#(well maybe a little embarrassed)

[rox-of-iu]

(i made these back in Dec 2023 but forgot to post them. but i still like them so here they go)

anyway these are character sketches/concepts for a fic As the incense burns, which is basically Misadventures of PIDW late-game Mu Qingfang

((pardon the scrap paper, most of them were just side doodles from next to my notes lol))

some more scraps under cut ↓

these are silly goofy doodles which do not correlate with the overall vibe of the fic (with some exceptions) but i am not making fun of the fic dont worry the author gave me explicit permission to make these :) (lol)

[ninjagirlstar5]

Can you draw Purple and Blue chatting? Maybe sitting somewhere on the couch? No shipping, just wholesome friendship!

Okay, I thought this ask disappeared thanks to Tumblr being wacky, but thankfully I found it. Good thing I double checked. ^^;

[j0rbits-art]

older atreus, baby baldur, & Hel concepts from 2022

[time-slink]

betta fish iskall… because irony? lol

[egophiliac]

so have you heard about the ride kamens app game? seems like it's gonna be a twisted wonderland like game with all the riders being hot anime guys now, and it's also gonna be written by yuya takahashi and produced by naomi takebe (apparently it was in development before geats), with designs by the person who did sk8 the infinity, so take that for what you will

have you ever gotten the feeling that a piece of media came into existence just to appeal to you specifically, or

(brb preregistering immediately)

(as far as I can tell you play as an agent who maintains a secret superhero base for riders in the basement of the rider-themed cafe that you run with your butler, and there's some other plot stuff going on but honestly I'm way past sold at this point, this sounds amazing)

[moonshynecybin]

i think part of why marc is so interesting from a rpf/general fandom perspective as a CHARACTER besides like idk, being the drama, is because yeah he’s a PR master and a frequent liar but he’s also like. so pathologically himself. spotty poker face. yapper. bad at little subtle social cues sometimes. intense. and he likes to be seen and known and understood! so even when he IS lying or doing blah blah pr speak, either there’s some layer of truth hidden near or inside the lie, his actions blatantly contradict said lie, or he will just straight up admit that he was lying later ! like he has to be himself he simply has to

[mrs-luigi-vargas]

Didn't wanna derail a post I saw this morning, but it had me idly wondering - do you think there's a bowsario fic or art piece out there where Luigi's the overprotective hardass about the relationship, similar to Mario in some bowuigi stuff? I know there are fics where Peach is bent out of shape about it (usually from a political standpoint).

I know this idea comes up against the general older/younger brother stereotyped dynamic, and Luigi's wariness of Bowser in general. But c'mon he should get to push past that at least once to give Bowser a bit of shit about whether he's good enough for Mario or not. As a treat. Because it would be funny (or at least I think so).

[soup-is-here]

Mouthwashing Spoilers

TW: Addiction and Self Harm

I wanna go on about Swansea's final monologue but it's hard to put into words, but I'm gonna try anyways cause it's a short, but strong story about autonomy again. This post ended up significantly longer than I wanted though

It's the autonomy to choose the "less healthy" option because it's appealing to you. It's the moral assignment to normality and stability. An alcoholic is an alcoholic by choice, technically, but do they owe us otherwise? Is it morally reprehensible to enjoy taking LSD at a party? Should we see someone as less than because they relax with a xanax instead of a hot shower? It's not healthy. We know that. We've seen anti-drug ad after ad after ad. But is that the part that's morally wrong, in and of itself? Does enjoying the drugs and chaos make Swansea a worse person?

Like him talking about his entire life and ending it by saying between the "stable" "normal" life and him waking up every morning with a new hangover, he preferred the latter. People always talk about getting clean and fixing their lives and Swansea did it! He did the thing "good men" do! A wife and kids and a trade job and sobriety! He was doing it! He was finally "worth" something!

And he hated it! I mean I don't know if he actually hated/despised it, but he misses his previous life. He misses drugs and partying and living like you might not wake up the next day. He said the thing that changed him was seeing himself dead in a ditch under the bright beam of a streetlight. Now he's looking down the barrel of a gun. And as he looks down it, he looks back. That was his preference. It felt good to be like that. And he wouldn't be here if he stayed there

We always have a narrative about drugs or gambling or sleeping around where a person suddenly realizes that they aren't "doing anything" with their life and becomes stable and it's always played like addiction is a false pleasure. Swansea got to the stability people said would be the real pleasure of life and that just wasn't true for him. One bad paycheck could've been the difference between his stable life and falling apart anyways. His lifestyle was going to kill him someday apparently, yet he's staring down the barrel of a gun at his steady trade job to feed his wife and kids.

I don't know quite how to word it but Swansea is the poster child for rehabilitation. There's this weight to him saying his alcoholic period was the best time of his life. Like it just hits at that pang that makes people wear DARE shirts while smoking weed and post those videos of smoking 100 cigarettes at once. Anti-vaping ads tell you about the damage they do to your body but everyone knows that already. Everyone knows "this is what your brain looks like on drugs." I smoke medical marijuana and it isn't good for my lungs but it's good for my pain. Doing drugs isn't good for me and I know that and that's sorta the point sometimes.

I don't know it's just this weird pang where I know what Swansea means, just not to nearly the same extent. I don't have an addiction so I don't think I could fully understand it. Maybe a better thing I could relate it to for myself is self harm. It's not healthy sure, but who do I owe health? Myself? Other people? And what is healthy? Is it feeling better now? Is it resisting now and feeling worse for it until it stops? What if the coping skills I learn make it worse? What if they make it better? Do I want it to get better? Does Swansea want to get better? What would better feel like to either of us?

Who knows until you try. Swansea got a collared shirt, a mortgage, and a credit card. He got a job and a wife and kids. He got sober. He got healthier, depending on your definition.

But did he feel better? He's looking down a barrel of a gun and he has to decide if he feels better. It doesn't seem like he regrets his new life. He says he wants his kids to be better than him. He wants good things to happen for them. He saw himself as one bad slip away from falling again. I don't think he felt better though. I think he got healthier. He likely would've ended up in the ditch he dreamt about, but we don't know that. We also don't know if that's what he'd prefer. But, we do know he got healthier, depending on your definition.

[scionshtola]

FFXIVWrite2024 Prompt 4 - Reticent

characters: Hien Rijin, Y'shtola Rhul rating: G | word count: 1216 words notes: Hien clears up some misconceptions about his relationship with Corisande. Slight spoilers for the Stormblood patches.

When Y’shtola arrived in Doma, Hien greeted her personally. On the advice of Corisande—a small aside in a letter sent ahead of Y’shtola’s arrival—he kept the meeting short and to the point, inquiring about her work and offering his assistance, as needed. He’d provided her with an apartment, if she chose to accept it, and access to his limited staff as she desired.

She’d accepted his hospitality with appreciation, and Hien had left the encounter with a slight swell of pride at having done well by the Scion so highly spoken of by the Warrior of Light. Over the course of her stay in Doma, while their relationship did not grow so warm as the one she seemed to share with Yugiri, he was happy to say they were rather amicable.

Or so he thought. But now, walking beside her on the Azim Steppe, he could feel a chill wafting in his direction. 

Corisande had run slightly ahead to speak with Cirina, leaving Hien and Y’shtola alone together as they followed. Unsure of how long the moment of privacy would last, he cast about for some way of broaching the topic—and confirming his suspicions—and settled on, “Corisande has been a great help to the people of Doma. Our restoration efforts would not be half so far along without them.”

“I am sure they would be happy to know their efforts are making a difference,” Y’shtola said evenly, without looking in his direction. 

“They spoke very highly of you, on our journey together,” Hien continued, trying his best to be nonchalant. “Quite effusively, if I might add.”

“So you have said.” The response was just short of terse, and he was certain she had started walking faster, though her lack of height gave him the advantage. 

“You spoke as effusively of them when first we met.” Hien paused, and glanced at her before he spoke again. “I admit I didn’t quite grasp the depth of your friendship until the three of us began to work together.”

Her expression remained as smooth as a river-worn stone. It hardly surprised him. In the short time of their acquaintance, she had shown herself as a self-possessed woman, difficult to ruffle.

Y’shtola’s reply was short, in length and tone. “We are close.”

Her reticence amused him. Had he not spent the last few days with the both of them—had she not grown cool toward him with Corisande’s presence—he might have left her to her secrets. Instead, he said, “I didn’t think you were one for obscuring the truth. We both know that is quite an understatement.”

Even that was putting it lightly. He had borne witness for days now to the ways Corisande and Y’shtola gravitated toward each other. Always half-turned toward the other, as if a private world existed between the two of them. They seemed able to communicate full thoughts with only a look, despite the limits of Y’shtola’s vision, and they worked in perfect tandem together, often anticipating what the other would ask or say before they even spoke.

Perhaps that could be explained with a deep friendship, were it not for how often they seemed to forget he was there, providing him with an unobstructed view of the warmth in their gazes when they looked at each other—when they lingered long after the other had turned away. 

Ahead of them, Corisande was deep in conversation with Cirina, oblivious to the exchange happening behind her. Hien leaned slightly into Y’shtola’s space, whispering conspiratorially, “Though I am not sure Corisande quite realizes it yet.”

“I am not obscuring anything,” Y’shtola stopped just short of snapping at him. “There is nothing to hide. Though you may be unable to engage in a conversation with Corisande without flirtation, she and I have no need to partake in such behavior.”

Hien fought a smile at having his suspicions proven correct—the occasional flirtation peppered in the easy back and forth of his conversations with Corisande was the cause of her distance. He did not think she would take kindly to even minimal gloating, so he kept the victory to himself, and said, “No need, perhaps, but the desire is there. You need not deny it—neither of you are as subtle as you believe.”

“Your conclusions are ill-informed,” Y’shtola said, a sharp edge in her voice. He was not quite sure, between the two of them, who it was meant to cut. She turned to him with narrow eyes. “If our familiarity has been as overt as you suggest, it is simply a result of the gratification of our reunion.”

“Besides,” she added as she turned away, seemingly as an afterthought, though Hien guessed it was more of a calculated risk than any carelessness on her part. “Corisande’s attention is held elsewhere.”

It did not take an academic of any caliber to puzzle that one out. He laughed, and she shot an irritated look in his direction. “If their attention is elsewhere, it is certainly not on me.” 

Hien only flirted with Corisande because it made her laugh—she never responded in kind, and he never wished for her to do so. Any hope of romance between them had long diminished, almost before it had even begun. “Did she tell you of the kiss we shared on a hill not far from here?”

Y’shtola looked away again, her jaw set. “I know of it.”

An interestingly vague answer. She’d learned of it, but perhaps not from Corisande. “Then you should also know that it ended in disaster. And enough tears to drown any budding romance.” 

“If their grief was enough to deter you,” Y’shtola said, and this time there was no mistaking the recipient of her ire, “perhaps the romance should not have been pursued so casually.” 

“I will not argue that,” Hien said, with a twinge of shame in his chest. It had not been his proudest moment, though he was sure that the conversation that followed the short-lived attempt at romance had made way for the friendship they had now. “I knew very little of their past at the time. The feelings were new and not so deep rooted as—” yours “--those of others.”

Y’shtola studied him, her eyes narrowed. “You are becoming quite the diplomat.” 

“I’m certainly learning,” Hien said, with a smile. “You should tell them, and spare the rest of us all the longing looks at each others’ backs.”

Y’shtola laughed quietly, and he was grateful that the conversation was ending on a pleasant note. The chill he had felt from her had evaporated. 

He stepped forward, walking backwards so he could look at her as he spoke. “Or perhaps you need a challenge to motivate you? I can resume my efforts, if it will inspire you to speak up.”

Hien had barely enough time to dodge the stream of air she aimed at his head. She wore an impish smirk when he looked at her, and pushed her way past him with a bump of her shoulder. He watched her catch up with Cirina and Corisande, the latter of whom immediately looped her arm through Y’shtola’s as they walked. 

Corisande looked over her shoulder at him, smiling brightly and gesturing for him to catch up. He jogged after them, falling into step next to Cirina with a smile.

[phagodyke]

the masculine urge to take a saucepan off thr draining board and bash myself repeatedly over the head with it until I pass out and no longer have to experience feeling Bad 😍

[iorepairs]

Chapters: 1/1 (3,975 words) Fandom: Tron (Movies) Rating: T Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Edward Dillinger Sr./Original Female Character(s) Characters: Ed Dillinger Sr., Master Control Program, Original Female Character, Other Tron '82 Characters (mentioned) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, POV Multiple, Undressing, wound care, what if Dillinger had a cool sexy mecha pilot suit?, but it malfunctioned and someone had to come help him get out of it? this is that, someone had to sexualize that man! he deserves it ok! bye! Summary: In a slightly different world, Ed Dillinger stays in his office and tries to wrestle back control using a brand new, custom piece of technology. Of course, like everything else that night, it doesn't go quite as he expected.

Yayy, it's "Encom Break-In Day" (Sept. 22), so I wanted to post something I've been working on for the last couple weeks. It's kind of an absurd premise and very self-indulgent but there is some stuff in here I'm proud of so if anyone wants to give it a shot and check it out (if you can get past it being. Dillinger, I understand this is a big ask lmao) I'd be so happy!

[termagax]

re: "good girl" i think they say it once randomly as a joke and its just one of those things that gets him wayyy more than they expected it would. so now its their secret weapon and they use it very sparingly and every single time he gets super embarrassed about it but it works ill tell you what.

[e77y]

The visceral and hungering loneliness is back. You know what that means! Bedtime

[naenaex0xx]

maybe I'm comfortable with tumblr because I get to say things I don't usually tell anyone

[starpros-sunshine]

↓ Is he a joke to you?

Am I a joke to you?

Is my raison d'être naught but a jest to you? To you, who is one half of the aforementioned? Oh Jail for Eichi jail for Eichi for one Thousand years!!!

[weirdopponent]

FRUITS THAT COULD HAVE BEEN GROWING ON THE TREE OF KNOWLEDGE

The apple, the classic, bright red like struck skin

fits firmly in your palm.

You crush it in your teeth and between your jaws, it snaps like broken bone.

Scavengers feast on what remains, what you leave behind.

The pomegranate, cut in half, bleeds like a heart

from four chambers, from its severed veins

which it doesn't need anymore, taken from its body like this

The peach falls to the ground and no one catches it in time

and it bruises readily, tenderly

martyred for the health of the earth

The cherry grows in pairs

One holds the other which holds the other back

When you split them apart, the ladder of your ribs aches in sympathy

The apricot shines golden from its perch in the golden sun

reminding you of the guardians blinding halo, its fierce flaming swords

Is it ever blinded? The fruit is sweet on the tongue

A banana?

That's just silly.