#anyways. fic of this concept maybe

[transgendersquiddo]

fallen angels.

ft. swagdoons

image credits:

Blessed by C D on flickr // Angel stuff from my sketchbook by ultrainfinitepit on tumblr // Paradise Lost by Gustave Dore // a river flowing under a bridge surrounded by trees by Arturo Rodriguez on unsplash // photo by ada and john on flickr

text credits:

Corpse by doe-prince on tumblr // post by cemeterything on tumblr // post by cemeterything on tumblr

#rosesandsmokeweek2024 #ashswag #reddoons #tw religious imagery #no id #web.core #anyways!!! final one of this week #its been fun :) #anyways. fic of this concept maybe #maybe.... #swagdoons

[merakiui]

Okay speaking of magical girls.... Evil villain tako that has a crush on the cute magical girl at NRC but he doesnt know shes the magical girl that's trying to thwart his evil plan of taking over sage's island mwhaha

YES YES YES. And every week he gets his ass handed to him. You're determined to keep Sage's Island safe!!!! He's trying to get to know you through the fights. The (one-sided) sexual/romantic tension is too much. Tako who flirts at every chance during your fights... you genuinely want to take him out (defeat him), but he wants to take you out (on a date). And it's so obvious he's down bad for you, but you have no idea he's Azul Ashengrotto (your fellow classmate) and he has no idea of your identity either. Azul's trying to balance his love for the magical girl he fights on weekends and his darling classmate who he sees during the week hehe. How fortuitous that they are the same person.

Please imagine that trope where the villain ensnares the hero in tentacles, but it ends up looking more erotic than threatening....... orz evil villain tako whose tentacle is holding you upside down by the ankle and he's monologuing about how he'll take over the island and you'll get to watch, powerless against him. But then he looks at you and your skirt has flipped up and he's granted a gratuitous panty shot!!!!!!! Tako who gets a nosebleed on the spot. He's such a loser pervert. <3

Omg omg or you're squirming in the tentacles and ranting about how you'll get him for this, but Azul's trying so hard not to give into the horny thoughts because the way the tentacles are looped around you and squeezing is so attractive to him.

Like that one scene where Stocking's fighting the octopus ghost LOL.

#twisted chit chat #n/sfw #no one can shake azul from his pompous villain monologues quite like his darling can #on second thought maybe he won't get another angst fic #maybe i'll write this sort of concept with him #magical girl aus are so fun orz #OMG HIS VILLAIN OUTFIT IS THE GLOMAS OUTFIT.................. #villain jade or villain floyd is also a yummy thought #twin villains who drive you insane because they're so annoying #omg maybe you're actually their maid outside of being a magical girl but they don't know that #and you don't know they're the villains always causing so much trouble #crowley is your pocket-sized mentor mascot and he's TERRIBLE at his job #(name): a little help here crowley!!! how am i supposed to beat *that* (gesturing to overblot tako) #crowley: believe in yourself? :3 anyways good luck don't die~~~ #too many thoughts...

[snailsnaps]

*evils cutely*

#this is just a concept for the fic i wanted to put into paper #pulse protocols #maybe maybe maybe not maybe #gotta show love to Beta DJ anyways my man is so unhinged #sketches #beta dj music man #beta djmm #snailsnaps #fnaf sb dj music man #dj music man #fnaf dj music man #fnaf security breach djmm #fnaf sb djmm #djmm #djmm x reader #fnaf music man #fnaf x reader #fnaf security breach #fnaf sb #fnaf

[astrobei]

for @quinnick: kiss prompt #4 - lips barely touching

The car is out of gas. Will is about ten seconds away from maybe-dying (again). Mike Wheeler has been abnormally quiet today.

At least of late, one of those things is more abnormal than the others. 

The car is always out of gas. Will doesn’t know when the last time they’d filled it up was, but he does know that it’s not his problem trying to figure it out. That’s Hopper’s deal. Or his mom’s, maybe. Or Nancy’s, or Jonathan’s, or–

Whatever! The point is that the car is out of gas, Mike and Will are stranded at the currently closed general store, and they’re probably about to die.

Again.

“Mike,” Will tries, for maybe the hundredth time. “It’s not your fault, okay, it could’ve happened to anyone–”

“Yeah,” Mike grumbles miserably, as they round the corner, from aisle four – cleaning supplies and household items – into aisle five – canned goods. Most of the shelves are empty, turned over. Mike picks up a can of pickled green beans, pulls a face, and puts it back on the shelf. “But it didn’t happen to anyone. It happened to me.”

Will takes a long, deep breath in through his nose. God forbid Mike Wheeler ever let anything go. “You didn’t know,” he huffs anyway. “It’s not your fault.” The store is dark, which is great for being able to roll your eyes without Mike seeing. Will’s flashlight sputters, briefly, the bright circle of light flickering in and out of view. He smacks it against his palm once, twice, and it steadies. “Seriously,” Will adds, as Mike slows to a stop in front of him. “Stop beating yourself up. So we have to wait for a ride. Big deal.”

Mike turns around to face him. His expression is mostly unreadable in the dark, but Will’s flashlight catches the edge of it – worried, a little guilty. “Yeah,” Mike says softly. “Except there are things everywhere and waiting for a ride is just– we’re sitting ducks here, okay,” Mike frowns. “I don’t like it. It feels like tempting fate.”

“Well, the simple fact of my existence feels like tempting fate sometimes,” Will jokes. It works, for a split second – Mike’s furrowed brows smooth out into something halfway amused, and he makes a noise that might be a laugh.

“Not funny,” Mike says anyway. His lips twitch.

“You laughed!” Will insists, smiling. His voice carries down through the hallway in a vibrant echo. “I know you did!”

“Shut up,” Mike whispers, looking away. “Would it kill you to keep your voice down?”

It might. Somewhere in the back of Will’s mind, he’s vaguely aware that they’re not safe here, out in the open, and that the whole point of them coming inside instead of waiting in the parking lot was to hunker down until Jonathan and Nancy could get another car here to pick them up. And also, preferably, get some gas.

Somewhere significantly closer in Will’s mind, though, is the knowledge that this is the most Mike has said – and the closest he’s come to laughing – since the car had stalled on the way from the cabin to the general store ten minutes ago, and Mike had just barely had time to pull into the abandoned parking lot before it had stopped altogether. He knows Mike doesn’t like this – being caught off-guard, out in the open. Even minute changes in the plan – which you’d think they’d all be more prepared for, considering the way things have been going lately – get Mike a little keyed up.

And the sorry, borderline pathetic part is this: despite it all, despite the ever-present threat of danger, and the impending sense of doom that’s been hanging over their heads for what seems like forever, Will feels vaguely pleased with himself anyway, seeing Mike hold back a smile instead of forcing one on his face.

So yeah, it might kill him, if he kept his voice down. That’s okay. Will thinks it would be worth it, sometimes – the danger and the doom and everything else – to hear Mike laugh.

God, what’s wrong with him? That’s embarrassing. That’s so embarrassing.

He shakes the thought off. “Whatever,” Will says instead, praying the cover of darkness is hiding the blush that’s rapidly rising to his cheeks. He angles  the flashlight away from them anyway, just in case, and Mike’s face falls back into silhouette. “You know I’m right. You’re doomed just by being here with me.”

Mike shakes his head. “You know I don’t think of you like that.”

Will frowns. “Like what?”

“Like– like a bad luck charm,” Mike waves his hands around. “Or whatever.”

“I didn’t say bad luck charm,” Will exclaims. “Ouch! Stop putting words into my mouth.”

Mike grins. “Would you rather have, uh,” he picks up the nearest can to him, something small and vaguely gray, “tinned sardines in your mouth? Tinned sardines in water? Oh, gross. Never mind, actually.”

“I would rather not,” Will decides, even though the shelves are so bare that they might have to suck it up and take home the tinned sardines in water after all. “Would you like some, uh. Tuna?”

“I guess we know why there’s so much fish,” Mike sighs, leaning heavily against an empty shelf. “Nobody wanted it.”

“You mean the ten people outside of our circle of friends that are still left in Hawkins? Yeah,” Will scoffs, then sets the can back down with a soft clink. “I guess not.”

Neither of them say anything for a moment. It’s quiet in the store, the room dark and lit faintly by Will’s flashlight and the display in the corner. It lights Mike up a faint blue, catches the edges of his jaw and where his hair is curling softly over the hood of his jacket. 

Will’s flashlight sputters again. 

When it comes back on this time, it’s more faint than it was before. It’s dark in here, Will realizes, a bit belatedly. Like, really dark.

He takes a deep breath and shuffles closer to Mike, just a little, like the shape of his body all leaned against the empty shelves is a grounding force. Mike gives him a look that Will can’t quite decipher in the dark.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Will breathes out. The proximity is helping, a little. “Just– waiting for our ride.”

Mike leans in a bit closer too, places an arm under Will’s elbow. It’s a light touch, nothing forceful, but the semblance of support is there. “You sure? You look a little pale.”

Sometimes, Will hates how well Mike knows him. He doesn’t get antsy in the same way Mike does in situations like these, but he’d be lying if he said they didn’t affect him at all. It should be expected by now, the automatic fight or flight. 

For some cruel reason, it still isn’t. “You can’t even see me,” he says, but lets himself lean into the touch anyway.

“I can see enough,” Mike says easily. “Do you want to sit down?”

Will shakes his head. The only thing worse than waiting out in the open is sitting out in the open. At least when you’re standing, you can run. “No. I’m fine.”

Will can’t see Mike either, but he’d be willing to bet real money – that he doesn’t have – that he can tell exactly what Mike’s expression looks like. The pause grows, swells and swells and swells, until Will is sure Mike is going to say something–

There’s a clattering outside.

Instantly, Mike’s hand tightens its grip on Will’s elbow. “Did you hear that?”

“Yes,” Will hisses, twisting around to try and see through the windows. “Of course I heard that, Mike.”

“Do you think that’s–”

“No idea,” Will whispers. With no small amount of reluctance, he tugs his arm out of Mike’s grip. He misses the warmth of it almost instantaneously, and the tugging in his stomach is only amplified by the way Mike automatically leans in behind him, places a hand on his back to replace the absent touch, like it was never gone at all. Will swallows, and flicks the flashlight off. “Now be quiet.”

“The windows are boarded up,” Mike says, decidedly not being quiet. Will wonders where the Mike Wheeler of fifteen minutes ago went – the one that was sulking and fidgeting in silence the whole way down the first aid aisle. “They’re boarded up, so nothing can get in. Right?”

“We got in,” Will points out, which Mike seems to realize at approximately the same second he does. It’s getting a little hard to think, with Mike so close to him.

Will really wishes Mike would pull his hand away.

“Right,” Mike whispers, breath ghosting gently over the back of Will’s neck. “Okay. That’s fine. That’s fine.”

Fine, Will thinks. That’s one word for it.

Another clattering. It’s closer this time.

Will freezes.

Jonathan and Nancy are probably about ten minutes out. Twenty if they had to go back to the Wheelers’ for the other car. So they’d probably be fine if they stuck it out here, because the chance of something happening across them now, in the brief period of time where they’re stuck without a ride, in a building equipped with close to nothing that could help, is small.

Small, but not nonexistent.

Will isn’t really feeling inclined to take that chance. “Come on,” he says, then spins on his heel, grabbing Mike’s hand and tugging him in the opposite direction. “Come with me.”

Mike follows easily, stumbling slightly with the sudden movement. “Wh– where are we going?”

“Just come on,” Will says, then tugs Mike around to the back of the store. He yanks open a door, and shoves him inside. “Get in.”

“Whoa,” Mike says, as Will tumbles in behind him. “Will, what–”

“Would it kill you to be quiet?”

“Sorry,” Mike says, then does, at last, fall silent.

Immediately, Will wishes he hadn’t said that. It’s dark in here – even darker than out in the front of the store – and the only noise is the faint hum of a generator, somewhere behind the walls. It’s grating and stilted. Will wonders when the last time it had been repaired was.

Plus, it’s really–

It’s really fucking dark in here.

Will lets out a long, slow exhale, and reaches out to feel for the wall beside him. His palm comes into contact with chipped paint and he follows the shape of it down, lowering himself onto the ground.

“Will?” Mike says, and Will is in half a mind to say that thing about being quiet again, but–

It’s dark. It’s really dark.

“Yeah,” he says, barely audible even to himself over the faint hum of the generator, and the louder hum – demanding, prominent, persistent – of his blood rushing through his ears. “I just– sitting. I’m sitting.”

There had at least been some light out in the front, but this storage closet might as well be a void. It smells vaguely of dust, something stale and unknown and probably untouched for who-knows-how-long. Will takes another deep breath in.

“Where?” Mike asks. “I don’t want to step on you.”

Will cracks a smile. “Here,” he says, and holds a hand up in the air. “Right here.”

There’s a quiet shuffling sound as Mike moves closer, and then Will feels fingertips brushing against his. Mike latches on immediately, gripping tighter onto his hand and sits down in front of him. 

Will still can’t see anything – he can’t see anything – but he can feel Mike’s presence like it’s a tangible thing.

Mike could let go of Will’s hand now. Now that he’s found him.

He doesn’t, though.

“Hey,” Mike says, then there’s another faint shuffling noise. “Where are we?”

“Storage closet.”

“Huh. How did you know it was here?”

Will cracks another smile, despite himself. “My mom worked here, remember? For, like, years.”

“Right,” Mike laughs, and then he’s moving closer, knees bumping against knees in the dark. “I forgot. It doesn’t feel like the same place.”

“Tell me about it,” Will sighs. He’s probably breathing in dust and debris and soot and all sorts of gross stuff, but he can’t find it in himself to care. He presses his knees against Mike’s a little harder, just because he can.

“I remember,” Mike starts, readjusting his grip on Will’s hand – fingers interlocked, a firmer grip – “she’d give me free candy from the front counter. Whenever I came in with my parents, I mean. My mom was so confused about why I kept asking to tag along to Melvald’s with her.”

“That’s not fair,” Will laughs. “She never let me have any candy.”

“You were a menace all hopped up on sugar,” Mike points out. “I knew how to behave myself.”

That’s a damn lie, and they both know it. “Liar,” Will says quietly, leaning his head back against the wall. “You’re such a liar.”

“Maybe so,” Mike hums. “But I’m still the one who got free candy, so–”

“Mike!” Will shoves lightly at his knee, and Mike’s answering laugh fills the small space instantaneously. It’s loud – too loud, because they’re supposed to be hiding, goddamnit – but the nagging little voice at the back of Will’s head is vanquished almost as quickly as it came. “Shut up.”

Mike, as always, ignores him. “Why don’t we turn on a light?”

“The fuse is probably blown,” Will responds. “If there’s even a light in this stupid closet.”

“I mean this, idiot,” Mike says, and then clicks the flashlight back on. The batteries must be dying, because it flickers to life weakly, steadying out into a dim yellow-white. “Obviously.”

“Don’t waste the batteries,” Will says at once, trying to grab for it. “Come on, Mike–”

“Jonathan and Nancy will be here any minute and then we can go put in new batteries,” Mike says, holding it easily out of reach. “No point sitting in the dark, right?”

“Mike,” Will tries to protest, but it’s useless. Mike’s made up his mind.

Slowly, and a little far away, Will realizes what Mike is trying to do. He’s not being subtle about it, but subtlety has never been Mike Wheeler’s strong suit. He’s always been exuberant, quick and spontaneous with his actions, and this is no different. Sitting up close, closer than would be strictly necessary in any other situation. Turning the light on, despite the dying batteries. Telling Will about coming here as a kid, all those years ago. Making him laugh. Diffusing the tension.

Jesus, and he’s still holding Will’s hand.

A wave of affection washes over him, sudden and overwhelming enough for Will to feel borderline nauseous.

This isn’t fair. This isn’t fair. Mike can’t just sit here and touch their knees together and hold Will’s hand, and–

“Look,” Mike is saying, and then he’s holding the flashlight under his chin and grinning. “Don’t I look freaky?”

In all honesty, Mike looks fucking hilarious. The direct light casts long shadows across the dips of his cheekbones, the shapes of his eyelashes distorting wildly as he blinks. “No,” Will snorts, rolling his eyes. “You look ridiculous.”

“Really?” Mike grins, in a way that means he knows just how ridiculous he looks. “Not even a little?” He waggles his eyebrows, and the resulting effect is so comical that Will can’t help the laugh that bursts out of him, sharp and sudden and real.

“Mike,” he chides, for the millionth time. “You’re going to kill the battery.”

Mike looks way too pleased with himself. “Worth it,” he says anyway, as he sets the flashlight down. It evens out the sharp angles of his face, now that it’s farther away, lights his cheeks and nose and eyes up into something softer, more open.

Something about the steadiness of Mike’s expression is brighter than any source of light. Suddenly, it’s too much. Suddenly, it’s blinding. 

God. He’s so screwed.  “For what?”

“Getting you to laugh,” Mike says, simple and easy, like he’s reciting times tables instead of proceeding to turn Will’s entire world upside down on its pathetic little axis.

Will feels his lungs stutter on his next inhale. He looks away. “Don’t do that.”

The gleeful expression falters on Mike’s face. “Don’t do what?”

“Don’t,” Will says, “don’t– you’re being so– so–”

Mike looks caught somewhere between confusion and amusement. “So what?”

“So,” Will tries again, and then Mike moves closer, and the difficulty of articulating a halfway decent sentence immediately increases tenfold. “So.”

“So,” Mike echoes, shifting so the side of his thigh is pressed up against the side of Will’s. He’s being slowly backed into the corner, but the thought isn’t terrifying like it might have been five minutes ago. Suddenly, Will is overwhelmed in a completely new way. “So what?”

“Nice to me,” Will gets out. “Stop being so nice to me.”

Mike pauses, then says, incredulously and half-laughing– “What? Why?”

Bad choice of words. “You heard me,” Will says anyway, because he’s nothing if not stubborn. “You’re being too nice.”

“I should hope so,” Mike says. “I mean, you’re my friend.”

Maybe Will is imagining it, but the sentence feels unfinished. Like there’s a second half to it that Mike is keeping for himself: You’re my friend – right?

The obvious answer here is that yes, Mike is his friend. But that answer feels unfinished too, like a lie by omission. Will tries to imagine it, doing these things with anyone else – what it would be like if Dustin was holding his hand, or if it were Lucas sitting next to him this close.

The conclusion he comes to, almost immediately, is that it would be weird.

It would be really fucking weird.

That feels like– something. An admission, maybe. Because the fact of the matter is that things with Mike have always been like this, and they’ve never been like this with anyone else, and Will doesn’t think they can be like this with anyone else without it being the most unsettling thing that’s ever happened to him.

The silence, he realizes, has gone on just a second too long.

“Yeah,” he blurts out at last. “Yeah. Obviously.”

Something settles over Mike’s face. “Will–”

“Forget I said anything,” Will backpedals, a little bit desperate. “Never mind. Be as nice to me as you want.”

Mike bites down on his lower lip. It looks like he’s holding back a smile. “As nice as I want?”

Oh, no.

“Sure,” Will tries. “Do your worst.”

Mike lets out a shaky exhale. He presses in further, leans in closer until their shoulders are almost touching. “How about this?”

“That’s not nice,” Will says weakly. “That’s just an invasion of personal space.”

“Seems pretty nice to me,” Mike mutters under his breath.

Will inhales sharply. “Mike.”

“What?”

“What are you– doing,” Will whispers, stumbling over his words, just slightly, as Mike places a hand on his arm.

Mike’s gaze does not waver. “Is this okay?”

Is it okay? Will thinks his brain might be halfway to leaking out through his ears. This is–

This is–

“Yeah,” he hears himself say. “Yeah. Great.”

“Okay,” Mike whispers. He’s so close now that Will could count all the freckles spattered across his nose, if he wanted to. He could, and the thought is dizzying, dizzying – suddenly, it’s not the claustrophobia that’s making him feel like this. It can’t be, because Mike is in front of him, and he’s so close that Will could just lean forward and–

He could just–

“Mike.” And maybe he’s a bit of a broken record, but he can’t come up with any words other than his name. He clutches at Mike’s knee and meets his gaze and prays – to whatever deity allowed him to get trapped in a storage closet with Mike Wheeler two inches away from his face – that Mike Wheeler will find the courage in him somewhere to close the fucking gap.

He doesn’t, though, which is a sign that the universe must be majorly fucking with him. Not yet, anyway. Not anywhere near as fast as Will needs it to be – if this is what he thinks it is, it’s nowhere near fast enough.

In actuality, what it is is excruciating – the way Will’s heart is beating so loud that he’s sure Mike can hear it, in the proximity. The slow circles Mike is tracing over his other hand – the hand that he’s still holding. He’s so close that Will can discern the warmth emanating off him, the familiar scent of soap, can feel Mike’s eyes trained steadily on his mouth, and yet–

Either Mike is actually moving at a speed of one nanosecond per minute, or time has slowed to a near-stop around them. Mike’s grip on his hand is agonizing, caustic in all the places where they’re touching, each slow circle of Mike’s thumb against his wrist driving him slowly and steadily out of his mind. Do it, Will thinks, like maybe if he thinks it loud enough, Mike will be able to hear him. Do it, do it, do it.

Mike’s lips touch his.

The world stops moving.

It must, anyway. Or maybe it’s just that Will doesn’t think he’s breathing anymore – he doesn’t know if he can find it in him to remember how. All he’s aware of is this: Mike’s hands on his arm, his wrist. Mike’s leg under his own palm, warm and steady and pressed up against him in a smooth, unyielding line. The pressure of the wall behind him, the strands of Mike’s hair brushing against his face, and Mike’s lips – gentle, gentle, gentle, and nowhere near enough.

It’s like Mike is waiting for something. Waiting for Will, maybe.

God, okay.

Fuck it, Will thinks, from somewhere far off in his own head. Fuck it. Fuck this. 

“Will,” Mike whispers, pulling back a precious few millimeters, and that’s it. That’s all Will can take.

Will lifts his hand off Mike’s leg, raises it to his wrist and tugs. Mike topples into him with a small gasp, Will falls backwards into the wall, and then they’re kissing.

God. Okay.

Mike steadies himself quickly, braces a hand on the wall behind them and leans in, firm and enthusiastic. His hand, Will notices, faintly and with no small amount of affection, is shaking. Just slightly. Will’s trapped between them again – Mike and the wall – but this time he can’t find it in himself to care even the slightest bit. As if there’s anywhere he’d want to go that wasn’t here, as if he’d want to be somewhere without Mike’s hand carding through his hair, or without his lips moving softly against Will’s own, or the noise he makes when Will presses forward, too fast, too eager, too betrayed by his own fluttering pulse – something like a laugh, trapped deep in his chest.

Suddenly, it’s not enough. It’s not enough. It’s–

“Mike? Will?”

Shit.

In a flash, Mike pulls away, wide-eyed and pink-cheeked and breathing like he’s just run a marathon.

Shit.

“Yeah,” Mike calls, voice cracking just slightly on the syllable. “We’re in here!”

Shit.

“So,” Will says, aiming for nonchalance. He fails immediately. His voice cracks too. Great. “That–”

Don’t freak out, he thinks. Please don’t freak out.

Mike, to his credit, is not freaking out.

“Yeah,” Mike says, voice a little high-pitched but surprisingly even. He clears his throat. “Um. Yeah. You were–”

“Yeah,” Will finishes, rather lamely. He’s grinning like an idiot. He doesn’t even need to look at himself to tell. His expression is mirrored, perfectly, flawlessly, brilliantly, on Mike’s own face.

The closet door gets thrown open, and there’s a blinding, sudden light– “What the fuck,” Mike exclaims, squinting and throwing a hand up in front of his eyes. “Nancy?”

Jonathan peers around her shoulder. “What were you guys doing in here?”

Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t–

Will can’t help it. He looks at Mike, and they immediately burst into laughter.

Shit.

#hiiii quin so sorry but tumblr ate ur og ask #i did immediately memorize it tho bc i read it and i was like Oh Yes #anyways ik u asked for maybe s5 too #and idk why this is where my mind went #there are a million other s5 scenarios that i could've written #but something about byler kissing in dark closets.... haha #yeah <3 #anyways i hope u like this !! #byler #mike wheeler #will byers #fun sized fics #also fun fact for anyone who reads my fics #this was rly close to my og concept for ive come home im so cold #like the third chapter #but that story got away from me so #this isn't the Same but its similar !! kind of. #ok bye

[razormain]

quickly scribbled smth for a fic i wrote :) everyone read it its about romance positive aroace argenti

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr argenti #argenti #argenti hsr #boothill #hsr boothill #boothill hsr #argenthill #clai's art #ignore that the fic is anon but i'm posting abt it openly i got nervous abt putting it under my a03 acc for literally no reason BJDBFHFB #maybe one day i'll unanon it and the other hsr fic i have up there so its all under my name properly #anyway. very special fic to me bc i basically just took all my own experiences and slapped it directly onto argenti #really happy that people commented saying it helped them understand the whole concept of being romance pos aroace :') #thats almost entirely why i wrote the fic i wanted this scenario out there

[mamawasatesttube]

saw someone being wrong about kon on the internet again (i know. shocking) and you are all so lucky i'm sick and feverish and lazy because i DID just seriously entertain the thought of writing up a small essay complete with issue and panel citations about why it's simply incorrect to say that kon never really seemed to reciprocate any sort of crush on tim before geoff/tt03. this is just not true. you dont have to actually ship them but to downplay their importance to each other even in the earliest days is simply incorrect. i'm too tired and achy to bother digging through comics to pull up all the issues that have the bits i want to point at but like... they were both very mutually important to each other from early on. it was in no way shape or form one-sided, whether you want to read that as platonic or romantic. man.

#rimi talks #id rather put my limited energy towards the tender t4t timkonisms fic but in my heart this is a longass post #kon's sb94 alice in wonderland nightmare sequence. kon's entire Everything @ tim in issue 85. #the entire concept of robin kon?????? hello????? #the way they function as a unit so easily in yj98 even While actively bickering??? #graduation day and judd winick explicitly saying he wanted them to come out of the closet [together]?? #kon going out of his way to not only do bits just to annoy tim but also being protective of him at the same time?? (in yj98 again) #him wanting robin's number in wf3 (and then getting it sometime before rex leech roller coaster issue)?????? #what are you fucking onnnnnnnnn #you dont have to read it as romantic if you dont want to but they were undeniably close and it was undeniably mutual. bro #i just um. i just think that if youre so internet poisoned to hate a ship that you have to deny the characters have mutual importance #to each other in the canon material (but you can't deny it from one side so you have to claim it's mostly one-sided and blame a writer) #then maybe you should um log off and reread canon ? #<- that's petty sorry but im just saying. #anyways. #returning to the timkon mines now. crawls back into my word doc

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

It had started because some people had misheard something Phantom said. One singular letter was responsible for the mess he was in right now.

They thought Phantom had said "Dad"

He had not, not this time at least, he was, admittedly, rather prone to accidentally calling Jack "Dad" because the man actually was. Though those moments were nothing compared to this.

It had spread like wildfire throughout the school, and then the city as a whole. Phantom had a dad, a dad who was visiting next week. That's what they knew, and theories and questions were already abound. Was Phantom's dad alive? Or dead too? What was their relationship like? Was this mysterious dad Phantom's blood (ectoplasm?) father? Or was Phantom adopted? How similar were they?

Dan just laughed at Danny over the phone when he tried explaining the situation to his older self before he came by to visit.

#danny phantom #i was going to make a proper fic but um. i couldn't choose a direction to go in with it. so heres just me writing down the concept ndksnsks #i just think Dan pretending to be Danny Phantom's dad would be really funny #obv they look similar. maybe people'll assume the DP logo is some sort of family symbol lol #honestly this could work post or pre agit. though the bit here is written as post #pretending not even necessary people could just assume. the “family drama” thatd ensue from a pre agit Dan who is Very Much trying to kill #would be very fun i think #and he'd most certainly play along if he was aware of the assumption #anyway daisybell stop making dp posts at midnight am to inevitably wake up and hate how they're worded challenge impossible

[sailing-through-hawkins]

thinking about trapeze artist duo Robin and Steve

at first revered for their practically telepathic connection, they're now known for their daring defiance of gravity and perfect synchrony

Eddie and Chrissy get front row seats and watch the pair of them fly through the air in jaw-dropped awe

at the end of the act, Chrissy takes a chance to throw a rose at them which Steve manages to catch and then give to Robin with a smug whisper

Chrissy then has to hold herself back from screaming when Robin takes the rose and hooks it behind her ear, all the while keeping giddy eye contact with Chrissy

meanwhile Eddie is biting a lock of his own hair when Steve grins at him after giving the rose, managing to toss a rose of his own that Steve ALSO catches and puts behind his own ear with a wink

needless to say, they're definitely coming back for the next show

#stranger things #fic idea #buckingham #steddie #au content #concepts #sailor✧scribbles #the dingus job archives #in terms of the act name I'm thinking maybe something to do with a phoenix #like yknow the idea of birds and fire and constantly living through death #it fits them together i think #something like the phoenix pair? #the flamebirds? #the embirds? okay that's a smooth pun actually #anyways love the idea of dustin as a tech guy but not sure about everyone else's roles

[omaano]

Instead of leaving a comment on a fic like a decent human being, I decided that it was a good idea to set myself up for an art project that is 50% landscape and fabric and colours I rarely-if-ever get to use oops X"D

On an unrelated note, did you know that @brightmouth 's Lessons in Idle Ecstasies is fucking great?? (All her writing is, really, I just have so much reading I need to catch up on, I've been too busy trying to figure out how to paint rocks and mountains and things I thought I knew how to paint ^^; )

#dincobb #cobb vanth #wip #marshmando #din x cobb #my art #landscape #I was thinking about posting this in the first place because well it's not much yet #like 1/4 of the whole thing if I can still count and my concept sketches are to be trusted but I'm so excited about this okay?? #this is all very new territory for me as an artist #and I picked a small scene but I LOVE dream sequences and it was RED okay? I have a thing for that #plus i didn't know if I don't share it now when would I because I have zero idea still about the panel that brings Din in #and I'm pulling the biggest blank there I ever had so.... WIP for now #I always do this decide to make some fanart before I leave a comment on my fave fics and then maybe deliver?? #ahem anyway I hope it's okay #I'm very very excited about this project I just really need to pull through #these are pics 2-4-5 I think in the current lineup #out of 12+1 but goddamnit Cobb is fighting me big time #the mandalorian #star wars #the mandalorian fanart #lessons in idle ecstasies

[aslyran]

“I’m not going anywhere”

#this was borne out of me thinking about #kdj having a strange pull towards stargazing #and having to reassure yjh often that he’s not in the rooftop to kill himself #somewhat annoyed #but then he is forced to understand that he is actually still passibly suicidal #maybe he will catch himself this time. if he looses his balance #but between letting his companions know parts od f himself he doesn’t know or doesnt like and dying #hed choose death #its not even hyperbole #im so soft for kdj recovery fics in which he sucks #and this sucks #and he cant grasp the concept that this is the best thing for his comoanions #and hes just having a hard time w everything bc he cant burst through his issues with competence and usefulness anymore #anyways #orv omniscient reader's view point #orv #omniscient reader novel #omniscient reader's viewpoint #orv fanart #orv kdj #kim dokja #fanart #kdj fanart #yoo jonghyuk

[defeateddetectives]

*cha cha chas into ur inbox* soooooo what is ur horrible exorcists arranged marriage headcanon AU friend!!! INQUIRING MINDS (ME) WISH TO KNOW!!! :))))

i need to preface this with: i thought about this and thought about this and it is not necessarily a happy story!!!

it would likely be an AU where the sight in the natori clan hadn't completely died out like it had in canon and they were in a much more panicked and precarious state and trying to form a desperate alliance as a last ditch attempt of keeping the name afloat even if only symbolically

shuuichi would be begrudging and prickly about the arrangement the whole time but go along with it to ~save the clan~ in whatever shape or form because he's one of the few stronger ones left with the sight and the de facto heir and ultimately feels responsible

the alliance may have been presented initially as an alternative to total clan subsummation wherein the natori clan gets protection as well but it does...inevitably...lead to...more or less total clan subsummation because who are we kidding??? all parties sort of knew this was gonna happen at the outset anyway what with how the matobas roll. exploiting yet another dying clan? is anyone surprised!!!?

and lbr shuuichi and his clan don't really have a leg to stand on which leads to a whole other brand of angst and interclan drama which also gets mirrored in their relationship for bonus fun anguish points :D

i do think it would be more punchy and impactful if they were a bit younger at the time of this marriage...like 19/20ish? something about them being less polished and savvy and settled into their identities and more easily swayed by the forces around them! seiji is also still the heir rather than clan head at the time!

seiji still held some softness for shuuichi prior to all this and was semi-pining for years but cant really focus on that so much anymore once the arrangement goes ahead and he tries to soften the blow of everything as much as he can (which isn't a lot early on and in his current position)

meanwhile shuuichi may have once had some semblance of softness for seiji mixed with insecurity and a thousand other complicated feelings à la canon but now he's far too busy being outraged and devastated in equal parts to feel anything else. like i said. NOT necessarily a happy story!!!!!!

there's a version where maybe, over time, they could approach some common ground but honestly even if they managed to mutually care for/grow into some semblance of functional partnership and "love" for each other, shuuichi very much would fight the loss of his identity as a natori tooth and nail (and grieve and mourn) and it would definitely colour and periodically sour their entire relationship if not overtly then definitely covertly

and the thing is: if it was anyone else, seiji would be able to nicely compartmentalize and barrel on through but because it's this specific person that he's quietly adored since they were kids, it crushes him as well to see shuuichi so stifled and that fire of his (one of the things that had charmed seiji about him early one!!!) nearly burned out

some time passes and the current matoba head dies and seiji takes the mantle. superficially and politically, they end up presenting a united front and rock the power couple aesthetic for a few years but DEEP DOWN THEY ARE CRUMBLING!!! they go days without speaking to each other behind closed doors unless necessary and it becomes more of a hollow, weary, performance than anything that they get good at doing on autopilot

eventually it comes to a breaking point and, hilariously, maybe the arranged marriage divorce--not a decision made lightly--winds up being the great point of catharsis (and the biggest romantic gesture on seiji's part)--ACTUALLY WAIT I'VE CONNECTED THE DOTS!!! I'VE CONNECTED THEM!!!

THEIR LOVE STORY WOULD IN FACT TAKE-OFF AFTER THEY ENDED THE MARRIAGE AND COULD FINALLY FEEL LIKE THEY WERE ON SOMETHING OF EQUAL FOOTING because that would be so important for shuuichi and also for seiji to let shuuichi have that agency and choose him on his own terms rather than because he was Supposed To

seiji offers shuuichi/the natori clan matoba clan's protection anywayyy because he can (to the matoba elders who aren't about it, he goes: shhh it's alimony!) and yes, i'm probably handwaving exorcist divorce law--which i now want to study for fun--and i know he can't just make these decisions unilaterally but, on a level, this would also be a story about seiji growing into his own power and identity as clan head and getting creative with loopholes that let him meet his own ends

so the end is the beginning is the end and shuuichi does wind up back at square one with a dying clan at the end of the day and hated by his family for being ~selfish and burning that bridge in their eyes

but the two of them also get a proper shot now at Being In Love in some shape or form ON PURPOSE!!!!!

once more with feeling: this is not (necessarily) a happy story!!!!!! not in every way anyway!!!!!!!

bonus epilogue: natori shuuichi shows up at the next matobacorp board meeting with a board seat to his name and half the company shares that he was gifted in the divorce <3 love is real etc etc. [muffled sounds of the succession opening theme playing in the distance] they go on a cute little coffee date after.

#lmao i feel like i uh defeated the concept of an arranged marriage au with this somehow #but it's become so hard for me to extricate shuuichi's identity as a natori from his character in any kind of story that does him justice #in a canon-adjacent setting currently anyway though maybe ms. midorikawa will surprise us in 20 more years #with a canon exorcists weddi--[gunshot] #horrible exorcists #natsume problems #fic or something #decidedly in the 'or something' class #AU where i had more energy/coherence and this could've been a whole fic with all the sexy clan politicking that my heart desires but alas #(but suddenly i wanna know all about exorcist clan marriage legalities!!! are there exorcist prenups??? with clan techniques embedded???) #replies #qserasera

[frankiebirds]

the day i stop thinking about the ending of s02e11 sex, birth, death is the day i die.

like. reid coming extremely close to needing to be dragged away from nathan?

both garcia and reid's expressions here? reid, who cares for and identifies with nathan, garcia, who has (i believe) never seen a dead body* in person? (also, you can't see it here because it's a still image, but reid's breath is hitching here and he looks close to hyperventilating)

*i know nathan is not dead here, nor does he die at all—the point im making is that having never seen a dead body in person before would make you more unprepared for seeing the aftermath of an unsuccessful suicide attempt than someone who has

reid makes no movement to clean the blood off his hands until gideon is right in front of him. he just stands there and stares like hes dissociating until gideon comes up and, in my opinion, sort of startles him into acting.

and gideon putting an arm around reid and taking him away from the scene while morgan does the same to garcia. hhhh.

this is the most emotional we see reid get up to this point. he's yelling while he's trying to keep nathan arrive, enough to strain his voice. i dont think hes so much as raised his voice at all up to this point.

i wonder how long he washed his hands for before he deemed himself "clean".

#ive also always headcanoned that diana attempted suicide at some point #so in my head there are some lovely lovely flashbacks after this too #not sure why im leaving that in the tags. maybe because its a reading based off headcanon and not a reading of canon? #anyway #god the ending of this episode destroys me #im glad it ends with hope #with nathan living #ive seen a lot of fics about nathan coming back as an unsub #and im not saying those fics are bad AT ALL #ive read a lot of them #its an interesting and plausible concept #but i like to believe that nathan goes on to lead a relatively normal life. maybe reaches out to reid again sometime in his adult years #to thank him for not letting him die all those years ago like he'd begged him to #spencer reid #not fic #criminal minds #criminal minds rewatch #criminal minds s02e11 #sex birth death #scene analysis #tw blood #tw self harm #tw suicide #favourites

[phoenixcatch7]

Au where sqq was a popular/famous vr graphic designer specialising in avatars and animations and 3d modelling, and sqh worked on the side/before pidw as a grey hat hacker, and together they take the system apart and add all sorts of mods and features. Cat ears. Sci fi effects. Playing games on the system. Sqq manages to screw with something important and gets access to vr chat style dream realm, where poor mm is extremely surprised to have sections blocked off without an invite.

#Sqq and sqh entering a competition to see who can get the system to run doom first. Their crowning achievement #The pinnacle of impossible ports #Sqh wins and sqq has to design mbj a maid cat costume because he lost the bet #He hates it the whole time and steals the design for lbh #Everyone in the vicinity of cq: *wakes up with cat ears* #Sqq (totally not the culprit): *patting lbhs ears* wow I can't believe it what happened. Maybe Shidi brought back an artifact from his trip #Anyway I'm going to be VERY BUSY for the next few hours. Figuring out what happened #svsss #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #svsss au #shang qinghua #bingqiu #moshang #Vr as a concept is GREATLY underutilised in fics and I strive to fix that

[theminecraftbee]

Pearl wakes up. She blinks a few times to get the sleep out of her eyes. She swings her legs over the side of the bed and stretches her arms and goes to look out the window over her alien cliffsides. It is morning on a Tuesday. She is well. She checks under her fingernails for the blood from where she’d been scratching herself earlier and finds nothing.

It must have just been a dream, she thinks, realizing she isn’t scratched anywhere. She checks several times. She remembers it, though. Scratching herself. Feeling cold. She still feels cold, actually, and she’s not in a cold biome, not Gem on her mountaintop covered in snow. If anything, it should be temperate here, and yet…

She stops herself from scratching at her arms and frowns. She doesn’t know when she picked up that habit. She goes to take a long shower, and she makes it scalding hot, and she scrubs at her skin for what feels like an hour and doesn’t feel particularly clean or human at the end of it, just achingly lonely, even though her neighbors are at most a short ways away.

She feels lonely and cold and dirty and like she’s not quite human—no, that’s not fair, but it’s how she feels, the kind of dirtysadtireddull that makes a person feel like scrubbing their skin raw and—

She turns off the shower. She gets out. She gets dressed, and she doesn’t wear any red, which feels notable, for some reason. She considers going to talk to Impulse, but that makes her feel more like scratching again, so she doesn’t. She takes a deep breath. She calls Gem. Gem, she thinks, will know what to do, or will lie and pretend to know what to do because Gem lies like breathing, and she also doesn’t make Pearl feel like there’s blood under her nails.

Gem responds. Pearl packs a shulker and goes to go help her mine sandstone. When Gem starts talking, Pearl feels better. She must have had a nightmare, she decides. There’s no reason for her to feel like this. There’s no reason. And as the day goes on, she doesn’t anymore.

She’s not lonely. She hasn’t been lonely in a long, long time. The empty beating of something that is missing doesn’t make sense.

For the third time in a row, she dreads going to sleep. She’s tired of waking up like this and not knowing why. She is.

#a bee fic #pearlescentmoon #hermitcraft #double life smp #hc x dlsmp #is that the correct crossover tag those ones confuse me #anyway concept: you don’t remember what happens until the end #only maybe a part of you does. #anyway here’s a pearl bit sorry it’s sad #anyway this is all dull short sentences for a reason and that reason is capturing the detached depressive mood pearl wakes up in #so if it’s less flowery than I usually am. yeah on purpose

[daddyplasmius]

i love taking the ghosts out of Danny Phantom. like obviously the ghosts are great but also you can replace them with literally anything & it still works perfectly. Danny got bitten by a werewolf. Danny got bitten by a vampire. Danny was cursed to be a selkie or merperson or dragon. Danny can use forbidden magic. Danny's a demon with a human soul. Danny's gay. & he can't tell his parents because of their views. it doesn't even matter you can put that guy in situations completely unrelated to the original concept & it's still exactly the same because it envelopes the entire idea of "my parents hate what I am" that so many of us have personal experience with & i think it's beautiful to have a show that so easily lets us scream into the void & imagine our favourite little guy also surviving what we did/are

#sorry for making it serious i just love this series so much you cannot possibly understand. or maybe you can #Danny Phantom #i desperately need to finish Black Dog. i want the wolf girlies to have a multi-chapter werewolf au fic so bad #might change the name though cuz i'm working on an original concept based on that fic lol #anyways i love all the ''no ghost'' AUs out there so much. please make more of them fic writers i am begging

[stellaluna33]

Despite its ubiquity in fanfiction, I actually don't think I've ever really had the desire to wear my lover's clothes.

#I don't know if I'm weird or if this is just overrepresented in fiction haha #Maybe it would be different if he was absent? #Like... I wear sweaters and hats from my grandparents- so it's not like I don't understand the concept #But anyway #It's just that it's always happening in fics and I'm always like 'Do people actually do that? Is that a thing most people do?'