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#writing on hold
pixiemage · 7 months
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Please, for the love of god, please don’t be this person. No matter how long it’s been since an update, no matter how many unfinished stories are sitting on their account, no matter what - do not be this person.
Not only is it insanely rude, but you also do more damage than you think be being such a self-entitled ass about something someone created for free and for fun. “This author” can see what you say.
RIP decency indeed.
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noperopesaredope · 6 months
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I wish we had more female characters like Eleanor Shellstrop. One of the most unlikable people you've ever met. Read a Buzzfeed article on most rude things you can do on a daily basis and decided to use that as a list of goals. Makes everyone's day worse just by being there. Dropped a margarita mix on the ground and tried to pick it up, only to get hit by a row of shopping carts which pushed her into the road where she was hit by a boner pill delivery truck, killing her instantly. Cannot keep a romantic partner despite being bisexual. Had a terrible childhood but will die before she gets therapy. Best employee at a scam company. Just the worst but also can't help but root for her to improve.
Absolute loser. Girl-failure. Bad at almost everything. Literally perfect female character.
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aslyran · 4 months
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Visions
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thetruecthulhu9 · 7 months
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Hey anyone want to be crushed by the reality that in stopping the unknowing Jon became unknown to everything around him. He stops being Jon and becomes The Archivist and the only person who acknowledges that there's anything left of the person he was is Martin.
Nikola failed a doomed ritual but it still made the Archivist a Stranger
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gojoed · 7 months
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"oh my god satoru you look so cute here!"
"wait wait wait, don't look at those!"
you were currently holding a picture of satoru in your hands. it's nothing you haven't done before, going to the corner store and flipping through recently printed pictures of you and your friends after waiting a week for them to develop.
but this time you weren't holding snapshots of suguru having permanent marker on his face while sleeping or ridiculous photos of satoru and shoko grabbing onto each others hair, fighting over who gets to get the last snack from their stash. this time you held a photo of satoru, except younger. exponentially younger. as in, you just got your hands on a photo of satoru the moment he was born. literally.
like every other newborn he had that faint pink shade on his soft skin, button nose, and little hands that had the chubbiest of fingers. you swore you fell in love all over again with him.
the grown up version of the baby however did not feel the same. he didn't think a visit to his family's prestigious estate would lead to you seeing the one photo he would rather die than having any one of his friends see. he'd rather have you take a photo of him falling flat on his face on a pile of garbage actually.
how you came across that photo of him, he has no idea. you both were currently residing in his old bedroom, laid down on the old tatami mats that still smelled new. all he remembers is you getting up to look for something within the old cabinets of his room before you exclaimed about your recent discovery.
"oh there's more, lemme see."
"nononononono, no! you've already seen enough!"
satoru tried desperately to snatch the small box of photos that was now on the floor. seriously who put this here?? — maybe his mother heard of how he was bringing you along for the weekend and planted a little surprise for you to find. he was unsuccessful, again, as you seemed to be faster than the strongest now since the box was now sitting on your lap — the stack of photos now in your hands as you flipped through them one by one.
"you used to wear such cute things too! look at that, it's a little onesie with a duck pattern!"
satoru was now internally screaming, his ears blowing out steam now from embarrassment. they must be, since he could feel his face rise in temperature faster than ever, he might even be a new shade of scarlet now. he's resorted now to lying face first on the floor, burying his face in his arms trying to shield himself from your commentary.
he didn't budge when you poked him with your fingers, trying to show him photos of his even younger self. satoru won't deny it, he was cute as a baby. the cutest even (his ego was whispering that) — but to have you witness him in all his newborn glory? that was too much for him. now his image was shattered (the one he created in his head), you won't look at him the same anymore. you'll only think the words cute and adorable, and so on after this. no more comments on how hot he was, how undeniably attractive his smile was.
satoru gojo, was indefinitely, ruined.
that was at least his way of thinking. you were internally dying on the inside.
to think that at such a young age, satoru still held the most striking pair of eyes you've ever seen. even as a baby you could see that he held the heavens and even the depths of hell in them. you can see why many people whispered how his birth had changed everything in the jujutsu world.
but even so, you couldn't bring yourself to care about those old rumors. right now, you were focusing on just how cute he used to look, back when he was just a couple of pounds and was drowning in innocence that any baby had.
"hey satoru?"
"..mm?", well at least you got a reaction.
"who took these photos anyway?"
you had to wait a few seconds until you heard him shuffle, moving on all fours before sitting up and placing himself right next to you. the embarrassment had died down, just a bit. there was still evident pink on his neck, ears, and cheeks.
"it was mostly just my mom and the maids. they were the ones who always dressed me up too."
that made you smile, the image of a fussy satoru not wanting to put baby gloves on with a matching outfit — it was too good not to imagine. a few moments passed before satoru carefully snatched a handful of photos from you. you were about to protest when he began telling you the story behind each of them, or well, the ones he could remember.
maybe you seeing him like that wasn't so bad after all.
p.s., now he's totally gonna send some of these to the group chat. bet he was a cuter looking baby than suguru and shoko anyway.
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0fflimits · 21 days
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heres some fluff comfort kinito n player doodles thing,,,,
sorry for multiplle posts in a short amount of time i kinda have quite a bit of kinito art i didn’t get to post 🚶
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jelluf1sh · 1 month
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taking a nap with suguru. soft blankets and softer words, sweet nothings mumbled into his ear after he’s had a hard day. his silky black hair brushed from his face by your gentle, loving hands, tossed over his shoulder lightly so it doesn’t catch on any of his earrings while he snoozes. “i’m so proud of you” while he rests, his thick lashes closed against his cheeks, and a smile curled into his lips. he covers the expanse of your neck with soft, deliberately-placed kisses, mumbling a “thank you” or a “love you” in between each press of his lips, and you can feel the cold metal of the rings with each warm kiss. his large hands which massage your back whilst his head lays on your chest — he wanted to be held today, be a little selfish with you. the light of the evening sun, setting just outside the window, washing across the two of you, turning suguru’s skin akin to something of melted caramel, and his hair, silken dark chocolate. kissing his forehead and talking about nothing and everything all at once. reassurance. vulnerability. comfort. safety. love. and contentment on his behalf, as he trusted you with everything he was and everything he felt underneath a single fur blanket. watching him fight sleep, yawning over and over again, his nose crinkling and his eyes pricking with tears at the intensity of his tiredness, until the sandman takes hold of him, and with one final kiss to his forehead — so graciously granted by his lover after moving his bangs out of the way— suguru can doze off happy, knowing he will always wake up to you.
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yjcorefourenjoyer · 4 months
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I know the beginning of the story, I know the end of it.
BUT THE MIDDLE
OMG WHY DOES THE MIDDLE HAVE TO BE SO SO HARD TO WRITE!?!!??!?!!?!?!?
-a writer
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ironunderstands · 16 days
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The way some of yall mischaracterize Ratio as being stoic in chill when in reality he is 24/7 resisting the urge to rip everyone around him a new one is crazy to me like. He cares so much, so much. It’s unhealthy, he loses the idgaf war every time because Ratio is the least nonchalant person ever like
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He was this close to breaking character and throttling Sunday like you cannot tell me he wasn’t planning a murder in this scene. Ratio straight up calls Sunday a crazy bitch but everyone brushed it aside 😭
Honestly his entire conversation with Screwllum is just him tweaking, watch it on YouTube the VAs performance is amazing, you can here just how much He Cares
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Genuinely, Aventurine is way better at concealing his true feelings that Ratio. Ratio may be acting for the sake of the plan but the way he truly feels about anything he’s doing always seeps through, it’s why he apologizes to Aventurine in 2.0 in their staged argument scene. It’s why he is as mean to Sunday as he can be. It’s why him pretending that he “hates” Aventurine makes him act so silly. Ratio can’t fully commit to the bit, he can’t force himself to not care or to be someone he isn’t, because fundamentally Ratio CARES and that is something he is incapable of hiding, alabaster bust or not.
The problem is that him expressing his care is often done in a rude and/or blunt manner which people tend to interpret as stoicism or apathy when it’s anything but. Ratio’s vial that he gives to Aventurine is short, sweet and gets straight to the point, because that’s the easiest way for Ratio to express his emotions, even if it’s often detrimental for him and anyone else around him. However Aventurine understands him quite well, and knows that although brief, Ratio telling him to “stay alive, survive this and keep on living” is how he truly feels towards Aventurine, and that’s enough to keep him going.
Underneath Ratios carefully crafted marble facade is a man who cares so much and is so bad at expressing it and I wish the community in general, especially Aventio shippers would acknowledge that more. Ratios true moments of sincerity are brief, but they are anything but stoic. Let the man be soft, it’s in character.
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thepromptswhisperer · 2 months
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"Hold my hand." Prompts
Reach for the other’s hand. “Let me hold that for you.” 
Wear gloves to hide their hideous hands and only take them off if they truly trust the other and want to feel their warmth/skin.
See that the other’s hand trembles and reach out to hold it.
“You look like someone who wants to hold my hand.”
Platonic handholding that… doesn’t feel completely platonic.
“I guess we have to hold onto each other for this part.” “…” “Believe me, I don’t like it any more than you do.”
“I’m right here.”
Hands brushing against one another until fingers intertwine.
Secret hand holding (e.g. underneath the table).
“Do you want to hold my hand?”
Swinging the arm while holding hands.
Refusing to part with the other, holding their hand for as long as they can.
“Sorry. They are a bit sweaty/cold/etc.”
Recognize the other by how their hand feels in theirs.
Doing stuff while still holding the hand of the other is difficult, yet, as it turns out, not impossible.
“Awww. Do you need me to hold your hand?” “Shut up.”
See partner/crush/etc. hold hands with someone (else).
“Let me warm them for you.”
Grabbing someone’s hand as they move away.
Always hoped the other would initiate body contact. Yet when they finally do, it’s rather… unsatisfying.
“Hold my hand.” “?” “Just do it. (…Please?)”
A quick squeeze of the hand before they pull away.
Want to hold the other’s hand for comfort but restrain themself because they are aware that the other doesn’t like PDA.
Move through the crowd while holding hands so as to not lose one another – and not letting go afterwards.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have.” “No, it’s fine. I… liked it.”
Turning a kiss on the back of the hand/cleaning the other’s fingers/admiring their nail polish/etc. into handholding in a single fluid movement that momentarily stops the heart.
Subconsciously reach out to the other (, only to pull the hand back at the last moment).
“I’ll (even) hold your hand(s) if that’s what it takes.” (“Who knew you were such a romantic?”)
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originalartblog · 2 months
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Happy Valentine's day! 💖
(comic continues below) ⤵
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Dazai proceeded to almost pass out while trying to tell Chuuya to take that thing off before it kills him.
Bonus 👀
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awearywritersworld · 2 months
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i can totally imagine gojo getting to the coffee shop you're supposed to meet at early, just so you see him reading a book when you walk in. it'd def be something like eighteenth century women poets
and you're just like ???? "are you trying to impress me or something?"
and ofc this loser is like "yeah, is it working?" with the biggest shit eating grin
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starrystevie · 3 months
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"what are you doing," eddie mumbles in confusion, hair fanned out on steve's pillow, the moonlight streaming in giving him a hazy halo.
there's a hand on the side of his face and it's cupping his cheek, thumb stroking over his skin. it's soft, so soft, too soft. another hand is trapping his against the mattress, fingers trailing over his forearm before tangling into his own and squeezing tight. it's gentle, so gentle, too gentle.
eddie isn't soft, eddie isn't gentle. eddie isn't making love in a full size bed with wallpaper that matches the drapes. he isn't fluttering kisses in time with fluttering heartbeats and the fluttering wings of butterflies trapped in his stomach like the most lovely cage.
eddie is fucking at 2am when there's enough intoxication to make him look like he's worth it. he's rough and wild, quick and easy. a means to a barely wanted end because he's there and willing and with long enough hair to let people imagine he's someone else.
he should be caged instead of the damn butterflies. he bares his teeth and thrashes his limbs just to fight and see what he can get away with. he laughs loud and brash in the face of sweetness just to see anger, just to see hurt.
he has half a mind to think he's a feral animal that's hardly been trained, performing in some fucked up circus that charges two bucks to see him snarl and hurl insults at anyone who passes by. he bites at the hands that try to touch, try to feed, proving to the onlookers that he's only worth the pocket change they pay to see him.
but steve. he's holding his face like he wants to, holding his hand like it's the most important thing in the world. he's pressing kisses along eddie's jaw without any hurry, without any rush, kissing just to kiss. feeling just to feel. he's like a ray of goddamn sunshine even in the darkness that midnight provides, warming eddie from the inside out.
eddie wants to run. he wants to scream. he wants to feel like he's allowed steve's soft and gentle but he's-
"is this not okay?" and now steve's looking at him with all of whatever he's trying to give him lacing into his face, his eyes and spit slick lips sparkling in the moonlight like a shiny new toy. "do you not like it?"
concern and care are different sides of the same steve shaped coin and if eddie looks hard enough, he can see them blurring together in his frustratingly beautiful sparkling eyes and those damn butterflies start to come back.
"no, it's-" he let's out a sigh, relaxing his tight muscles and sinking into the bed, sinking into whatever steve is willing to give him. "just different, is all. good different, i think."
steve smiles and eddie shakily mirrors it back, before he's ducking his head again and slotting their lips together, fingers still holding tight to eddie's, still cupping his face like it's something precious.
eddie's come to terms with the taste of the metal bars of his cage, teeth wearing down as he tries to bite his way to freedom. maybe this time he'll let himself get used to the taste of soft and gentle smiles if it means loving steve.
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fromdarzaitoleeza · 1 year
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But I still don't know how to hold your hand without reading the ugliness of my own, But I can't contain my soul from enveloping yours !
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Web weaving about holding hands an emotion
{quotes:Mary Ruefle/uk/Francis Forever Song by Mitski/The Hand Has Twenty-Seven Bones by Natalie Diaz/Hélène Cixous, from “Olivier De Serres- A Single Passion Two Witnesses,” Love Itself: In the Letter Box (Polity Press, 2008) /uk /Saadi Youssef, from ‘Solos on the Oud’, Without an Alphabet, Without a Face: Selected Poems (trans. Khaled Mattawa) /@fatimaamerbilal from her garden yearns more for visitors than water. }
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thoughtkick · 10 months
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How amazing it is to find someone who wants to hear about all the things that go on in your head.
Nina LaCour; Hold Still
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