#and you can't find the door

[joegramoe]

And when you're looking for your freedom

Nobody seems to care

[heich0e]

au in which touya ends up having to watch natsuo put his hands all over you because you took something offered to you at a sketchy warehouse party that has you panting and whimpering and burning up and his own hot hands can't provide you any comfort but his little brother's cool-quirked touch can

[rosepetalgold]

Absolutely dying over the fact that Remus not only canonically hangs out in dark closets for no apparent reason but also that Janus knows to look for him there

[beedalee]

Meet the Artist 2024! I'm Bee, and I will be your host ✨

On a whim, I made a new 'meet the artist'… but it became such an illustration that it felt quite odd putting so much text all over it! So I kept it simple. For further reading:

Some major art influences of mine include Mia Ikumi, Naoko Takeuchi, CLAMP (esp the Rayearth era), Yoshihiko Umakoshi (specifically his Precure and Doremi work), Kira Imai, and Chiho Sato.

My tools are still generally paper & ballpoint and/or sai2. I've been drawing quite a lot offline, actually... it's just a matter of time before some of it starts to make its way up here. I just need to scan and sort things out, which I've become quite lazy about... This summer's been just gross and melting away all my willpower. Hopefully it'll start easing up now!

Anyway, that's all for now, thank you for looking ✨

August 30, 2024

[carlyraejepsans]

sorry anya and curly's collapsing twin star system kind of tragedy didn't open Your skull like a fucking pomegranate. have you perhaps tried being alive. or having taste.

[bsptourist]

gm_liminal_commercial

created by RileySV

[wexhappyxfew]

12. pushing a strand of hair behind their ear

For Annie and Brady please.

I love them soo much. And I adore your writing.

Also I hope you’re doing well and are having a great day :)

hello anon! thank you so much for submitting this prompt!! 🥹 it absolutely took a fairly cute direction in quite the circumstance (we’ll see what that means), so i hope you enjoy!! :) thank you for the love on annie and brady too! 😭 that’s so sweet!! they’re a joy to write so i hope this provides some goodness for them! YOU TOO ANON!!! i hope your day (and now weekend) is going wonderfully! please enjoy!!!

i found you again

(a/n): had a much longer version that this but….did not feel ready for that so, i shortened it up and made it work a bit more with the prompt and i liked how it came out so :) it is shorter than some of my other writings, but i hope to expand on it more in future postings haha! please enjoy!!

Annie slowly slid out of her bunk and moved through the tiny room towards Brady's bunk and got a look at his face, immediately shrinking a bit at the sight of him looking so safe, small and youthful in his sleep, reminding her of that last time they'd found each other side by side, the unknowing between the two of them, one of their last conversations face to face. And now….he was right there.

Annie reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a small shake. In almost an instant, he awoke and turned to her in the darkness and immediately reached towards her like he always used to do and grasped her arm. Always reaching.

"Hey, everything okay?" he whispered quietly, his voice a pin-drop in the dark.

"I can't get myself warm." she whispered back, the frustration behind her voice, flogged with a bit more emotion than she was going for and he immediately moved over the best he could in the cot and lifted his blanket up.

"Hop in." he whispered, a small smile on his face. Annie immediately sat on the edge and pulled herself into the bunk, wrapped in her own blanket and turned on her side, immediately becoming engulfed in Brady's chest, his bit of warmth and him. He let the rest of the blanket fall around her form and then he immediately wrapped his arm around her, pulling her shivering form to his own side, arm rubbing up and down, a bit of friction on her clothes, from him. Annie snuggled her head into his neck, where it seemed to be the warmest and let out a small sigh of relief at the bit of warmth that was finally entering her body.

"Better?" Brady whispered, warm breath tickling her neck, and she smiled and nestled closer and nodded.

"Much." she whispered, "Thank you." He smiled, and she shifted a bit, cuddling deeper, and then sighed at the immense amount of comfort that she hadn't felt in days, finally encircling her. Slowly, she brought up a hand out of the warmth of the blanket, and brought it to the side of his face, gently brushing her thumb over the bit of stubble on his cheek, the pleasant feel of him just right there, was comforting in it of itself. It was all she needed.

"So," Brady whispered, his voice somewhere next to her ear, "I never asked, after you were captured - what happened?" Annie shifted a bit and sat up, away from the warmth of his neck, and instead staring down at him, her thumb brushing his cheek, head resting on her hand, staring at those twinkling eyes.

"I was out of it for the most part," Annie whispered back, reaching up to brush some of his strands of hair from his face behind his ear, over and over, watching the sleepiness roll into his eyes, "between the knock to my head and the knee, the lack of food and water….I don't remember much aside from well…..the questioning. The staring." She met his gaze, watching quietly as he let his eyes linger over her face.

"What'd they ask you?" he whispered, his voice so low, all she really saw was his moving lips in the bleary darkness.

"Questions about everything. The 100th. About Birdie; newspaper clippings and such. About Buck and Bucky, about the Regensberg mission - my name was in the paper. Asked about home." Annie managed out, her eyes hardly leaving his own, "I didn't tell them anything. I told them my name, my number, my unit. That's it." Brady watched her and slowly brought up his free hand and brushed it against the bottom of her lip, lingering over the few scabs under her chin from the few scuffles with Germans and falls and punches.

"You?" she whispered back.

"The same." he whispered, "Lot of questions about the 100th - Buck especially. A few about you." She stared at him.

"I didn't let on a thing, though," he whispered, "I'd rather die than give away info about any one of us."

For a moment, they just stared at each other in a way that was far more intimate than anything else in the past few days, enough where her heart raced, and she suddenly felt consumed by his ever-present gaze on her own.

"Did they do anything to you?" he whispered, his thumb brushing her cheek again as her hands continued to prod his hair, "I swear to-", he looked at her, "Annie, if they laid a finger-"

"No, they didn't, not like that," she whispered, hand shaking against his face, "just shoves, a few…punches-"

"Punches?" Brady whispered, "Annie I-"

"John." she whispered, louder than she had wanted and quieted herself, shaking her head, "I'm fine, look-" her hand cupped his cheek, "I'm right here." He stared at her so longingly her stomach hurt, that yearning, that want, that desperate, reaching nature lingering between them.

"I know." Brady whispered, his hand grazing her neckline which was layered in blankets and clothing, "Just….if I ever see them doing anything, I'm jumpi-"

"John," Annie whispered, her voice soft as cream, "you don't have to do any of that now. It's just you and me. Right here." She reached out and took one of his hands, placing it on her chest where her heart was, hidden under skin and bone and overcoats. Brady watched her, like some sort of miracle and believed her. He let out a breath and swallowed.

Watching each other in their current circumstances was an art in it of itself - their hesitant, lingering gazes, the touches on one another's faces, the way her eyes evaded his, but always came back, their bodies so close, pressed against one another, but still distant.

Watching Brady now, he looked beyond exhausted, more than he ever did back at Thorpe Abbotts, and the more she continued that same, calming motion of brushing his strands of hair back, sometimes to settle behind his ear and sometimes to not, she watched his eyes grow more tired.

And in a sense, she got the idea it reminded him of when he was a child, when there was no war and his Ma probably tucked him in at night and brushed his hair gently until his eyes closed. And now, he was halfway across the world, in a P.O.W. camp.

"You need rest," she whispered softly, watching as he leaned a bit more into her touch as her fingers graced over his cheek, his eyes fighting to close, fighting the sleep, "it's okay." He watched her through half-open eyes and brought a hand to her neckline and watched her.

"I'm glad I found you again, Annie." he whispered, "I don't know what I'd do if I knew you'd gone down and didn't end up here." Annie stared at him, her world stilling around her and she couldn't help but lean forward and press a soft kiss to his forehead, before pulling back and cupping his cheek.

"Get some rest, okay?" she whispered, "I'll be right here." Brady watched her again and then nodded, that small smile on his face failing to disappear, as his eyes slides shut and his body finally seemed to relax.

You couldn't do that much here, you were always on guard, waiting for the next sound of explosions, or someone in the hallway, yelling, screaming.

Yet, here, he finally seemed to let go of all of that and sleep.

And until his breathing became deep and slow, she sat up, running a hand through his hair and letting him feel at home for once.

Even if that home was nowhere near here.

Even if home was this, right here.

[carefulfears]

one thing that stands out to me about the IVF arc is the way that, for as much as i make fun of her for asking her coworker if she can have his babies, scully asking mulder to be involved in the biggest process of her life (and the most important thing in the rest of her life) is such a healing and reverent experience. like he says “i’m absolutely flattered,” but it’s so much more than that. it’s like…spending your whole life feeling like you should’ve died at age twelve and then being told someone just wants more of you, more and more and more, in everything.

[fromtheseventhhell]

"It's normal for siblings to fight" Okay well it's not normal to be extremely classist and look down on your sister for being non-conforming. Or to go to the woman who ordered the death of your pet to tell her about your father's plans, when he specifically warned you against doing so, because you want to marry the boy you saw attack your sister and her friend (contributing partially to said father's death and your sister being unable to escape on the ship he chartered). Or to think of your sibling as unsatisfactory in comparison to another when you believe her to be dead. I notice that none of the "Sansa and Arya are going to reunite and instantly have no issues" crowd ever acknowledge any of this, which makes it seem like they don't actually believe what they say about their relationship being normal and easily reconciled. People wanting them to have no issues simply because they're siblings is another example of how fandom likes to flatten complex characters and relationships. They get reduced to being bickering siblings when their conflict runs deeper than that. If the author is telling you that they have "deep issues" to work out [X], I don't understand being so adamant about ignoring said issues. I also get the sense it's about ignoring the capacity for a certain character to be flawed, but that isn't going to change the fact that her "slip of the tongue" is very likely to be revealed and a source of further conflict 🤷🏾‍♀️

[sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes]

I feel like when Virgil said he used to be scared of Remus he meant he was scared but would try to get a long with Remus. (While keeping distant lol)

Then Remus is madly in love and tries to get close to Vee no matter what lol

Yess

Whenever I think of them I think of that trope of a huge dark insane character that goes all dopey with heart eyes when that one character (who is usually much smaller than them) as much as lightly touches their hand (or, in other words, they are Morticia and Gomez)

I also like to think that in the past Virgil used to like listening to Remus' rambles every once in awhile because sometimes they involved things he likes (spiders, darkness, vampires, etc), and that was enough for Remus to decide that he was Good™

[anghraine]

[For context, I'm an agnostic lesbian raised Mormon with some scattered Catholic influences from summers with my bio dad and his family. I have buckets of religious trauma and associations as a very predictable result, though not everything was terrible.]

So I was waiting for my best friend and his girlfriend to get home from dinner with my BFF's mother—this is the first time his girlfriend, who was a close friend of mine before meeting him, had met his family. Ash had gone downstairs to change and wipe off her make-up when someone knocked insistently at our door.

The doorknob is a bit persnickety so I rushed to let in my BFF, only to find myself facing down an unexpected but very familiar sight: young male Mormon missionaries.

me: Oh ... hi. missionaries: Good evening, ma'am. Would you like to hear news about Jesus? me: Um, I'm not—I'm a member, actually. I was raised in the Church. missionaries: Really? me: Yes :) I was the pianist for the primary in our old ward for years :) missionaries: Oh, what ward was that? me: St Helens. I didn't really go when I was in grad school and I just graduated. missionaries: Ahh, I see. Well, if you want to go back, [directions to the local church]. me: Thank you. missionaries, after a very awkward pause: Do you need any help with anything? me: Oh, we're... [*resists the urge to point out that the other household members who just happened to be absent are a Jewish atheist socialist, a devoutly Muslim bisexual post-colonial scholar, and an Exvangelical trans woman still processing her rage, and none of them would have the slightest desire to get help from Mormons*] We're good, really. My parents are the ones who would need help from the Church, I think, and they live over in [town], so their closest ward is actually the one in [other town] and they can reach out to them. Thanks, though :) missionaries: We could just leave our number with you in case you ever needed anything. me [very conscious of the temptation to call on the Church when a crisis strikes and I desperately need help, and how trapped and shitty I feel afterwards]: That's really nice, but I think we're fine. There are several of us here. I hope you have a good night, though! :)

[questioninglogic]

being invested in all this time travel/time travel adjacent media at once is doing some serious rewiring in my brain

[coquelicoq]

actually natori has some kind of tracking talisman on matoba at all times. that's how he knew where to abduct matoba from for Operation: Kitty Cat City. matoba fully knows about it; it's why he wasn't at all surprised to find a paper doll in natsume's hair after the mask youkai debacle (matoba internally as he watched it fly away: classic mother hen shuuichi-san momence 🥰). because this is matoba "boundaries? what are those? can you eat them?" seiji we're talking about, he's not bothered by this "violation" of his "privacy"; rather, he finds it fittingly clingy (it is, after all, only right that natori should be keeping tabs on him obsessively). sometimes the talisman gets confused and sticks to yesterday's outfit, so he always checks to make sure he has it on the way out the door (his pocket patdown is "keys, lighter, wallet, exorcism supplies, shuuichi-san's cute lil tracker he thinks i don't know about <3"). i wouldn't be surprised if he's figured out how to uno reverse it and now uses it to track natori's location as well. this may not technically be canon but it is probably all 100% true in an important way that transcends canon, we just never hear about it because it isn't relevant to natsume's journey 😌

[pyrepostings]

whumpee who's only given soft water to drink/bathe with.

[cptnghoulowl]

I'M NOT READY FOR MIZUKI 5 I'M SERIOUS I CAN'T I GENUINELY CAN'T ALSJSKDJDKDDNDKDNDKDNDKDJDKSNSMSNSKSNDMDNSMSNDDD I'M LIKE TERRIFIED AND ALSO MIGHT THROW UP

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

i can’t imagine how violating having your work fed into ai felt and the more I’ve thought about it today the more it disturbs me. you’ve put so much wonderful stuff into this fandom and it should be treated with respect.

🫂 if you want them. i’m truly sorry that happened.

Honestly I went through a lot of emotions, and I think in the moment I was mostly in shock because... they came in with like... excitement? A "hey! :D I really love what you make so I wanted to make you something with your ship! I used AI to make it!" kind of a moment and I just stared at the messages as they kept going

The only reason why I didn't purge my stuff back then was the fact that the longer they went on, the more they started to double down without me even saying a word (or them even knowing I had seen the messages), because they could see for themselves how messed up it was. And they concluded something like "so maybe this could be used as a kind of a prompt". Which was a relatively easy footing for me as well when I eventually did type back, because... I genuinely didn't get ill intention vibes from the person, and they were self-aware enough to see how it must've felt like without me having to explain it

But still. Like the one question in my mind was "if you like it so much, then why are you doing this to it?"

I know that some people are very insecure about their English skills (which is also why they sometimes comment in their native language instead of English; and I've thought about replying in my own), or creative abilities in general, which... like that I DO GET. That I understand. I've been there. I am still there. That's what learning new skills and developing them feels like. But... I don't mind the typos or incorrect grammar or structural issues or whatever, just don't... bastardize my writing.

Because it's like... I knit a shirt. You take the shirt and say you like it a lot. You start pulling the threads apart and stick it into a sewing machine to make a franken shirt, and hand it back with "it's better now! I used a machine to fix it!" Which will inevitably make me feel like whatever time and effort I put into my craft, the development of the shirt (or story) and the pattern (the characters) actually isn't good. And if you want a sweater that's made of plastic "yarn" and can barely survive two turns in a washing machine, you can go buy one. Go ahead, I can't exactly stop you, but plastic shirts (no matter how fluffy) won't keep you warm like real wool.

yeah... that was not a good day

But thanks for the hugs, they're very much appreciated