#anyway ….

[emzurl]

🥺

[calamitoustide]

thinking about how people who refuse to read WIPS have never experienced the joy of that ao3 email for an update you weren't expecting and not being able to think of anything else until you get to read it

[mail-me-a-snail]

:D versus D:

oh and ofc the full pieces :V

[zealfruity]

They’re friends to me. Riyo lends him her makeup+gets him clothes+buys him and his favourite vode treats, and Fox helps her get blackmail on political oponents+writing clone rights bills.

Individual “frames” and the original:

[politicalprocrastinator]

[surrexi]

I will also note that the Tech Guild specifically chose not to ask people to refrain from accessing the actual news, in particular political news.

(Source)

"The Tech Guild is asking readers to honor the digital picket line and not play popular NYT Games such as Wordle and Connections as well as not use the NYT Cooking app."

[notherpuppet]

I understand people being curious/excited about when you’ll release your comics but demanding anything from you is unfair and I can only imagine makes you feel unmotivated to continue. Thank you for all you do and props for maintaining your boundaries 🫶

Aw thanks doll ♥️

Luckily I feel like I’ve got a good sense between real life and internet life. And even though I’m online like all the time, I know how to prioritize real life’s demands, duties, and fun times.

Even if those comments are a bit annoying, I am really grateful that the vast majority of the folks who like my fanart are kind and gracious 🥰

I still don’t really understand how I get all this interaction (ty algorithm?) but making fanart is my favorite pastime and I’m glad there are fellow fans who appreciate it! It’s all very sweet. Makes this corner of the internet a happy place for me 🌷

I’m also totally addicted to seeing fanart of hazbin hotel and I love fanfiction, cosplays, and the like. Fandom is so fun, and it’s great to see people be creative. So I try not to pay much mind to the “not-fun and not-helpful” aspects 😂

[macklesufficient]

one of the great nuances of our time is the delineation between wicked and bastardly snitching [bootlicking] vs. a good and righteous tattle [godly, courageous]

[saragrekey]

You can’t tell from here but she’s writing “Anne” over and over again on her math homework with little hearts around it

[smiggles]

Im really high an watching breaking bad for the first time

[dnncats]

so shut your eyes

alt colors:

[thegreenleavesofspring]

WE BEEN TELLING YOU

I straightened my hair and im just baffled at how slippery it is. Youre telling me that straight hair moves every single time you slightly turn your head? I feel like a V tuber. I looked down at my phone to type this and was enveloped in darkness. I canmt see. Evrything is goign dark . e

[rovobeam]

'identity theft is not a joke Jim, millions of families suffer from it every year'

Tell me you get the reference so I can marry you

[calamitoustide]

college au with art student regulus who james goes to asking him to paint him a portrait of lily and at first regulus says no he doesn't do commissions and he wants nothing less than to paint james potter's girlfriend especially since he's been in love with him since he even knew what love was but also he can't say no to james and ends up doing it

that's where his obsession starts. he just wanted to start by sketching her by all the pictures james gives of her to practice for the real thing. he doesn't intend to fill up an entire notebook just of her. he doesn't intend to start noticing her everywhere and sketching her when he should be paying attention to whatever lecture he's in. she starts poisoning his mind, and he can't stop but notice every little thing about her. to any other person he would look crazy hell if anyone saw what was in his notebook they'd probably call someone on him, but he holds it close to his chest no one can know.

james starts showing up at his studio asking for updates on how the painting is going and at some point he just decides to stay there for hours while regulus works. eventually he asks for lessons so maybe one day james could paint as beautiful as regulus can. regulus is weak and says yes, letting him practice on him as he works on his own painting.

regulus keeps delaying making progress on the painting though, and it's all blurry whether it's to keep james as company or to keep lily as his muse. it's all tangled up in his head. he just knows he loathes lily for everything that she is, for how brilliant and dazzling she is and how she has james wrapped around her finger and all regulus has is his attention for maybe a few hours a week.

one day regulus loses track of his journal and lily sees it, she thinks james was the one who had drawn them (she knew he was practicing... she just didn't know he was that good at it.) she sees herself in a way she never had before, each brushstroke reveals something about herself she never thought to look at. it's only until she walks into regulus' art studio and sees the painting that she starts to question if it even was james who made them at all... and then she finds james actual notebook and sees endless drawings of regulus... and she doesn't quite know what to think anymore

[m1d-45]

doctor's orders

summary: a mild cold in the hands of one used to life or death illnesses... he really worries too much.

word count: 1k

-> warnings: you're like.. very mildly sick.. +take one (1) pill for like .5 of one second. nothin serious

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

“i don’t know why you’re taking this so seriously.”

“i dn’t kow why you aren’t.”

you sniffle again, wiping at your nose with a napkin he’d insisted you take. “it’s not like i’ll die, baizhu.”

“dont joke about that.” he sat at his desk, counting qingxin petals as he plucked them off. “you’ll be perfectly fine, so long as you take your medicine.”

you wanted to roll your eyes, to push off his worry and deny the pills. yes, you were sick, but with barely a cold—more an annoyance than anything—that you didn’t think was worth even half the trouble.

but if nothing else, this was for his benefit. part of the curse of being a doctor, you supposed: knowing even the most severe of illnesses started with a cough. or, in your case, congestion.

“and you’re certain that’s it? no aches or pains?”

for his sake, you checked again. nothing out of the ordinary, just as it was five minutes ago, the last time he asked you.

“i’m fine, just as i have been and just as i will be. even if i wanted to hide something, you’d be able to tell.”

he’d known you were sick before you did. you went out with qiqi yesterday, returning to the pharmacy with a basket propped on your waist. you exchanged your greetings with gui, lingering to watch qiqi set herself up in her chair, carefully prying seeds out of lotus heads. you were sat beside her sorting the horsetail from the violet grass when he came out of the back door, eyes lingering on you strangely.

“are you feeling well?”

you looked up, hands stalling. “yeah, i feel fine. why, is something wrong?”

gui smiled like he knew something you didn’t, but you didn’t focus on that. baizhu came to you, taking your hands in his, inspecting your palms like you’d miraculously developed an allergy to horsetail overnight. “…are you sure?”

“positive.”

“no new aches, not unusually hot or short of breath, nothing stiff or-”

“baizhu.” you turned your hands to hold his instead, his gloves cool under your fingers. “i’m fine. you worry too much.”

but, of course, your karma swung around and you woke up with a headache and a pressure in your sinus. the light off the stone paths felt too bright, your predicament obvious from the moment you opened your mouth to say hello. just like that, you’d been whisked away to a back room, changsheng curling around your shoulders as he tried to find any and every reason to worry.

it was cute. or, would have been, if you didn’t know he was worried beneath the fuss. if you didn’t know any better, it would seem like he was finding any and all excuses to touch you. a loose grip on your wrist to check if your heart was irregular, the back of his hand against your cheek to see if you had a fever, worrying and worrying like you weren’t stuck with the common cold and he wasn’t the best doctor this side of inazuma.

“you worry too much.”

“you worry too little. drink your tea.”

you did, bearing the bitter taste as changsheng slipped from your shoulders to his. honestly, with the way he was treating you, one could easily think you were at death’s door.

you weren’t, though. you traced the rim of the ceramic mug, watching him fuss with your medicine, carefully crushing and mixing a variety of strong-smelling ingredients you couldn’t hope to identify off sight alone, characteristics lost in the mortar and pestle.

“so,” you start, his eyes flicking to you but not losing focus. “you come here often?”

he rolled his eyes, adding an ambiguously labeled syrup. whatever shorthand he and gui had mastered was a mystery to you no matter how hard you tried to decipher it. “this is serious.”

“it’s the flu.”

“you don’t know that.”

“you’re biased.”

“and you’re not getting out of taking your medicine. have you finished your tea?”

he took the empty mug, checking the stray leaves at the bottom like they would give him whatever answers he was looking for. it’s not like you’d lied to him—not like you could, either. between he and changsheng, it was impossible to so much as bring him flowers.

with the help of a few bits of hyperspecific equipment (that looked far too dangerous to just be for a doctor), a single pill was tucked into your palm, a muted green sphere with flecks of white dispersed across its surface. another cup of medicinal tea was poured and drank, a bitter aftertaste left in your mouth as expected. but you were rewarded for your troubles with a quiet sigh of relief, all of his nerves apparently washing away with that single action. he pushed his glasses up on his nose, eyes softening from ‘stern doctor’ to ‘worried partner.’

“…and you’re certain-”

“i’m fine.” you downed the rest of the tea, lip curling at the taste as you set it down, not missing how he checked to see if you’d drank it all. “i’m not in pain. i’m not hurt. i’ve taken my medicine and you have personally seen me do it. please, relax.”

another sigh, this one tired and well-worn. “you know i can’t. it’s not that easy.”

“it was worth a shot,” you shrug.

he does all of the work that he can in your room that day, strictly confining you to the bed, but letting you sit with him in the lobby once noon passes and there’s less people bustling through. you politely ignore the subtle glow to his fingertips whenever he walks by you, just like you pretend not to notice his repeated, worried glances.

it was almost sweet, that he worried so much. and besides, who were you to tell him what to do with his time? a day spent with your doctor was a day well worth every second.