#bad match chapters

[povlvr]

I love this story so much! I think I’ve read it about 4 times & it never fails to get me in all the feels!

Highly recommend!

Bad Match - Series Masterlist (Finished)

*banner by @average-asgardian-avenger

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14 

Part 15 

Part 16 

Part 17

Part 18

Part 19 (The End)

[mrschwartz]

Seth Meyers and The Lonely Island talking about when Arctic Monkeys were the musical guest at SNL in 2006

(bonus)

[what-the-fuck-khr]

vongola colour wheel: 3/8

— sun, sasagawa ryohei

[jumpscaregoose]

screenshot redraws because I'm feeling very normal about them

original screenshots + nonsense under cut

for some reason the clip I yoinked these from was cropped to an approximation of a 4:3 aspect ratio and munched by compression and that spoke to me. so mine are in 4:3. fuck it we ball

and then when I was working on allen I went to lock transparent pixels and somehow wound up pasting the yugioh reference from jjk 240 onto there and thought it was hilarious so

[lastofthe20thcenturygirls]

so kofuku matching yato-hiyori led to hiyori's death and yato disappearing from existence after kissing her

and ōkuninushi blessing them with happiness is going to lead to hiyori bringing yato back into existence and be happy together

[sweatytoast]

They are playing rock 🪨 , paper 📄 , scissors ✂️ or idk playing soccer to kill, steal, or win…. I forget which one tbh

Based on this image

[ssreeder]

Hi, I sent an ask like 5 minutes ago but I'm not sure if it went through for certain reasons so if it did just ignore that,

I love your fic so much. One of my favourite things is the authors note, I love hearing your rambles and thought processes behind certain scenes,

And JEE💖💖

The jee lovers in the fandom are small but dedicated, I love that man.

Any situation of an older man reluctantly and unknowingly adopting a child they hate and growing soft for them I love, I could ramble on for hours about certain headcanons I have regarding jee and zuko for hours, I need more of them (AND HIM AND BATO (please don't kill them i need AT LEAST 1 queer couple to be happy in this fic🙏🙏))

Also another thing, I do fanart and I really want to do art for this fic but I have no idea which scene to do, is there any specific ones you would want art of?

HI HI HI HI HIIII!!

I didn’t get your five minute ago ask but I got this one!! ahhhhhh my shameful authors notes haha I am very unhinged in there, I think I black out and rub my face in the keyboard honestly.

JEE LOVERS UNITED WE STAND!!!! I adore his dislike of both zuko & sokka in the beginning and now he’s falling hard for sokkas uncle and has pretty much said if anything happens to these kids I’ll burn this bitch to the ground. Unfortunately, Jees situation is going to get a bit more complicated he just doesn’t realize it yet haha.

THERE IS A HAPPY QUEER COUPLE! *gestures at liab zuko* I mean they’re happy like…. some of the time haha. Ok ok I see your point but no promises because you know when I start blowing shit up in liab I can get a little crazy :D mwahahaha.

FAN ART FOR ME?!1?27,771!37/&/ YOU KNOW HOW TO MAKE ME FERAL!!! ahhhhh honestly idk how to pick scenes im so bad at it i dont know what to choose but if you did wanna draw any scenes maybe any from ITF? Your fave or ones scenes you liked idk that’s my suggestion lol.

thanks for this amazing ask you’re a beautiful human thank you!

[aroaessidhe]

2023 reads // twitter thread

To Shape A Dragon’s Breath

YA fantasy

a young Indigenous girl finds & bonds with a dragon hatchling - the first time in many generations for her people - and is required to go to the coloniser’s dragon academy in their mainland city, to learn how to raise her dragon and the science of its magic

historical inspired setting on the cusp of industrial revolution with steampunk vibes

bi polyamorous MC, Black lesbian SC, nonverbal autistic SC

[koko2unite]

I am reminded again that Legosi's theme and Louis' theme played together become a full song

[kay9leo]

At First Glance Part III

Fanfic Inspired by: https://www.tumblr.com/eternalremorse/751163260305342464/seb-x-mc-coded?source=share

1.1K+ words

Chapter 2 <<<||| Chapter 3 |||>>>Chapter 4

...At Feldcroft

The Feldcroft home visit went worse than Sebastian expected.

Not only was his uncle rude to him and rash when he destroyed the shivelfig he brought for Anne, Solomon completely embarrassed him in front of his best friend. Anger and shame filled him like never before and he found himself leaving the house before he could make things worse.

Since that’s all he could do when he went home apparently.

Sebastian kicked a few weeds here and there, walking away from that house he was forced to call home since he was six. He hated his uncle. He hated it here.  He hated the fact that he told MC to give him a moment when she went looking for him. He could only watch from the corner of his eyes as she nodded back with an “okay” before she made her way back to his uncle’s house where hopefully Anne could do damage control.

Because apparently all he could do was cause chaos whenever he came home.

And all he could hope for was that MC would still be friends with him after this embarrassing episode. The last thing he wanted her to see him was weak as he held back his tears from the angry and hurt he felt whenever his uncle would act like this.

Then when she came up to talk to him, it seemed as if his worries were for nought. She was worried for him. While he had to explain how Solomon was like this all the time, how he was the only one who still seem to care to try to find a cure for his sister or at least make her current state better, MC never saw him as less, glanced at him as a misfit that everyone –even Ominis– did.

MC saw him as himself.

As a brother trying to save his sister.

Sebastian wasn’t hesitant to take her to the place where it all happened. Hoping that maybe she would be able to find something he couldn’t before. Nor was he hesitant to attack when he spotted Ranrok’s loyalists.

The two quickly shifted into their dueling stance when they partnered up, knowing this time there was something bigger to lose than pride here. It was here that Sebastian could finally let out all his frustration, his hurt, his anger at the very beings that caused his life to spiral downwards since Anne was cursed.

He tried to keep his best friend close to him, but soon the number overwhelmed them and they were split. Emotions powered his magic.

Sebastian wasn’t going to lose another loved one here. Not again.

It was here where he was also reminded who he was fighting with as he saw her Ancient Magic be put on display when he took down the last of his attackers that surrounded him.

MC’s eyes glowed a bright blue as she called down lighting on the commander who refused to yield, like some goddess out of a story book. The goblin commander still stood and continued to fight, but Sebastian saw that lighting blue flash of light again –the same one from he saw during that troll fight– strike the red-glowing goblin commander. He glowed purple.

A blink later, he was gone.

Nothing but ash in his place.

So awed by her display of god-like power this time around, he didn’t even notice the goblin behind her until she was wacked in the head with a frying pan and collapsed.

While Sebastian didn’t have god-like power, he had enough magic in him, enough anger to confringo the menace to death before he ran to his friend, hoping he wasn’t too late.

“Please be alive, please be alive –oh thank th’gods ye’re still breathing!” He heard himself say as he rolled her onto her back. There was a goose-egg swell that already started to develop on the side of her head.

It was a heavy reminder that for as much of a goddess in human form MC was with her Ancient Magic powers, at the end of the day, she was still human.

MC could still be killed.

Sebastian didn’t know what to do other than hold her, watch her breathe as a reminder that she was still alive. It wasn’t until she woke up that he felt all the tension leave his body like a ghost no longer processing him.

“Se-Sebastian?” She said as she opened her eyes, blinking at him.

“I’m here. How are you feeling darling?” He sniffed, never more grateful than the fact that she was alive.

That she was still here.

Sebastian didn’t lose her.

“I feel like I got wacked with a pan.” She groaned. Sebastian couldn’t help but laugh, the nerves finally getting to him.

“Good tae see that you’re still up tae make jokes. And tae remember what happened.” He said as he gave her space to slowly sit up, arms ever ready to catch her in case she fell.

“If I’m doing down, I’m– shite. Sebastian are you okay?” She said.

“A’m fine. Why dae ye ask?” He said, unable to stop the Scots accent from slipping into his posh English speech anymore.

MC frowned as she placed her hand on his cheek and wiped the tears he didn’t realize was there. ���You’re crying.”

Sebastian couldn’t help himself as he pulled her in for a hug, inhaling her citrus orange perfume in, listening to her heartbeat as he laid his head against her chest. Listening to her breathe.

It was the most wonderful sound in the world.

“Ah thought ye died.” He cried as he broken down.

Her arms surrounded him, rocking him as if he was a little boy. Holding him like the six-year-old boy in him needed when his parents died.

She’s alive. She’s alive. She’s alive. He thought with each breath as she rubbed his back, soothing away a nightmare he didn’t want to re-live through again.

Never again.

…

Chapter 2 <<<||| Chapter 3 ||| >>> Chapter 4

[acourtofquestions]

Rowaelin Chapter 41 Kingdom of Ash:

She'd rebuild it—what she had been.

Perhaps one last time, perhaps only for a little while, but she'd do it. If only for Terrasen.

Rowan swooped from the mast, shifting as he reached her side at the rail. He surveyed the night-black sea beyond them. "You should rest." She slid him a glance. "I'm not tired." Not a lie, not in some regards. "Want to spar?" He frowned. "Training can start tomorrow."

"Or tonight." She held his piercing stare, matched his dominance with her own.

"It can wait a few hours, Aelin."

"Every day counts." Against Erawan, even a day of training would count.

Rowan's jaw tightened. "True," he said at last. "But it can still wait. There are ... there are things we need to discuss." The silent words rose in his animal-bright eyes. About you and me.

Her mouth went dry. But Aelin nodded In silence, they strode into their spacious quarters, its only decoration the wall of windows that overlooked the churning sea behind them. A far cry from a queen's chamber, or any she might have purchased as Adarlan's assassin.

At least the bed built into the wall looked clean enough, the sheets crisp and stainless. But Aelin headed for the oak desk anchored to the floor, and leaned against it while Rowan shut the door.

In the dim lantern light, they stared at each other.

She'd endured Maeve and Cairn; she'd endured Endovier and countless other horrors and losses. She could have this conversation with him. The first step toward rebuilding herself.

Aelin knew Rowan could hear her thundering heart as the space between them went taut. She swallowed once. "Elide and Lorcan told you... told you everything that was said on that beach."

A curt nod, wariness flooding his eyes. "Everything that Maeve said." Another nod.

She braced herself. "That I'm-we're mates."

Understanding and something like relief replaced that wariness. "Yes."

"I'm your mate," she said, needing to voice it. "And you are mine."

Rowan crossed the room, but halted a few feet from the desk on which she leaned. "What of it, Aelin?" His question was low, rough.

"Don't you..." She scrubbed at her face. "You know what she did to you, to ..." She couldn't say her name. Lyria. "Because of it."

"I do know."

"And?"

"And what do you wish me to say?"

She pushed off the desk. "I wish you to tell me how you feel about it. If…"

"If what?"

"If you wish it wasn't so."

His brows narrowed. "Why would I ever wish that?"

She shook her head, unable to answer, and stared over her shoulder toward the sea.

It seemed like he would close the distance between them, but he remained where he was.

"Aelin." His voice turned hoarse. "Aelin."

She looked at him then, at the pain in his words.

"Do you know what I wish?" He exposed his palms, one tattooed, the other unmarked. "I wish that you had told me. When you realized it. I wish you had told me then."

She swallowed against the ache in her throat. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"Why would it ever hurt me to know the truth that was already in my heart? The truth I hoped for?"

"I didn't understand it. I didn't understand how it was possible. I thought maybe ... maybe you might be able to have two mates within a lifetime, but even then, I just ….." She blew out a breath. "I didn't want you to be distressed." His eyes softened. "Do I regret that Lyria was dragged into this, that the cost of Maeve's game was her life, and the life of the child we might have had? Yes. I regret that, and I wish it had never happened." He would bear the tattoo to remember it for the rest of his days. "But none of that was your fault. I will always carry some of the burden of it, always know I chose to leave her for war and glory, and that I played right into Maeve's hands."

"Maeve wanted to ensnare you to get to me, though."

"Then it is her choice, not yours."

Aelin ran a hand over the worn wood of the desk. "In those illusions she spun for me, she showed me variations on one more than all the others." The words were strained, but she forced them out. Forced herself to look at him. "She spun me one dreamscape that felt so real I could smell the wind off the Staghorns."

"What did she show you?" A breathless question.

Aelin had to swallow before she could answer. "She showed me what might have been—if there had been no Erawan, if Elena had dealt with him properly and banished him. If there had been no Lyria, none of that pain or despair you endured. She showed me Terrasen as it would have been today, with my father as king, and my childhood happy, and..." Her lips wobbled. "When I turned twenty, you came with a delegation of Fae to Terrasen, to make amends for the rift between my mother and Maeve. And you and I took one look at each other in my father's throne room, and we knew."

She didn't fight the stinging in her eyes. "I wanted to believe that was the true world. That this was the nightmare from which I'd awaken. I wanted to believe that there was a place where you and I had never known this suffering and loss, where we'd take one look at each other and know we were mates. Maeve told me she could make it so. If I gave her the keys, she'd make it all possible." She wiped at her cheek, at the tear that escaped down it. "She spun me realities where you were dead, where you'd been killed by Erawan and only in handing over the keys to her would I be able to avenge you. But those realities made me ... I stopped being useful to her when she told me you were gone. She couldn't get me to talk, to think. Yet in the ones where you and I met, where things were as they should have been ... that was when I came the closest."

His swallow was audible. "What stopped you?"

She wiped at her face again. "The male I fell in love with was you. It was you, who knew pain as I did, and who walked with me through it, back to the light. Maeve didn't understand that. That even if she could create that perfect world, it wouldn't be you with me. And I'd never trade that, trade this. Not for anything." He extended his hand. An offer and invitation.

Aelin laid hers atop his, and his callused fingers squeezed gently. "I wanted it to be you," he breathed, closing his eyes. "For months and months, even in Wendlyn, I wondered why you weren't my mate instead. It tore me up, wondering it, but I still did." He opened his eyes, and they burned like green fire. "All this time, I wanted it to be you."

She lowered her gaze, but he hooked a thumb and forefinger around her chin and lifted her face.

"I know you are tired, Fireheart. I know that the burden on your shoulders is more than anyone should endure." He took their joined hands and laid them on his heart. "But we'll face this together. Erawan, the Lock, all of it.

"We'll face it together. And when we are done, when you Settle, we will have a thousand years together. Longer."

A small sound came out of her. "Elena said the Lock requires—"

"We'll face it together," he swore again.

"And if the cost of it truly is you, then we'll pay it together. As one soul in two bodies.

Her heart strained to the point of cleaving. "Terrasen needs a king."

"I have no intention of ruling Terrasen without you. Aedion can have the job."

She scanned his face. He meant every word He brushed the hair from her face, his other hand still clasping hers to his chest, where his heart pounded a steady, unfaltering rhythm.

"Even if I had my choice of any dream-realities, any perfect illusions, I would still choose you, too."

She felt the truth of his words echo into the unbreakable thing that bound their very souls, and tilted her face up toward his. But he made no move beyond it.

She frowned. "Why aren't you kissing me?"

"I thought you might want to be asked first."

"That never stopped you before."

"This first time, I wanted to make sure you were ... ready." After Cairn and Maeve. After months of having no choices whatsoever.

She smiled despite that truth. "I'm ready to be kissed again, Prince."

He let out a dark chuckle and muttered, "Thank the gods," before he lowered his mouth to hers.

"You're my mate." Her words were a breathless rush. "And I am yours."

The world might have been burning around them for all she cared, all he cared, too.

"Together, Aelin," he promised, and she heard the rest of the words in every place their bodies joined. Together they would face this, together they would find a way.

Together we'll find a way, their mingling breaths, the crashing sea, seemed to echo.

Together.

[danzainosolitude]

Once again I read fanfiction that seems to have been precisely written to deal psychic damage to me.

[whumblr]

Agonising

I come in peace, I come bearing gifts. This is not the Bad Place. This is what happens to Zayne while Jay is on his way in the trunk of a car :) Follow-up to chapter Antagonising.

Home is where the hurt is: Part 1

-

So. This was it.

No way Emery was going to let a betrayal like this slide. And as soon as the bag was ripped from his head, when his eyes adjusted to the bit of light there was and he instantly recognised the warehouse, their old hideout, yeah, he knew he was going to die here.

With a grunt Zayne landed hard on his knees. Hands tightened around his shoulders, pressing him back down when he struggled to try and get back on one knee. He wasn’t going to just let this happen but even he had to admit defeat against two of Emery’s bodyguards who had the high ground. These weren’t owned pawns; they were paid and had their own motivation for helping Emery out. Money. Fear can only get you so far. A pawn controlled by fear would only gladly step aside to let a bullet pass right into a hated boss. Zayne knew he would. It's why Emery used him as a weapon instead of a shield. But when the paycheck stops along with your boss’ heartbeat… that’s a different matter.

His jacket was ripped away from him and leather cuffs were replaced by the bite of metal around his wrists.

He couldn’t suppress a shudder when the cold swept over his bare arms, when it stabbed right through his flimsy t-shirt. He glared up, teeth grit, hoping his boiling fury would serve to keep him warm. And to keep him from giving up.

“The only thing you have going for you right now, Zayne, is that I know this wasn’t your idea.” Emery slowly advanced on him now that he was safely contained on his knees, having cowardly kept a few steps back, slinking in the shadows to let his pawns fight Zayne to his knees, too afraid he would snap towards him. “So consider this your one and only chance to start talking.”

Zayne scoffed and turned away but a gloved hand snagged in his hair and pulled him back, forced him to look up.

Emery’s face of thunder told Zayne that not in a million years the guy could have seen this coming. So once the wince of pain had retreated, Zayne merely scoffed again, this time with a gloating smile.

“You should start preparing your exit instead of bothering with me.”

The hand in his hair slid away and he braced himself. Emery couldn’t throw a punch to save his life, hell, couldn’t make a dent in a pack of butter if he tried. So unsurprisingly, the gloved hand instead simply made a gesture to the man standing behind him.

And something akin to a brick to the face made his head snap to the side.

He couldn’t contain a grunt of pain, couldn’t fight off the haze that nearly paralyzed him for a few seconds. Then he shook it off and sat upright again, as if nothing had happened.

“Is it really that strange I want to see you go down?” he snarled.

“No. But your talk of your reporter looking into things and suddenly you want me to go on record to admit to plans of murder? Not that hard to see the full picture.” Emery’s face twisted into the condescending smile Zayne knew so well. “Not to mention you don’t have the brains to come up with such a plan yourself. You were even too stupid to bring it to a success.”

Before Zayne could growl out a reply, a bare hand curled in his hair again, pulled him up. Another fist blasted full in his stomach, followed up with a backhand to the face.

He doubled over, coughing, wheezing. Squeezing his eyes shut against the pain for the brief moment that he could conceal his face while leaning down.

His breath came in shallow shudders, pain and something he didn’t want to acknowledge making it hard to regain a steady rhythm. But he pulled himself up as far as he was allowed on his knees, straightening up and baring his torso as if he dared them to go for another.

Emery just watched, looking down on him, unmoved by the violence.

“So tell me, exactly, why I shouldn’t bother with you. Hm?”

“They know everything. Police will come looking for you soon.”

“Please.” A casual wave of his hand and Emery shook his head. “Don’t tell me you actually went along with your reporter’s fantasies?”

A cry of pain slipped free when a fist caught him right smack in the face. He felt his nose give, felt it break. Blood gushed down over his lips, dripped onto his knees. His chin drooped, making a red stain where it rested against his chest. Yet again, he forced himself back up.

And he spat out a glob of blood right in front of Emery’s polished shoes.

Didn’t matter that he missed. His nose was going to give him plenty of material to try again.

He hadn’t noticed one of the men had circled him and the kick from behind came out of nowhere.

His hands automatically moved, trying to catch himself. But he only managed to scrape the skin of his wrists as he yanked them against the unyielding metal. He barely managed not to smash his broken nose against the floor. Blood still spilled over his chin, staining the grey dust with red. Increased the splatter as he coughed hard when a kick to his side connected.

It became harder and harder to fight his way back to a kneeling position. A position that allowed him to hold on to the few fragments of pride he still had. He sure as hell wasn’t going to slump down on his knees in defeat. Doubled over in pain. Looking down. He wasn’t! Even if it hurt to breathe, hurt to strain his muscles, he was gonna get back up damnit!

Unexpectedly, and very unwelcome, the man behind him helped with that. Zayne felt something poke against his back, touch over the inside of his arm. He glanced back. Noticed the guy behind him standing on one leg. And before he could even think about taking advantage of that, an immense pressure tugged against his wrists.

 The handcuffs dug into his skin as the man stepped onto the chain and pressed down.

Zayne hissed, hid a cry of pain into a choked off grunt. He could already feel the blood drip down his wrists and he had no choice but to follow as he was leveraged up, shoulders ready to pop if he kept resisting. His back arched, his chest tilted up, his torso now even more vulnerable than before and—

He retched hard when a fist buried into his stomach again. Crushed against ribs. Into his side. A knee rested against his back, slowly moving down and it felt like his wrists were getting torn off. A hand slid under his chin, fingers bruised his jaw as the man behind kept him from slumping over. And only let go when he finally cried out after several more blows to his ribs.

He nearly collapsed right then and there. Going by how painful it was to even breathe right now, he was pretty sure something broke. The coughing really didn’t help either.

Something cold pressed under his chin and he went still. He followed up as the gun tilted his head until he looked into the dead cold eyes of his former boss.

“Mercy?” Emery asked, tipping the gun so the muzzle pressed into the underside of his chin.

“Fuck no,” Zayne growled.

The gun pulled away and something almost like a smile crossed Emery’s lips. “Good.”

A sudden bright light lit up the room and Zayne squinted, turning his head. Unwise. He didn’t see the fist coming this time and it nearly blew him right to the ground. It took all his core muscles to stay upright.

When he peeked a glance, he realised it came from the headlights of an approaching car, shining right through the entrance, engulfing Emery in light. His silhouette stood out against the beam, unmoving, the gun by his side, his coat merely rustling in the wind.

Then it died and he heard two doors slam shut. Heard some commotion, followed by eerie silence.

Two men marched in, dragging in a third caught in the middle of them. There was no resistance. The blond man in the middle didn’t move. He was draped over their arms letting them carry him, hands tied behind his back, head lolling, feet dragging. They dropped him without a care and he collapsed like a doll with its strings cut. And he didn’t move.

Zayne caught the whispered “no” that was about to emerge from his throat, but then the figure twitched to life. Jay groaned softly, rubbing his forehead against the concrete. And Zayne felt himself exhale, flooded with relief. He was still alive.

But… he wasn’t supposed to be here.

“If you don’t want to tell…” Emery sneered, “maybe he will.”

That actually made him laugh. And it earned him another punch. Didn’t need it; his ribs already punished him for that snort. “Yeah… good luck with that,” he said, revealing a bloodied grin.

Emery ignored him. Walked over to Jay who flinched back. Said something Zayne couldn’t hear. With him standing over the barely moving man, Zayne found himself leaning forward, wanting to snarl at him to leave him al—

A well-timed punch across the mouth shut him up. Another followed. Stay put, they said. Don’t move. Don’t interfere.

The whole left side of his face was pins and needles by now, battered and bruised. Would be nice if they’d stop slowly pulverizing his left cheekbone to dust and he found himself wishing they’d mix things up a little, with a backhanded slap or something.

“It doesn’t matter that he’s here,” he tried – a total lie – when Emery returned and loomed over him. “You can kill us both, but you’re still going down.” Jay’s words echoed in his mind.

“Well, you won’t be there to see it,” Emery said, still eerily calm. “Even if I were to keep you alive you wouldn’t.” He took a step back so they could both look at Jay, who by now was in full-blown panic mode. “Shame you didn’t kill him when I told you to. Now he gets to kill you instead.”

“Wha—"

“While it would be my pleasure to drive a bullet into your skull myself...” He twisted the gun in his hand, pressed it into the hand of one of his men, and considered Jay. “I think I’ll allow your victim to do the honours.”

Then his gaze shot back to Zayne, studying his trembling form, the swelling on his face, the pain in his eyes, and the fury that despite all of the former still blazed brightly.

“But maybe… a little payback is in order first.”

-

Tag list: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @hurtmebeautifully @rougenoirofthepurpleterror @susiequaz12 @whump-me-all-night-long @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @im-just-here-for-the-whump @restrainthenmaime @freefallingup13 @whatwasmyprevioususername @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @firewheeesky @redstainedsocks @hold-back-on-the-comfort @whumpawink @break-so-beautifully @approach-me-and-ill-cry @painsandconfusion @afabulousmrtake @wormwriting @soopytime @whumpedydump @pickleking8 @itsmyworld98 @whumpifi @painless-and-colourful

[girlfailurefelix]

ooh i have a really fun concept for glitchtrapped!tony and i think i might write it even though it may make some people upset until i fix said thing eventually

[pocket-aces]

Why is Argost geniunely so hard to draw?? Trying to draw a screencap sketch for this fic scene and how do people accurately draw this silly wet-paper-towel looking yeti man and make him look so close to canon.

[artheresy]

I am stuck in such a rough place at the moment

Because like right now, I want to rant about how I view Dan Feng and Yingxing’s potential dynamic based on my interpretation of Dan Feng and Yingxing given the bits of characterization of them that we have

But at the exact same time, I’m literally planning the Yingxing lifespan fic that would include all of this information conveyed through events and dialogue within the fic that paint the picture I have in my mind of their dynamic

However, also I’m gonna be starting the fic from when Yingxing is a literal child being picked up by Huaiyan so getting to the point when I can finally show off that dynamic is going to take SO long and I’m so impatient

I don’t know what to do ToT I need to scream about them, I love them