Tumgik
#I AM VERY INSANE OVER THIS.
cloudnienty · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
i need to be Sedated
4K notes · View notes
gtwshark · 2 months
Text
ALARMING NEWS: GAY MEN STARE INTO EACHOTHERS EYES.
I don’t like them👍
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
351 notes · View notes
moderndaypandora · 1 year
Text
The LAYERS needed in a modern/human Dreamling au.  Some level of Endless family dysfunction, obviously.  Hob's family can be be dead or not, it's all good. Are they old enough to have individually gained the awareness they are off-puttingly intense and should hide it a bit at first, or still in that "no, why would I need to Elsa this" stage?
Option A is both of them trying to play it cool, like "don't scare him off" except they so badly want to go from zero to sixty.
(Death and Desire have ruthlessly drilled Dream with flashcards about how to react appropriately in situations.
Desire: it's your one-month anniversary, what do you do?
Dream: [hesitantly] NOT propose?
Desire and Death, conferring, because that's technically correct but the delivery was suspect.
Death, encouragingly: Good start. And?

Dream: a nice dinner and maybe a walk?
Desire: well done!
Death: and for a three-month anniversary?

Dream: give them a key to my flat.
Desire: [airhorn] NO. RED CARD.)
Option B makes them the classic anecdotal "my grandparents got engaged within seven days of meeting each other and still are happy together".
(Death, rubbing her temples: so you met this guy--
Dream: Hob
Death: -- Hob, and within 1 day you gave notice to the Registrar's Office and figured out the best day to get married. And Hob agreed to this?
Dream: NO.
Death: oh thank go-
Dream: Hob SUGGESTED this.
Death: . . .
Dream: are you going to be a witness or not?
Death, 29 days later in the Registrar's Office, to Hob's witness: Is he sane?
Johanna Constantine, drinking heavily from a large flask: unfortunately yes, by all legal definitions.
Death: fuck
Johanna: [passing the flask over] if your brother's even a tenth as intense as Hob, they'll be fine. Probably.
Death, brightening: Is Hob that bad?

Johanna: You know how sometimes you meet somebody and think "oof, they're a bit much, best give them a wide berth"?

Death: yeah.
Johanna: Hob's like a camouflaged hole in the ground of muchness. Except he's done the hole up all nice and he knows that sometimes you just want to be left alone in the hole to sulk and rattle the spikes for a bit, and occasionally get a F&M hamper tossed in.
Death: [hmmmmmmm'ing approvingly]
Johanna, morose: the bastard.
In the background, Hob and Dream are pressing their foreheads together and basking in each other's presence)
#dreamling#the sandman#it's underappreciated how many red flags hob probably is buried under his amiable exterior#he looked at dream of the endless and went 'yeah'#not even as a 'i can make him better'#very much as a 'i can vibe with his current state and frankly even if he was worse i'd still be like that's my husband [shrug emoji]'#'what am i supposed to do? i knew who he was when i married him'#everybody around them: [extremely done with their shit] STOP ENABLING HIM#hob: he's my goth sweetheart#dream's entire family: he's ten sulking cats in eyeliner and a dramatic coat#hob: i know :D i love him!#johanna constantine is like 'hob's insane'#and everybody's going 'oh no don't be so mean he's just a little boring next to dream'#johanna: he saw dream being dream and went 'i need to stamp my name on him. how do i permanently tie us together'#johanna: he'd never safety pin a condom but i can just see the gears turning in hob's head about how to get to spend more time with dream#johanna: just radiating smug contentment over his insane wet cat#hob: i cannot wait to spend the next 60 years with that man#hob: and ideally die in our sleep together still holding hands#death and johanna: [staring at him over their fourth round of drinks]#dream: [heart of eyes and pink of cheeks]#dream: we should never not be holding hands#hob: okay but what if occasionally we stop holding hands just to then appreciate the feeling of starting to hold hands again#dream: [mulling] acceptable#death and johanna could probably start an entire benefriends or actual romantic relationship entirely based on judging dreamling
1K notes · View notes
yellowjacketsource · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Jackie & Shauna (Yellowjackets, S01E10) "End of Beginning" by Djo
175 notes · View notes
crazymecjc · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
the world is very beautiful indeed.
131 notes · View notes
skitskatdacat63 · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
sobbing at how happy they all look
376 notes · View notes
cringefailcabitha · 12 days
Text
Tumblr media
I don't know you but I'll try to do Anything that gets me closer to you ,
93 notes · View notes
vampkomori · 5 days
Text
Ena the Order is the concept of conforming to Fate, and Elio is an Emanator of Order
welcome to my pre-2,2 theory, i got carried away.
for those yet unaware, theres been a theory flying around that the Goddess of Sigonia, Gaiathra Triclops, is a folkloric interpretation of Ena the Order, on account of the iris of Ena's eye having the same colors as Aventurine's. we can go much further with this though.
Tumblr media
(Aventurine's pupils are diamond-shaped, but little Kakavasha has round pupils. its likely that diamond-shaped pupils are a result of becoming a Stoneheart, because Topaz also has diamond-shaped pupils, and Aventurine used to not have them. but i digress)
Anyway, Gaiathra=Ena. Gaiathra is described as a left palm with 3 eyes, arguably Ena also has 3 eyes- two closed ones on their face, and one massive, open eye floating around them.
Gaiathra "reigns over all matters related to fertility, travels, and trickery." (Sigonia, Planar Ornament Relic Set) and is said to have been the one to bestow Aventurine with his luck.
but first: What is Order? Based on the words alone, youd think Order would have more in common with Equilibrium, but evidently that wasnt the case. Considering it was assimilated into the Harmony, it must have overlaps with that though, since the broader path is the one that absorbs the narrower one if their concepts are too similar. So, if Harmony is unity and peace, the idea of everyone joining a happy paradise, then how did the Harmony manage to absorb Order?
"I am filled with curiosity about how THEY swallowed up Order. The hymns of Xipe continue to spread and grow, occasionally overseen by ideology. In contrast, Ena's harmonic songs seems to align within a three-dimensional framework, akin to an emperor maintaining hierarchical order among all creatures. While there may be some overlap between THEIR Paths, the ancient Order is enormous in size, and swallowing THEM would prove far from effortless... Among the Aeons, there exist countless enigmas that surpass my own speculations." - Dev Log for Xipe in Simulated Universe, Herta's comment
Herta doesnt know either, and by all means a freshly ascended Aeon should not have an easy time absorbing someone as ancient as Ena- that is, unless Ena intended for it to happen.
This is a lot of establishing facts before i get to the meat of things. We still dont technically know what Order even is, so lets try figure it out!
"The planets governed by Ena adhere staunchly to established rules, yet I must acknowledge that the various calamities in the cosmos were all hindered by Ena's guardianship, leading to extremely efficient development of civilization among diverse planets. Interestingly, however, civilizations all eventually hit rock bottom because of Order. The ancient planets that once fervently worshiped Order would shine briefly before their total collapse... Perhaps this is the "Path" of these planets." - Dev Log for Ena in Simulated Universe, Herta's comment
So: Order is the concept of adhering to a predetermined outcome- their "path". Ena observes humanity "gazing into a crystal orb containing the cosmos" and ensures that they all follow their predetermined path of Fate. None may go astray, no outside influence may interfere, no matter what fate awaits them, they must follow their set path.
"THEIR voice is composed of syllables sequencing the rise and fall of civilizations in accordance with the Aeon's path."
Ena has the ability to foresee the future, as they dont just sequence the rise, but also the fall of civilizations. They are inherently impartial, just, things are destined to happen and so they see to it that they happen. Order is the concept of conforming to Fate, if a planet is destined to be destroyed by a calamity, then Ena guides it to that outcome.
However, Aeons, despite being concepts, arent just concepts, they have some semblance of sentience, self-awareness. they have goals, they make deals, though humans are unable to comprehend them.
So, Ena conforms to fate, but what is the purpose of doing so? Ena can see the future, but we know Kafka. there isnt just ONE future, theres a lot of futures, and endless paths. So its logical to assume that Ena, by being able to see the fates of civilizations, can actually see the endless amount of paths towards all possible fates, and personally chooses which path is specifically followed. and for the sake of the theory, lets assume Ena is benevolent and guides humanity towards the most fortunate fate (though even the most "fortunate" of fates can still end in destruction)
Before Ena was assimilated into the Harmony, they made a deal with Qlipoth the Preservation: Qlipoth will bring an end to Tayzzyronth the Propagation (as they are interfering with the predetermined Fates of planets) and in turn Ena will help Qlipoth against Oroboros the Voracity somehow (likely foreseeing its Fate and interfering with it). Qlipoth held up their end of the bargain, but Ena was assimilated before they were able uphold their part, which is interesting
We know theres something fishy about the Orders assmiliation into Harmony- it doesnt make sense, especially knowing that Ena foresees the future, and is likely aware of their own fate.
Heres where we remember that Gaiathra is also a goddess of trickery. Theres two possibilities:
Ena foresaw their own "demise" and made a deal with Qlipoth knowing they wouldnt be able to follow through on their part of the promise
Ena, able to see multiple paths for the future, foresaw that being assimilated into Xipe would lead them towards the most fortunate one, so they let themselves be absorbed on purpose, as the Harmony would not have been able to absorb the Order otherwise. The deal was just a bonus.
Either way, Ena would have known of the future, and making a deal shortly before the assimiliation of their path is clearly a scheme- they get something great out of it, and dont have to follow up on it.
Heres where we bring up Elio (and the Stellaron Hunters). We actually still dont know what path they follow, and isnt that so interesting? What path could possibly include following a "script" to ensure a certain future? hmmm
sounds like Order to me!
Elio possesses the ability to foresee future possibilities and the paths that lead towards them. Essentially, the exact ability that Ena is shown to possess. All the futures look pretty bleak though, except for one, which hes trying to achieve by making sure to follow that exact path: his "script". the very definition of Order.
Note also that despite Enas assimiliation, their faction can still exist. After all, Idrila the Beauty is also gone, but the Knights of Beauty still roam around. The path of a deceased or assimiliated Aeon can still be upheld even if the Aeon no longer exists.
Anyway, Elio is basically upholding Ena's legacy by ensuring that we adhere to fate, and guides us towards the most fortunate one. His ability is far too powerful though, so its safe to assume hes an Emanator, since theyre considered to be "as good as emissaries of the Aeons' wills"
*As a bonus, Gaiathra also reigns over "all matters related to 'travels'". if you stretch the definition a little, "travels" could refer to the idea of embarking on paths towards fate. you "travel" on a path, after all.
Theres also this interesting little tidbit here:
"THEY are always so symmetrical and so equal. If we were to rank those most sublime beings, only the Voracity and the Permanence can stand toe-to-toe with the Equilibrium's antiquity... Oh, and also the Order. After Ena disappeared, the Equilibrium's duties have only grown greater. Then, how would HooH perceive Nanook?"- Dev Log for HooH in Simulated Universe, Herta's comment
The fact that Nanook is brought up is pretty funny as theyre the youngest Aeon, and since only the most ancient ones would be able to stand "toe-to-toe" with HooH, youd think as the youngest, Nanook wouldnt stand a chance against them. but they were brought up regardless, in tandem with Ena no less
Coincidentally, Nanook is also the Aeon that Elio wants the Trailblazer to defeat too. Curious! You could say that it is the Will of the Order to see the fall of the Destruction? anyway,
HooH's duties "have grown only greater" since Ena disappeared, meaning that they must have overlapped in some way before, but coexisted. (similarly to how the Remembrance and Preservation coexist, possibly) We dont know much of anything about Equilibrium yet though, so lets put that aside.
Lets talk about luck.
Luck is just chance. The results of "chance" are left up to "fate". We know that not all choices or events matter in the grand scheme of things. Theres endless possible paths, so rolling a 1 or a 6 doesnt matter because it will still lead you onto the same destiny. Luck is irrelevant to fate, it does not influence it. Luck only influences how you arrive at it.
So how do you reconcile that with Order? if Order is staunchly adhering to fate, observing humanity to ensure they all end up on the "right" path, then how does chance, luck, happenstance, fit into all this?
Luck is the ultimate Order, because there is only ONE path that luck can take: the most fortunate one. It does not influence your fate however, luck only influences which one of the countless paths towards your fate you end up on. and always being lucky narrows your potential paths down to just one.
This is also why Nihility was the natural conclusion for Aventurine. If you realize that no matter what you do, you cannot change the outcome of your choices, then you realize its futile and decide to succumb to it. youll always win, so whats the point? Thats Nihility: succumbing to Fate, the inevitability of everything, realizing your choices dont matter. When youre lucky and everything you do leads to the same result then you start to think that maybe nothing matters.
Back on track though. Fate, despite being predetermined, is not singular. as in, theres predetermined fates (plural) waiting for you at the end of your path. theres multiple endings. Luck means you have less paths to end up on but luck does not influence the end goal.
In a way, what Elio is trying to do is very similar to what Aventurines "luck" does: he wants to end up on a very specific path that leads him to a very specific fate, and luck leads you onto one single path, theoretically making it easier to achieve certain fates. Its an interesting parallel.
"Blessing" someone with luck seems a bit too hands-on for someone like Ena, so while we might never know why Aventurine was blessed specifically, we can kind of see it as a sort of trial-run. Ena does not interfere, does not "defy" fate, but bestowing luck onto someone to narrow down their futures is a bit like interference- except its not, only on a technicality. theyre still adhering to the set paths that exist, after all, im not changing fate, what are you talking about? look, hes still on one of your predetermined paths. the fact that he cant go onto other paths is irrelevant if he still ends up at one of the predetermined endings.
As a note though, Ena is not Fate itself. Ena adheres to fate and ensures that humanity follows it. Nihility is basically succumbing to fate and thinking its inevitable and change is futile, and I guess you could see Harmony as the concept of circumventing fate- instead of arriving at one of your predetermined endings, how about you get assimilated into our harmonious hivemind and experience eternal bliss? (lets wait on that 2.2 harmony lore-drop before saying anything about that though)
got off track a little. basically, Ena's Order is the concept of conforming/adhering to Fate. potentially, in their era, Fate was a singular end, because they were the one to guide humanity onto certain paths and towards certain ends (which is why civilizations thrived but ultimately still collapsed). Enas assimiliation was on purpose, although we can only speculate on the reason. so i will. heres my speculation:
Ena is not Fate itself, but a Guide. seeing the countless possible paths and possible fates for humanity, they foresaw the same thing that Elio foresees- a terrible End at the hands of the Destruction that may affect humans and Aeons alike. potentially, Enas Will mightve been to avoid that (but remaining within the confines of fate, not defying it) so they set in motion the steps needed to embark on said path, which necessitated their assimilation into Harmony. if Enas reign caused the Fates of humans to be "set in stone", then Enas disappearance could be seen as humans regaining the ability to choose their own paths, their own fate. Essentially, Enas disappearance wouldve been necessary in order to even create the possibility of an "alternate ending" and leaving the choice up to humanity.
anyway thats the conclusion thanks for coming, godspeed if you read the whole thing. im bad at keeping things short and concise. and i started rambling near the end
as a disclaimer: these are vague thoughts and i change my view on things often. if we get new info in the future that says this was all nonsense then thats that. im not trying to convince anyone. just offering a perspective for funsies
63 notes · View notes
moonchild-in-blue · 29 days
Text
Okay I know I said I was going to stay offline for a while because headache, but I just had the most horrible thought and have to share.
You know the piano on Drag Me Under? The rhythm at which the keys are pressed? Is it just me, or it sounds eerily like a heartbeat? HEAR ME OUT.
I'm not saying it's supposed to sound like that, and I'm aware the tempo is slightly off from the normal/usual heartbeat rate BUT. What if it is? What if you look at it from that perspective?
In the lyrics, Vessel says that they are lying down together. What if this is his/his lover's heartbeat, like when you rest your head on someone's chest and can feel it echo in you?
If he is indeed being dragged down, maybe this is the final moment before the descent? Into Them or down under, I'm not sure. "To merely behold you" - what if this is him remembering their last encounter before They abandoned him? Before Atlantic took place? Since they can't be together? Since the rhythm bleeds nicely into Blood Sport, their parting song? The one before the Big Sad? Does this make sense or am I crazy??
65 notes · View notes
ganondoodle · 9 months
Text
the more time goes on the more negative i feel about totk, its got lots of reasons but aside from me thinking about what else they could have easily done instead of what we got its more and more bc its so put on a pedestal like its the best zelda ever and also its affecting botw in retrospect, not just by the lore, but the fact that people have been saying even shortly after totks release that theres 'no point playing botw' anymore, and will see botw as nothing but totks "bad" prototype is just SO infuriating to me
you know when you initially feel neutral (or ignorable dislike) about a character but then the fandom for some reason gets so insanely obsessed with them that you just start disliking them more and more over time ... yeah
220 notes · View notes
kayak-lmao · 4 months
Text
trad. doodles of @clownpalette 's oc Inka! I love her she's so silly :DD
Tumblr media
129 notes · View notes
general-grey · 6 months
Text
so.... who was gonna tell me that Lucio's masquerade costume was based on Raoul (phantom of the opera)'s masquerade costume
Tumblr media Tumblr media
106 notes · View notes
c10v3r · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
NNOOOO NOO LIGTHJBULLLB DDONT HOLD ITT INM
51 notes · View notes
tunastime · 11 days
Text
Restful Dreaming, Mr. Freelancer
hi everyone :3 so um. I may have gotten very much into rvb smiles. and you know what happens when I really love something! and when I really love some guys from a something! yeap. here we go again. I just think caboose could be friends with everyone. I'm a caboose enjoyer what can I say. I love him.
Washington follows the Blue Team back to Valhalla, where he tries to get some much needed rest. Emphasis on tries. (3828 words)
When Tucker and Caboose find the unused, fourth room in the base, it’s Tucker that sweeps his arm out and gestures grandly to the room around them. It’s not very large—bed, closet, table, desk, bathroom. Enough space to walk around in—enough blue-white light to make sure nobody goes insane in somewhere so dark. Caboose goes on about how they’re almost neighbors, listing off what they could do being so close, gossip and sleepovers and the like, and Tucker goes on about how that’s nice, Caboose, and sure thing, buddy, and both speak to a Wash that’s not listening. He’s looking over the room, filtering in through a fine layer of yellow, just enough to change the hue from cool to warm, and something settles in the slope of his shoulders. He turns after a beat, folding his arms.
“You’re certain I can stay here?” he asks. Tucker shrugs.
“Yeah, I mean…” he starts, in the way that Tucker always seemed to do when he was on the edge of a decision that ultimately made him uncomfortable. “Just repaying the favor. Plus you’re the only one who really knows how to get Church outta that thing.”
“Epsilon,” Wash corrects. “And it’s a memory unit, not a thing.”
“Sure,” Tucker shrugs. “Whatever.”
“We still don’t know where that thing is,” Wash says, but it’s without any of the usual bored sting he might’ve normally laid on. He can feel the worry in the room like water around the ankles, like it invaded his boots. He steps side to side for a moment, trying to shake the feeling.
“We’ll find it!” Caboose pipes up, nodding several times. “We’ll find Church. I know we will.”
Wash sighs. 
“Yeah,” he says. “I hope so.”
There’s a beat of silence. Wash feels his lungs work against the tight feeling in his shoulders all the way up until the point where Caboose breaks the silence.
“I’m going to go make lunch,” he says. “I’m starving.”
“Good point, Caboose,” Tucker agrees. He turns to Wash as he adds: “You, uh, let us know if you need anything. You’ve got the tour, now, so…”
Wash nods.
“Right,” he manages. “Thanks.”
“Sure thing.”
The silence leftover is mostly full of the sound of air circulating through the room and pulling into his helmet. Washington stands in the room in that long moment, finding his head spinning just enough to rock his balance. He’s not so sure he should even be standing, but Tucker had handed him enough med-kits to keep him running, and his bones felt mostly in place, despite some nasty bruising up his shoulder and back, all the way down his right hip and thigh and knee. He pulls himself from his stuck spot, finally gathering the strength to unlatch his helmet. Both thumbs hook under his chin until it clicks, and he sets it in the armor stand. 
The thing about the armor is that they’re not necessarily supposed to take it off. It does come off, huge chunks of titanium alloy perfectly compressed to fit each wearer, to sit comfortably against layers of computer arrays and magnetic fasteners, bolts and straps and sealers. As soon as he starts pulling, chest pieces and arm braces come loose, and he sheds the exosuit slowly. Underneath is the cool-black bodysuit. That’s the part that really shouldn’t come off. It did, every once in a while, when there was enough time to spend recalibrating, readjusting, resyncing. The suit and all its layers, down to the skin, down to the channel of his spine, from tailbone to nape of neck, aligned with sensors and biocomponents along a fine, white scar to a thick, but equally healed one at the base of his skull, took time to adjust to. That time was precious.
But it didn’t matter with this suit. There was no connection. The suit would simply communicate without having to know, would respond to forces it knew best, and rely on what he had without a physical, grounding connection. He was free of it. The scar and its components would fade from his body. They’d be nothing but a memory.
Carefully, Wash dissects the titanium bodysuit—kevlar—coming apart at the seam, carefully fastened, skin-tight. It’s uncomfortable at first, adjusting to the air of the base, without the suit’s micro-adjustments for temperature and humidity, but he eventually shirks free and places everything in the armor compartment. 
He feels light. He also feels exposed and a little small. He searches for any sort of replacement, sleeping clothes, uniforms, anything plastered with UNSC across the arm or chest or back. When he does find it, he’s quick to pull it on and over his head. The shirt falls crooked across him, pants similarly too large, and he has to wonder what sort of Spartan these were made for, knowing how he certainly wasn’t the smallest soldier he’d met. It’s something, though, and he doubts he’ll be wearing it for very long. In fact, he finds himself tugging it off as soon as he figures out the shower, and douses himself in hot water long enough to get the plastic smell off his skin. 
Without the shadow of the day, his reflection in the mirror takes on a sunken quality. His eyes are dark and tired, lines stretching out underneath them, and the already-pale, now-bony quality of his face does little to hide it. He’s turned all sharp angles all too quickly. But if he’s got anyone to bitch to it would be himself. Well, maybe Caboose and Tucker would listen. But they probably wouldn’t understand. Epsilon might’ve ratted out his bad sleeping habits to Caboose, were he still around to actually see them. But he very well was half the reason they existed, so, touche. 
Besides, now Wash was looking out on a bed that was impossibly too big for him. He pulls back far too many layers of blankets and pushes aside pillows and makes himself a space between it all.
The lights are dim, casting long, fine shadows in the cool light. They dim further to a blackness as he settles, lying back in the few pillows and pulling still-starchy sheets around him. His tired body all but sinks into the mattress, body aching at every joint from overuse, begging to stay and to be comforted. It's there he lies for a moment, adjusting to weight and pressure, air and texture around him. He sighs. It’s the longest exhale in what feels like a very long time. The back of his throat, up through his nose, starts to burn. 
He squeezes his eyes shut. He takes a sharp breath in.
Washington’s hands come up on instinct, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes as he fights back a sound from deep in his chest. It’s hard—it feels so stupid to call this hard, because he could just crack, just for a second. Just for a moment of relief, and—he does, shutting his eyes tight still and willing in a breath through his nose as he turns his face into pillows that he hopes were nobody else's and probably never were and never would be again. Nobody knows he’s alive. Not Command, not Project Freelancer, not the Meta—Maine. Not even Epsilon. For now. The weight of his shoulders was so instant it nearly winded him, on a bed seemingly too large. It was simply him, unshackled, and the blue-white armor in its case, and Caboose, and Tucker. And the base around him was quiet.. 
Washington lets his body relax. Sleep comes like a heavy blanket.
His second week’s worth of sleep doesn’t go as well. Tonight, Wash is still awake. It’s not of his own choice—if it were he’d already be asleep, curled into the plush pillows and firm mattress. He stares up at the ceiling. His eyes are dry, and it’s not all that comfortable to blink, actually. He’d prefer to focus on sinking into this nice bed, but he’s having a bit of a hard time. What he means by nice bed is that he’s gotten so used to sleeping on the ground or in the back seat of a moving Warthog or the jet or his cot so folded and unfolded that it stopped being comfortable, or the bunk that was just the right size but not nearly deep enough to fit him without moving, that having actual room to move around is really good. It’s really good, actually, and he’s not sure when the last time he had such a nice sleep was. 
He’s not even sure when he woke up that first day, aside from the fact that it was Caboose waking him up and it was still dark out—or had just gotten that way. Maybe he’d slept that whole day. But he wandered around the Valhalla base instead, swallowing down the ache low in his spine. He mapped the rooms in his head, twisting around the circular hallways. Kitchen, armory, five rooms, garage, a small central living quarters that remained barren and empty, aside from bits of broken computers, radios, and robot parts. The floor still smelled like cleaner, remnant from the UNSC’s thorough cleaning.
Anyway—he’s still awake in his own room. His eyes hurt. He’s looking into the dark grey ceiling and wondering if sleep might crawl its way back to him when there’s a knock on the door. There’s a brief pause before it happens again. He frowns, scrubbing at his eyes as his brain fights the fog settling over it.
“Agent Washington,” a voice says, feigning a whisper through the sliding door. 
“Caboose?” he whispers back, furrowing his eyebrows. Isn’t it late? He looks over to the bedside table, reading the dull red numbers on the clock—yeah. Late. “What are you still doing up?”
He hears Caboose sigh. If he thinks hard enough he can imagine him leaning against the metal frame, cheek pressed against the door, looking about as pathetic as he sounds.
“I can’t sleep,” he says, part tired and almost part sad. 
“Why’s that?”
“I—” Caboose lowers his voice even further. “I had a nightmare.”
Wash blinks slowly, sitting up, eyebrows still furrowed as he frowns. He counts himself lucky that his head isn’t spinning from lying down too much. Sighing, he presses his fingers to his eyes, rubbing the sleep from them, trying to make the blurry room come back into focus.
“You—” he tsks as he words jumble in his brain, hazy with sleep. “Why did you come here?”
“Can I come sleep with you?” Caboose asks, completely ignoring the previous question. Heels of the hands to his eye sockets. Alright. Fine. He waves uselessly at the door, knowing full well Caboose can’t see him. Then it clicks in his brain: response. Right.
When Wash goes to give him an answer, it’s replaced by the sound of his bedroom door sliding open and shut and Caboose wandering in. The muddled dark obscures his silhouette more than usual and the normally wide slope of his shoulders was much more drawn in than Wash was expecting. He’s partially shrouded by his own blanket, wrapped around him as he steps in. 
Wash feels something rolling around in  chest as he watches Caboose shuffle over, like his brain isn’t absorbing the situation properly. He mostly just feels lost. He’s still sitting up, slouched forward, mouth a fine line. His arms pool in his lap, head tilted just so as he observes Caboose in front of him. This is weird, right? Not in a bad way. It’s just weird. 
Caboose stands there, frowning just a little bit, enough to almost be a pout, mostly looking at the bedside and not at Washington.
“I—” Wash starts, trying to protest. Caboose looks up at him for a moment with wide, brown eyes, and Wash feels his chest tighten. He shuts his eyes, sighing out of his nose. Then he pulls the covers back, gesturing vaguely to the space next to him as he lies back down. If there was one thing he’d learned from Caboose, it was that there was no arguing a point once he’d made his mind up. He was as stubborn as he was strong, and the man wasn’t slight. 
There’s a beat of silence as Washington gets comfortable again against the mattress again, feeling Caboose move to his left. He worms around a bit, knee bumping the outside of Wash’s leg, elbows knocking together as Caboose makes more of Wash’s bed his own space. With Caboose’s arm now pinning his own, he clears his throat.
“Caboose,” he says firmly.
“Washington,” Caboose says, like his name holds the same weight as it did so long ago. At least someone’s impressed.
He sighs. Caboose is a heavy, warm weight against his side, and although he clings to his left arm like his life might depend on it, Washington couldn’t necessarily call it bad. 
“You can either get comfortable,” he says slowly. “Or I’m going to ask you to leave.”
“Okay,” Caboose says quickly, wriggling further over. As his head lolls, it falls against the bone of the high of Wash’s shoulder. He ends up curled up in the space Wash’s side leaves open, head on his shoulder and arm over his ribcage. He’s heavy, holding himself and Wash to the mattress as he relaxes. Wash’s arm ends up pinned under him, bendable at the elbow, enough to shift around and find a comfortable spot to rest it. Caboose manages to pull the blankets over them both haphazardly, lying part on him and part over Washington’s torso. He squeezes his eyes shut. Caboose cannot be serious. This can’t be his solution, right? He takes a long breath in. Caboose finally says:
“Thank you, Washington,” in a soft and sleepy voice mostly muffled by his shoulder.
Washington sighs.
“Sure, Caboose,” he says, resigned. “Glad I could help.”
Caboose hums, sounding comfortable. In the time it takes for Caboose to finally knock out, how short of a time that was, Wash finally relaxes. He lets the weight around him settle him on the mattress, tired and heavy, and lets his eyes close. He can’t catch the edge of sleep just yet, but he can lay here, quiet and still, so that Caboose can sleep. He matches the slow rise and fall of Caboose’s shoulders, feeling his muscles slacken as he drifts off. Maybe it’s nice, actually. The weight against his side, pressure to the muscles that ache, warmth and heavy comfort. He can’t remember the last time someone shared the same bed space as him—those bunks were too small to really fall asleep next to somebody in, and sleeping in shifts wasn’t the same as someone sleeping against you. 
He can faintly feel where Caboose’s cheek is crushed against his shoulder, where his arm rests over his chest, hand tucked against his other side. When he looks over, Caboose’s eyes have shut, face relaxed in sleep. There, he leans, pressing his cheek to the top of Caboose’s head, squeezing his eyes shut. Maybe it is nice. Maybe being needed for something so innocent as comfort could be nice. His chest twists, something as painful as it is warm weaseling up next to his lungs. 
It reminds him of Invention. Nobody really wanted to leave York alone after the accident on the training room floor. He could fall or trip, he could miscalculate and hit into something harder than expected. They spent time crammed into the bunk spaces, shoulders to shoulders, to hips, to legs over knees, trying to catch sleep in between missions, how little time that was. Washington found himself in these moments more often than not, and now more than ever it seemed that touch was a thing not often disseminated. But he had it now, and he let himself have it. He let Caboose snore into the hollow of his shoulder and tuned it out as he tried to rest.
In the morning he’ll ask him what bothered him so much that he couldn’t sleep, or why he thought Wash could help. It wasn’t important now. 
For now, he just tries to sleep.
Wash feels heavy. 
He blinks his eyes open, the world coming to in barely-there light and soft blankets. There’s a weight over him, warm and solid. Caboose still sleeps soundly even as Wash shifts to stretch pins and needles from his left arm. The world stays still, held in a quiet balance. In it, Caboose breathes slowly and evenly against his shoulder, torso still haphazardly thrown across Wash’s chest. He’s curled his hand in a loose fist, snagging part of Wash’s shirt. 
Washington sighs. There lingers a heavy, groggy feeling over his mind that he thinks he’ll have a hard time shaking, remnants of running too hard, too fast without stopping. He fought so hard only to again come up empty handed, aside from the now-bitter taste of his freedom. But for now he focuses on this moment. He rests his cheek against the top of Caboose’s head. 
As he does, Caboose hums, waking enough to tense and relax again.
“Good morning, Caboose,” Wash manages tiredly, lying still. Caboose doesn’t move either, except to shift his cheek to a more comfortable position.
“Hello, Washington,” Caboose says, slow and sleep-thick but cheery. “You let me stay!”
Wash huffs out something, maybe a laugh and maybe a sigh.
“You’re surprised?” Wash asks, staring at the ceiling. It takes a minute for Caboose to answer, and in that time, Wash’s eyes shut, too heavy to hold open. Caboose draws his arm back from his chest.
“Tucker’s not very cuddly,” he says, only partially answering the question. “I can’t really judge if people will like it.”
“I take it not many do?” He asks. Caboose shrugs, somewhat stilted, speaking in that long, sighing way that he does.
“It varies.”
Wash hums.
“Right.”
In a beat of silence, Caboose unravels himself. He sits up, swaying a bit, shuffling around. It leaves a cold hollow where he used to lie, and Wash pulls his arm back from where it used to curl around him. He folds his hands over his sternum as Caboose sits up and shifts back.
“How did you sleep!” He asks, leaning forward, arms resting on his knees. Wash nods, finally blinking his eyes open.
“It was fine,” he says slowly. “How did you sleep?”
Caboose shrugs again.
“I slept okay—” he says. “You scared off all my bad dreams I think.”
Wash snorts, furrowing his eyebrows. Caboose blinks down at him with wide eyes. It’s almost catlike, the way he watches over him, like he’s waiting for Wash to reach out and force him to move out of his space. He’s still slightly blurry, courtesy of the sleep in Wash’s eyes.
“I did?” Wash asks. Caboose nods, looking sincere
“Yep.”
Wash looks away, huffing out. Something turns in his chest, warmly at that.
“Well that’s good,” he says. Caboose nods again. He’s just far enough away that in the dim lighting Washington can’t really read his face, but it seems soft and comfortable and Wash tries to remember if that’s a good thing. There’s only so many times you see someone’s face while being out in the field that you sort of just learn reactions based on tone and less on body language. After a beat, Wash says, haltingly, brain trying to find the words:
“Caboose, what… what is it that you had a nightmare about? What—why did you come to me?”
Caboose shrugs, waving his hands back and forth. He’s not looking at him.
“Oh, you know, just about Church and Epsilon, and Tex, and you, and everyone dying and exploding and dying again,” he sighs, shoulders falling, looking distinctly less bothered than Wash expects him to be. It puts something cold-to-cool in the pit of his stomach. “But it’s okay, you’re still here! And nightmares are afraid of you.”
Wash swallows.
“Oh,” he says lamely. It doesn’t feel right, all of a sudden, to just be sitting here. Caboose tilts his head at him.
“Did you have a nightmare, Agent Washington?” he asks, leaning forward a bit. He squints at him. Wash stares back, eyes wide. “You look kinda pale.”
“Um, no,” he says plainly. “No I don’t… normally dream.”
“Oh,” Caboose says. His face drops. “That sounds sad.”
Wash shakes his head.
“It’s fine.”
Caboose hums, tapping his hands on his knees.
“You can tell me if you ever have a nightmare,” he says, smiling, a pleased look crossing his face. “I can come and scare it away.”
Wash snorts, a smile creeping onto his face. He folds his hands together, tracing out the edge of his thumb with his other thumb. He furrows his eyebrows as he looks up at Caboose.
“Are you looking for an excuse to sleep next to someone?” He asks, a curious lilt to his voice. Caboose blinks, eyes falling to his hands. He shrugs.
“No…” he says. Then, “Maybe.”
“Well it…” Wash sighs, shutting his eyes again. “It was nice. Thank you, Caboose.”
“Mhm,” Caboose says sleepily.
There’s a moment of silence. Wash moves to get more comfortable, shifting back to rest his head properly on the pillows. He can feel his body sag as he does, that tired tug pulling on his shoulders and hips and eyes. He drums his fingers against his sternum, watching Caboose. Caboose’s eyes slip shut for a moment as he leans hand against his hand. 
“I’m uh…going to try to get some more sleep,” he finally manages, clearing his throat. Caboose stays still, as if he’s fallen asleep again, shoulders weakly rising and falling as he breathes. “Caboose?”
There’s no answer. Caboose leans sideways as Wash goes to reach for him, folding like he’d lost all his core stability. As he crumples, he falls forward, half onto Wash in front of him, half into the bed itself.
“Caboose,” Wash tries again. Caboose doesn’t move, sinking further into his side.
Wash sighs. Caboose stays, solid and heavy and thrown over his chest. He feels like a little kid again, sharing a room with his sisters, or he feels like it’s some time back in training, both cats making their home on his chest. Caboose was kind of like a cat. If a cat were a dog, were late to the punch, were the same level as unable to catch the joke as he was. It was kind of sweet. Wash shifts him ever so slightly, until he’s leaning into his side again, head against his shoulder.
Caboose yawns, sighing out against his shoulder, shuffling to get comfortable. Wash curls his arm over his back, hand cupping around his shoulder, smoothing his thumb over the seam of his shirt. Caboose makes a little noise, a little sigh, and falls quiet. The world, too, is warm and quiet. Somewhere in that warmth, a soothing feeling washes over him.
Just a little more sleep, he thinks. Then he’ll get up.
50 notes · View notes
iamhereinthebg · 1 year
Text
A lot of theories have been out with the new tbhk chapter (101). And one I saw several times is the idea that Amane was a clock keeper of the present when he was alive. 
It’s understandable to see that so many people think this with the new chapter which seems to go into a new clock keepers arc, who are probably for now, one of the biggest question marks of the manga. 
In the new chapter, Amane is seen to repair a big clock. One which is now in a sealed auditorium. He was given the task to repair it, until the end of the festival. 
The idea of memory loss is the biggest point here. Because Hanako even remembers stuff from when he was 4.
Tumblr media
If Amane was a clock keeper of the present, how would he have forgotten everything about them? It is possible that every clock keeper of the present forgets anything related to supernaturals once their contract ends, hence why it was never really implemented in the rumor that one of them is a human. 
Hanako is also far from being Amane, he is supernatural . Or there is the chance that he forgot all of his memories related to some stuff when he was sealed by Minamoto Grandma. He may have forgotten everything related to supernaturals involved with him when he was alive. Since we have no idea if he remembers Nene from when she traveled in time during the festival. 
 There are a lot of possibilities on why Hanako may have forgotten about all of this. 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Time is also a theme which is recurrent in a lot of things that concern Amane/Hanako. And this new page seems to highlight it.
Hanako is a ghost, a being stopped in Time. Time being stopped has a lot of time been associated with death in tbhk. And he is obsessed with Time, the idea to stop and manipulate it, and he has been since a long time in the manga. His first idea to save Nene was probably linked to the clock keepers, and he has a strange interest in Akane and his powers, going as far as to try to blackmail him to have something out of him. He wishes to stop Nene’s time or time in general. To save Nene, to enjoy the present, and to prevent his friends from moving on without him. 
Tumblr media
Amane is the only human who got his fate changed. Aoi and Nene were about to have it changed too. I strongly believe that a supernatural being/occurence needs to be here for a fate to change. It’s not a stretch to imagine for Amane, that all those back and forth in time altered his fate. With Nene going back in time to see him twice, stealing a key in the first memory, and making him accidentally make a wish to see her again in the second. Tsukasa also has been back in the future and back to his time, and a supernatural thing was always the cause of it. 
So did the clock keepers change Amane’s fate or at least push him into this direction?
Even if Amane wasn’t a part of the clock keepers, there is a high chance that this clock is still linked to them. If the clock he was repairing was the clock keeper’s, then he would have had his time taken away, as the rumor said.
But it’s heavily implied that Amane killed himself. I personally don’t think it’s the clock keepers’ clock, because the one presented in the mysteries meeting is way closer in terms of imagery to the clock keepers’ clocks. It may be though, the clock keepers’ clock from the rumor. 
Tumblr media
The clock we see during the mysteries’ meeting is probably in a boundary, so far away from human’s eyes. The one people may have seen may be the grand clock Amane is repairing. Amane may have been known for trying to fix this clock, and he died. People definitely knew he did, a (probably) murder-suicide in school would have been talked about between students, resulting in creating or altering the rumor of the clock keepers. Rumors and Legends always have a part of truth, but a lot of things in the rumors told by humans are wrong. About n°2, n°4, n°6 and even °7. Even if this is a stretch I still think it’s interesting to point it out.
Tumblr media
There are a lot of question marks around this plot tbh or if this is even a real theory. There is also a lot which doesn't really add up for Amane to be part of the clock keepers.
The first one is the most obvious. The lack of reaction when Hanako met the clock keepers. Even if Hanako is really good at hiding stuff he doesn’t want people to see, his reaction to the clock is absolutely not controlled. Hanako never talks about himself, or at least tries not to divulge information. When he talks to Nene here, it’s mostly from shock, because he knows something happened, but he can’t remember what and why he was asked to take care of this clock. He fears not remembering things because he has no control over it. He acts like this in all his encounters with Tsukasa for example. When he meets the clock keepers, either in flashback or just meeting Akane, he has absolutely no reaction contrary to the way he is in front of the grand clock in the auditorium. If he was part of the clock keepers for 1-2 years (since he died at 13) I think he would have some reaction if it was such a big part of his last years of life. 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
 The mysteries are absolutely awful at socializing but they still recognize and know each other, even if from far away. Some of them know what has been going on, and who has each seat. Yako and Hakubo still instantly recognized him as number 7, even if Hakubo clearly isn’t the type to go out often and Yako hasn’t seen Hanako in a long time. The only one who is not well known is, understandably, Akane who has been here only for 3-4 years.
Tumblr media
The only character who knows absolutely everything that is going on, is number 5, Tsuchigomori. Who is also Amane’s teacher. I think their relationship would have been different if Amane was involved with supernaturals. He calls him Yugi and not by any number and he acts a lot with Amane, playing the role of the teacher, which he rarely does when he is known to be supernatural by the person in front of him.  I am pretty sure Tsuchigomori and Akane know each other from far away, Tsuchigomori dropped the biggest set up about Akane not being fully human after all when talking to Nene. 
I won’t cross the idea that AidaIro just wanted to hide it if Amane was a clock keeper, but I still think it’s strange. Especially when we know that this memory we see in the 4pm bookstacks is coming from Tsuchi and not Hanako.
Tumblr media
So except if Hanako has lost all memories of the clock keepers (which is a pretty weak plot point in my opinion) I don’t think Amane was the clock keeper of the present. 
After all, what do we know about the clock keepers and especially the one of the present for now? 
I think there is a possibility that Akane is the first human clock keeper.
Let’s only focus on what we know in the manga for now,  it is pretty obvious that Hanako doesn’t know where the boundary of the clock keepers is. 
And it leads to some questions: We can see that Hanako here is talking with two clock keepers, except if Mirai can change shape, it is safe to assume that those two here are the clock keepers of the present and the past. 
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Why would Hanako say this if he actually met the clock keeper of the present before? The first idea is that it is someone like Tsuchigomori, but Akane is human. Even if it makes sense for the representative of the present to be like this (he is living in the present with people contrary to all supernaturals) the idea that the present is a human, or at least, hiding as a student, is also a supernatural’s only rumor. This is something the humans who spread rumors never ever heard about.
 Number 6 seems rather shocked/confused to see a human stopping time. Akane can’t hide his presence from other supernaturals even with his glasses. Hakubo didn’t check if he was related to the supernaturals or not when Akane was not even wearing his glasses. Was he even aware of the fact that one of the clock keepers was human in the first place?
Tumblr media
As I said before, If the clock keepers of the present were humans even before Akane, the only reason I can think of for them to never say anything or just continue with their life is because they forget everything once the contract ends.
The fact that the Minamotos never interfered when they did with Number 7 in the past (Minamoto grandma) is also pretty strange. Supernaturals, especially the mysteries aren’t supposed to drag humans with them or hurt them. Teru said that the mysteries are a threat now after the story with Yako and how she put students’ lives at risk. The clock keepers endangered  Aoi and Akane’s life. If they always used such methods to recruit each clock keeper of the present and then turned a human half supernatural, I think it’s enough to make n° 1 at the top of the ‘to exorcize’ list of the Minamotos. Teru even insists on the fact that he let things slide only because Akane is human.
Tumblr media
 Another big point, is the names. Even in a bonus Hanako doesn't hesitate to name a dog with Nene and Kou. 
If the clock keeper of the present before Akane was human, they would have already given a name to them in my opinion. It’s a natural thing humans do, not caring/giving names is a really supernaturals thing.  Hakubo never had a name before Sumire gave him one either, his master despite being his parental figure never had a name, the mysteries call each other only by numbers (or insults). Sumire gave him one because she acknowledges him as a person she cares about, contrary to all the exorcists who had to give him orders before. Mirai uses the name Akane gave her to name herself a lot, even Kako reacts when he is being called. Akane doesn’t even like the clock keepers, says that he doesn’t care about how supernaturals are called but he still gave them names because they didn’t have any before he became one.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Mirai is canonly stupid, like really stupid.  Kako has more restraint so it makes sense for him to show absolutely nothing. But Mirai is really really attached to Akane, she doesn’t hesitate to jump on him or annoy him whenever she wants.  And she is also the one who noticed Akane when he was only a first year to recruit him. I really think if Amane had anything to do with the clock keepers she wouldn’t be able to hide it. Especially if she gets attached like this to the clock keeper of the present. 
Tumblr media
Even if Akane is not the first human clock keeper of the present. I still hope we will have answers on what they really are and on how they are chosen, and where are the ones who were here before Akane, what happened to them?
 We are close to a new clock keepers arc with all the clocks imagery in this chapter. The clock keepers also have the power that most people want to use and which is acknowledged even by strong characters as a real advantage/threat since the beginning of the manga. A power that both side has been trying to have (mostly Hanako vs Teru first and now probably the main characters vs the broadcasting club). They also are the oldest mystery, and Kako always appears to have a lot of authority even if he isn’t techically the leader.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Natsuhiko coming to see Akane at the end of the chapter is also for something. The manga has been building up the fact that Akane is the weak link of the three and he has been approached by nearly half of the cast at this point. And not to have his help as Akane, but clearly because he is n°1. He has less knowledges than the other two, and mostly he is human. He has weaknesses and is mortal, he is way easier to approach and blackmail than the other two even if he is as he says ‘the lowest of the clock keepers’.
Tumblr media
The next arc will probably be about number 1, and the grand clock has something to do with them. The red house imagery having so many clocks and the Yugis having so much time travel in their story must be for something.
I also really wonder what will happen if the grand clock start moving again and what needs to be done for making it work.
I can’t wait to see what AidaIro plan to do with all these characters and how linked to the clock keepers the Yugi backstory will be.
340 notes · View notes
sarahjacobs · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
punk spot and goth sarah stuff 🫰
i also made playlists of the kind of music i think they'd listen to :') you can listen to spot's here. most tracks fall under the hardcore subgenre, but there's also a good amount of ska and pop. generally has a chaotic, garage, and/or dated kind of sound, really wanted the kind of stuff that scratches my brain in a specific, rough way
there's also sarah's playlist, which i'm less confident about because i'm wayyy more immersed in punk subculture and music. but. i tried! some gothic rock, mostly punkabilly and gothabilly. i feel like she'd be into music that has that campy slasher feel, so that's the overall mood i was gunning for
#newsies#92sies#uksies#sarah jacobs#spot conlon#drawings#confession idk anything about uksies this is purely based on vibes bcuz the concept of a pinoy nonbinary spot has charmed me#anyways more nerdy stuff ahead i am so sorry >>>#i heart thinking about what characters would be like if they were punk it is so fun#i view sarah as punk usually so it's interesting to compare & contrast her and spot#like sarah i personally cant see modifying her hair or her body much. she'd mostly stick to diying clothes and jewelry#so while she IS punk she's not the kind of punk that most people auto think of#but spot feels like someone who'd /really/ want to lean into all the trappings of punk. being intimidating AND cool#so they're spiky all over. hair piercings jacket are sharp#sarah's battle jacket is a comfortable corduroy material. it's colorful and has random scraps of fabric bcuz the goal is#to make the original jacket last as long as possible#whereas spot's has more inflammatory patches and is strictly black and white and has the sleeves cut off#and has non fabric stuff attached like the spikes and studs and also soda can tabs#because they also strike me as someone who collects random odds and ends. hence the bottle caps repurposed as pins#i also wanted to play around with adding chains and safety pins onto their jacket but alas#ultimately had to prioritize readability#same thing w sarah i wanted to give her layered necklaces and more maximalist elements to her outfit but it ended up muddying everything up#anyways. im insane but specificity is very important to me for punk stuff just because i think#'punk versions of xyz' tend to water down what punk actually is by prioritizing the aesthetics of rebellion without being specific#in What they are rebelling against. which is why these headcanons lack inflammatory political ideas and punk bands#or like they'll just have the circle A sign and it's like ok but do you know what anarchism is and what anarchist praxis looks like#also spot would not be an anarchist tbh they read as more of a commie#they are not doing nonhierarchical based organizing iykyk
29 notes · View notes