybe?" She insists.

"Are you sure? I don't want to intrude, I just wanted to check on you."

She pauses for a long while. Her expression saddens as she closes her eyes and lets out a shaky breath.

"Please."

Oh.

You waste no time grabbing the door handle and letting yourself in, closing it behind you. She's being oddly vulnerable with you, you wouldn't dare give her a hard time now.

It's awkward for a while. She motions at you to sit on the couch, so you do, after taking off your coat. You're watching her pace around slowly like she doesn't know what to do with you.

You're looking around the room, unsure of what to say either. Her room is cute, messy but cozy, it's dimly lit by her fairy lights and lava lamp, just enough to illuminate all of the art she put up above her desk.

One of the drawings catches your attention; it's a portrait of you.

When did she-

She finally spoke up, breaking your train of thought, “Uh hey, do you smoke?”

“Well, yeah, but are you sure we should be doing this while you're sick?”

“I'll be fine.” She answers abruptly, as she walks over to her desk and puts in a random CD into her CD player. ‘Black Hole Sun’ by Soundgarden starts playing quietly in the background.

She quickly walks over to her bed and grabs a small tin from her nightstand, sitting beside you and handing you the tin. You open it and take out a pre-roll, holding it to your mouth and searching for a lighter.

Ellie reaches into her back pocket, “Here.” She reaches over and lights it for you and you can't help but feel your heart race a mile a minute at the closeness.

The smoke invades your lungs as you breathe in, holding it before exhaling and handing the blunt over to Ellie. “You sure we should be doing this indoors?”

She shrugs, “If you want to go outside, be my guest.”

You take the blunt out of her hands as she passes it back to you, “I value my limbs thank you.”

She chuckles in response and you decide to speak up again, “So why did you skip out on patrol then miss ‘not sick’?”

“Didn't feel like going?” She lies.

You're skeptical. “Right…”

“Look, I'll tell you later.”

“You mean you'll tell me when you're high?”

“Yup.” She nods her head.

You laugh at her honesty, “Fair enough.”

Selfishly, you're a little glad she's in a poor state. It's letting the two of you break the ice that accumulated over the years, and you're definitely enjoying this side of her better. Both of you smoke in silence for a while, but there's undoubtedly less tension now, it's comfortable.

That is until she decides to talk again. “We should watch something.”

“Like, a movie?”

“Yeah. I was thinking something like an action movie…” she trails off.

You squint your eyes at her, “You want to watch Curtis And Viper don't you.”

She frowns, “How did you know?”

“It's like, the one thing I know about you, I literally can't forget.” You chuckle.

“Well maybe if we didn't fight all the time, you would know me better.”

Woah?

“I'm sorry, are you blaming me for this? I never meant for things to be this way.”

She gets up in a huff, “If you didn't then why didn't you try to change?”

It's escalating all too quickly, now you're standing too, blunt put out and long forgotten. “This goes both ways you know!”

“Yeah, we're both to blame for this shit friendship!”

You can see the regret in her face as soon as the words come out of her mouth.

“I'm so sorry I- I didn't mean to-”

Your eyes get welled with tears, “You think our friendship is shit? Do you even like me? What am I to you?!”

“You're my best friend I-”

“Don't. Just stop.”, you grab your coat, “This was a mistake.”

And just like that, you're storming out the door, with hot and angry tears streaming down your face as you walk back to your house. As soon as you get in the house, you close it behind you and slump to the floor. It's pathetic, but you can't help it.

You knew the two of you would've had to have a talk sooner or later, you just didn't expect it all to blow up in your face. You've never fought with her this badly, you're devastated. You lay on the floor for a while, knees to your chest and only the sounds of the strong wind in the crack of the door keep you company.

Numb is the only word you can use for yourself as you finally get up and make your way up your stairs. Not even bothering to get undressed, you slump into bed early in the morning. Nothing could help process your emotions better than simply not thinking about them at all.

-

You wake up abruptly to the sound of banging at your door. By the time you were awoken by the knocking, it was dark out. You slept through the whole day.

Great.

Nevertheless, as much as you were - somehow - still exhausted, you ran down the stairs to tend to the sleep-disturbing culprit.

The knocking is still loud and persistent. “I'm coming!” you yelled, a little frustrated at this person's determination. You opened the door wide.

It’s Ellie. Ellie who has red eyes and a tear stained face. She's holding something.

Food?

It looks so fucking good, you dont even know what it is but you’re ready to forgive her just with this. You hadn't eaten all day.

She finally gains the courage to speak after letting you stare at her, “I'm sorry. Let's not fight anymore. I shouldn't have said any of that to you it was…stupid”

You want to kiss her, pull her into a tight embrace, hold her face and tell her everything is going to be ok. But you don't, for now.

Baby steps.

“I'm sorry too. I don't want us to be weird. Can we just be friends again? I just…I just want you to like me.” You answer honestly.

She gives you a soft smile of relief, “I do like you, even if I give you a hard time.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You can't help but blush at the mention of her liking you, even if you know it's just as a friend. Still, you can't stop wondering what it would be like for her to confess to you like this.

Ellie speaks up again, before your daydreaming gets out of hand, “So, uh, did you want some or…” she motions to the dinner she had brought you.

“Please! Oh my god, I haven't eaten all day, you are a saint.” You thank her as you snatch the plate out of her hands and drag her inside.

She stumbles a little as you're dragging her by her arm. “Woah, hey, you don't even know if it's good or not!”

You stop and turn to look at her, “I literally could not care less right now.”

“Ok but i'm warning you, you've never had my cooking so-”

“Wait, you made this?” You cut her off.

She scratches her neck as she gets red in the face, “Oh, uh, yeah I did.”

Your heart feels warm and your stomach is full of butterflies. You can't help but smile softly at her as your face gets equally as crimson, “Thank you.”

“Nothing to it.” She answers nonchalantly.

You sit down at your dining table, not even bothering to heat up the food. It's a type of stirfry thing. Ellie sits beside you, looking at you nervously as you take a bite. Oddly enough, it's delicious. You didn't strike her as being much of a cook but you have to admit it's more than edible.

“Is it tolerable?” she asks.

You answer her between mouthfuls, “Are you shitting me? This is the best meal I've had probably ever.”

She laughs at your exaggerations. “Shut up, you're just saying that.”

“It's true, I swear!”

She shakes her head in response instead of saying anything back. You smile happily and keep eating your food. Looking out of your window as you ate, you noticed that the bad weather had finally stopped. You comment on it, trying to make conversation, “It's finally nice out.”

“Aw man,” she chuckles, “I can't believe we're talking about the weather, but you're right.” She pauses before talking again, “We should go do something.”

You answer her as you're shoveling the last of your food in your mouth, “Like what?”

“You'll see.” She answers you ominously.

“Okay, creepy.”

She questions you, “You trust me?”

You soften your expression, trying to be more sincere, “Of course I do.”

“Good, come outside with me.” She orders you, getting up from her seat and grabbing your coat. Taken aback by her sudden change in tone, you do as she says without answering her, or putting your dishes away.

She holds your jacket open for you and you slide your arms in. It's endearing, you get all warm and fuzzy on the inside. You open the door and let her go out before you, and close it.

You both walk out into the street, and she smacks your arm, pointing upwards to the sky. It’s completely clear; you can't help but feel so small looking up at all of the bright lights in the sky. Although, your view is slightly obstructed by the street lights.

“Wait Ellie, I have an idea.” You tell her as you try to grab her attention.

She looks down at you, “What's up?”

“Follow me.” You insist, as you already started making your way to your destination.

You bring her to the back of your house, where a ladder to your roof is propped up against the siding.

“It might be a little more unsafe because of the snow and stuff.” You warn her.

She shrugs, “It’ll probably be fine.”

Next thing you knew she was making her way up, and you soon followed after she made it. You both lay down on the snowy roof and look at the stars quietly, until she started naming and pointing out different stars and constellations.

“That big bright one over there, that's a whole galaxy, Andromeda.” She points to a different spot. “And there beside it, Cassiopea, and Orion's belt over there.”

You listen to her rave about space for a good while, she's cute when she rants like this. “Didn't strike you as that big of a space nerd.”

“Is knowing more about me that terrible?”

“No.” You answer immediately.. “I like being around you, remember?”

She shrugs, “Trying to.”

You sit up and turn to face her, “Ellie, I'm sorry for how things have been between us for however long we've known each other. Let's be friends like normal people are friends, who know each other's favourite colours, who let each other know when something is wrong. I'm sick of this.”

Ellie immediately gets up, “I'm sorry too. And I'd like that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She smiles at you.

Having at least the smallest amount of progress puts a smile on your face, but you knew there was a lot more to be done if you wanted to get closer to her. “So, what is your favourite colour?”

She laughs, “Oh man, are we really doing this?”

“Absolutely we are.” You answer, as you lay back down in the snow to look up at the night sky.

This was about to be a long night.

a/n: SOO what r we thinking thoughts.. prayers? n e ways hope u all liked it !

tags: @champagnelovers101 @luvagirl222 @florenceisacoolname @cherriesnwatermelons @sufloerfs

#ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou #ellie williams x y/n #tlou x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie the last of us

[class-1b-bull]

Class 1-b as random things me and my friends have said to eachother!

I tried to get everyone multiple times but some characters got more than others </3

There is a lot of cussing, name calling and mentions of virginity but dats about it. Plus a brief mention of drug dealing.

:] :] :]

Manga- BRO! IS THIS THE BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA ULTRA ANYLISIS BOOK THAT LETS YOU KNOW MORE ABOUT THE CHARACTERS, THEIR QUIRKS, AND THEIR RELATIONS WITH OTHER CHARACTERS FROM THE SAME SERIES?! PUBLISHED BY HORIKOSHI, THE AUTHOR OF BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA, HIMSELF?!?!

Bondo- uh yea?

Manga- i knew you were cringe but a virgin? Do better man.

:] :] :]

Sen- WHERE THE FUCK IS CTRL+Z?!?!?

Awase- ctrl z dosent work on tattoos actually..

:] :] :]

Kuroiro - the atoms will align because im hot like that. *runs straight into a wall*

:] :] :]

Kamakiri - the riddle isnt that fucking hard your just dumb as shit.

Kosei - can I give them a hint?

Kamakiri - no, fuck you.

Awase - you had to high expectations for me and tokage when making this riddle.

Kamakiri - I litterally looked up riddles for kids.

Tokage - well im obviously not a kid so that probably why I cant figure it out..

Kosei - can I pleasssseeeeeee give them a hint.

Kamakiri - fine whatever.

Kosei - ASS!!

Kamakiri - you know what? Actually... shut the fuck up!

Kosei - its a good hint!

Kamakiri - no the fuck its not.

Rin - no actually thats a great hint. Want me to demonstrate?

Awase - what is there to demonstrate???

*litterally 3 1/2 hours later*

Tokage - WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK DOES ASS HAVE TO DO WITH THE MOON?!?!??!

AWASE - FUCKING MOONING!!!!!

:] :] :]

Kendo - just letting you know, your a great friend. And I really care about you.

Kodai - being nice to me wont change the fact that your ass at mario cart.

:] :] :]

Shiozaki - *running up to kendo full sprint* hey um- quick question, could jesus do a kick flip? SPECIFICALLY with the kids hello kitty skatebord that crack dealer tried to sell us...

:] :] :]

Shishida - I dont like gossip but I thought I should let you know that monoma thinks your a drug dealer...

Kosei - why? Is he a cop?

Shishida - no but-

Kosei - is he buyin?

:] :] :]

Shoda - *crying in a voice message to the class b group chat* I just got into a car wreak and the cop had to pull me out of my carrr *loud as sniff* while fucking doja cat was talking about sucking dick... and it was really embarrassing. Oh! And I broke my leg I guess but whatever.

:] :] :]

Pony - Want my autograph? Too fuckin bad bitch! Im Beyonce type famous now I dont have TIME for your annoying ass.

Kodai - what happened?

Komori - she got 15 likes on a tumblr post.

:] :] :]

Tetsutetsu - MEN CAN LACTATE?!?!?!

Kosei - *loudly starts playing carless whisper in the distance*

:] :] :]

Kamakiri - shut the fuck up I only came over to your house to watch madoka magica and pet your cat now where the fuck is kitty kitty bang bang?!

:] :] :]

Honenuki - hand.

...

Honenuki - HAND!

Kuroiro - TAKE ME TO DINNER FIRST?! I aint ready for that kind of commitment man.

Honenuki - if you dont let me finish painting you nails I am going to kill your cat.

:] :] :]

Bondo - *crying while eating pretzels* he really did crank that soulja boy...

:] :] :]

Monoma - statistics show that I am better than you at litterally everything so riddle me this? If I am so fucking awesome why do I cry myself to sleep every night?!

:] :] :]

Reiko - that toddler is so fucking metal..

Like get it bitch. Tell your mom to fuck off for putting you in time out. Girlboss shit.

:] :] :]

Rin - that kid is litterally me.

Kosei - *earth shattering scream and falls off ceiling*

:] :] :]

Shiozaki - so is everyone that does crack jesus or just your mom?

:] :] :]

Shoda - thats a nice fucking rock...

Kodai - please dont fuck the rock...

:] :] :]

Awase - WTF WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEYRE NOT REAL?!

Rin - awase why would sen have a LIVE jellyfish inside of a lava lamp...

Awase - he would if he wasent a beta cuck.

:] :] :]

Pony - if I give you $20 can you draw the dude from highschool musical pregnant? Its for my cousins birthday.

Manga - first of all what the actual fuc-

:] :] :]

Shiozaki - believe it or not. But being a man. Ok? And sucking another mans dick. BEFORE MARRIAGE. Hear me out on this one... Is slightly againt the great lord above.

Kodai - jesus?

Reiko - no, ace ventura: pet detective.

...

Reiko - specifically after he climbed out of the rinos ass, naked.

:] :] :]

Sen - bro what even is this? Its low key ugly as fuck.

Rin - thats litterally me...

Sen - daymn *sticks photo in pants* ANYWAYS-

:] :] :]

Shishida - I get everyone is trying to stay calm but twerking to the fire alarm wont stop the fire!

:] :] :]

Rin - cute dogs!

Kosei - *lifting his foot* thanks I moisturize~

:] :] :]

Pony - i knew something was wrong with you when you laughed at my joke but not in the 'I watched mean girls' type of way.

:] :] :]

Komori - *walking around the house frantically*

Reiko - we would be out the door already if you didnt kiss all of your plants goodbye..

:] :] :]

Awase - I couldn't even hear that because me and kosei were talking about how hot she was.

:] :] :]

*Rin buddled up in like 20 blankets in front of a fire place*

Kosei - hot girl shit. *dives into the pile and face plants right into his balls.*

:] :] :]

Manga - can I eat your knees tall man?

Bondo - no thanks.

Manga - what if I asked in a uwu voice?

Bondo - still no.

Manga - daymn... alpha male type shit.

:] :] :]

Rin - you realize i am a dude right?

Awase - guys can have long hair?

Sen - of course they can have long hair dipshit.

Kosei - who cares if rin used to be a girl?! Hes a guy now and thats all that matters!

Rin - no I was always a guy...

Kosei - its ok man :D ill always be your friend <3

#bnha headcannons #bnha headcanons #class 1b #mha headcanons #awase yousetsu #kosei tsuburaba #mha hiryu rin #sen kaibara #rin hiryu #shihai kuroiro #manga fukidashi #monoma headcanons #mha class 1b #bnha x reader #ibara shiozaki #jurota shishida #nirengeki shoda #togaru kamakiri #yui kodai #kinoko komori #neitomonoma #juzo honenuki #itsuka kendou #tetsutetsu tetsutetsu

[n3onstarss]

Headcanons; How the Rottmnt boys deal with a reader with depression and muscle pain

Relationship; Rottmnt boys x reader

romantic or platonic?; either!

reader type; reader with depression, possible bipolar and constant muscle pains (projecting again)

Raph

Definitely tries his best to help

will nab you some Tylenol if it's bad, or mother hen you till you do something to relieve the pain and get yourself moving (eating, hydration, shower, etc.)

doesn't take shit during your mood swings, if you tell at him he'll yell right back. he knows what he's doing, probably

will let you wrestle or train with him during high energy episodes to blow off steam

on the other hand, will cuddle and comfort you during depressive episodes

Will gladly let you vent or talk shit with him

he encourages you to repair whatever is messing with you, be it a relationship or an activity or just yourself

love language is acts of service

Donnie

He tries his best but it may not work at certain points

He also struggles with taking care of himself, so it's kinda a symbiotic relationship with y'all

you remind him to eat or moisturize his shell or even sleep and he'll remind you to drink water and brush your teeth and wake you up if you sleep too much

Will gladly let you camp out in his room or lab and just parallel play while he works

when you're high energy he either has you come help with moving heavy projects or helps you find an outlet for it (or just straight up banishes you to hang out with Splinter, it depends)

Will reluctantly but happily split his hoard of Tylenol and ibuprofen (that battle shell HAS to hurt)

Gets a lil territorial over his giant heated lamp, but after about a week he didn't mind anymore and would just flop down back to back for together alone time (Raph got to name it because he tried to explain it to Mikey after you both passed out one time)

love language is quality time

Leo

Eugh boy. he tries so hard but he doesn't notice that sometimes you need space and copic mechanisms aren't universal

will cling to you all the time during depressive episodes if you let him, and will gladly watch movies with you to keep you both busy

hyper episodes are his specialty though! blue boy is always down for chaos and will gladly portal you both to, like, the middle of Disney world if you're both stupid enough

insists that cold showers are better for muscle pain than lava showers, gets bit.

doesn't mind parallel play, but something in him eggs him to be constantly talking and expecting a response (that man is not neurotypical) so he usually just rambles about how everything will get better and little affirmations till you return them or ask him to stop

Will share his heated blanket, unless it's winter, then it's his unless you bribe him with a turtle pile

does his best to remind you to take care of yourself, but is also forgetful and so it's just chaos

love language is words of affirmation

Mikey

Will try to doctor feelings you and let you know you have someone to talk to

when it gets especially bad he organizes a movie binge and turtle pile with all the siblings (which includes April, Cass, CJ and Sunita!) and heated lamps until everyone feels better than before

Very much avoids babying you. he grew up with it, knows it's not nearly as fun as people make it out to be

will leave little sticky notes about very important things, but doesn't tend to be overbearing

will ask you to help him cook during any mood because it's calming and not too stressful

Definitely enjoys parallel play or cuddling, as long as you're cool with it! Will walk over and just cuddle you while you're sitting on the counter while he cooks (arms around your waist, head on your stomach)

Steals Tylenol from Dee for ya (aka asks for some) and encourages you to steal Leo's shampoo for shits n giggles

love language is physical touch

#tmnt x reader #donatello x reader #donnie x reader #leonardo x reader #leo x reader #raphael x reader #raph x reader #michelangelo x reader #mikey x reader #rottmnt #rottmnt raph #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt leo #rottmnt mikey