#but I’m not sure if that’s accurate

[writingwife-83]

It’s been like two and a half months since I updated Look at Me, and I know explanations aren’t required when it comes to fic writing and posting, but sometimes it just makes me feel better to give one ok lol. First of all, my schedule changed quite a bit since September, so I think that threw me off. But second, now that I have gotten back to some writing, I ended up doing 2 chapters in a row for the multi chapter in my other fandom. I got going and then I was kinda in a groove with that plot and wanted to take advantage of it. I’m still in that groove tbh. In fact, I’m toying with the idea of just finishing that fic first (it only has a couple chapters left now) before I get back to reylo. Idk, I’m not sure yet but I guess I’ll just have to see how it goes.

Anyway, for anyone who’s been following and enjoying the fic I appreciate the ongoing patience not that I think this is all you’re thinking about, I know you all have lives too 😆 and I hope I won’t keep you waiting too much longer. I do at least have the remainder of the fic outlined already, so when I do get back to it I likely won’t have much to figure out. I still love reylo in this au so much and can’t wait to actually complete this story. On that note, I’ll just leave this here since they’re so pretty-

[chloesimaginationthings]

The secret ending in FNAF into the pit..

[jjkyaoi]

the headcanon of regulus just being able to cry on command is horrifying but also the funniest thing i’ve ever fucking heard. like i imagine regulus is hanging out with the marauders, post black brothers reconciliation, and him and sirius are bickering and sirius JOKINGLY goes “well it’s not MY fault it’s impossible for you to show any emotion” and regulus blinks. and then just fully starts sobbing.

and james and remus and peter are all like ?!?!?! what the FUCK . RIGHTFULLY SO. and james’ heart is hurting so bad because he’s never seen regulus cry before and he’s trying to comfort him and hold him and regulus, (who is gay and a little shit) is just letting himself be hugged and letting james pet his hair or whatever and remus is like. sirius what the fuck apologize to your brother??????? because sirius has been sitting there the entire time unmoving and he just raises his eyebrows, completely unimpressed and deadpan when he goes, “you guys do know he’s faking right”. and then when remus and james both are like HUH??? torn between bewildered and angry with this reaction, regulus just extracts himself from james, face completely neutral but with tears drying on his cheeks, no sign of the heaving, hyperventilating sobs he’d fallen into literally a second ago and says “i win”. it terrifies peter so bad that he can’t look him in the eyes for a week

[tacit-semantics]

Fuck it. Crochet cartilaginous stingray skeleton

[rendevok]

“Take my hand” a comic for NaruMitsu Week 2023

day 1 - lies & secrets - 2 - 3 - 4

[drunkeddiediaz]

ALREADY????? LETS FUCKING GOOOOO

[sweetmapple]

Mostly Hiring manager, but HR manager and PR manager too

[prettyboychik]

“Noooo don’t be mean to the Jews!!!! They’ve just been soooo brainwashed 🥺 they were raised in a cult and fed propaganda 🥺 you need to help deprogram them 🥺” Have you considered Shutting The Fuck Up?

Do you think other groups talking about bigotry against them only do so because they’ve been lied to and tricked into thinking it exists? Or do you believe them when they talk about their experiences? Why do you treat us differently? Why is it so hard for you to admit that antisemitism is a real and massive issue (especially in your leftist/queer/etc spaces)?

It’s simultaneously demonizing and infantilizing us. Some of us are Evil Wicked Sinners, and some of us are Poor Lost Souls. And the Poor Lost Souls will be led astray by the Evil Wicked Sinners unless you, a Good Pure Righteous Christian Leftist, help us See The Light. And when we push back, when we say you are wrong, you’ll get angry and hateful and violent. Suddenly, we were never a Poor Lost Soul, just an Evil Wicked Sinner in disguise. Suddenly, you can justify any manner of cruel or hateful behavior against us. Same old shit that’s been happening for centuries, just with a fresh coat of paint.

[mochidoodle]

happy birthday, namimori boy 💜🦔🐥

[bytesyzd]

thought I should post my main ocs refs & their brief descriptions here!! a proper introduction to these two ^_^

[mumblesplash]

as if he needed more ways to be everywhere at once

[thisiswhereikeepdcthings]

I’m beginning to think I should start keeping a list of the fandoms I accidentally stumbled into at some point before binging fics for a month straight and having it take over the ao3 reading portion of my life. Like yes, the last 27 pages of my ao3 history ARE of this fandom I knew nothing about a month ago, as a matter of fact.

[transk0vsky]

Another stupid text post meme I made

[serialsunset]

(Comparatively) historically accurate Charlotte!

[winn-wynn]

Lily: Go fuck yourself.

James : Come over here and fuck me yourself you coward!

[unknownarmageddon]

      Killer watched Cross from where he was sat, slumped, legs up against his chest, pressed into a corner of the crumbling building they sought shelter in. He rest his head on the wall beside him. Cross was tending to the fire he had gotten going, and fiddling with his backpack, a handful of feet in front of Killer.

       The fire’s light and warmth barely reached Killer from where he was, and so he was cold and shrouded by shadow. He watched its flames dance, but really he was focused on Cross in the corner of his vision. Cross didn’t look at him. Maybe he glanced up at him, once, twice, but Killer acted like he didn’t notice. There was so much distance between them now, had been for a painfully long time. He felt it. It made him so tired. 

        Killer felt weighted down, heavy. Sluggish. Like he just wanted to sink into the concrete below him. Cross wasn’t there to pull him out now. 

          Eventually, he watched as Cross killed the fire. Darkness swelled to fill the building, and Killer could only barely see the vague outline of Cross’ body now. Killer shifted to a slightly more comfortable position, assuming this was Cross getting ready for bed.

     But then Cross didn’t move. Instead he pulled something white, about the size of his head, from his backpack. Killer couldn’t quite make out what it was, but he saw Cross mess with it. In the silence that came with the dark, the sound of plastic clicking came to him. 

      Cross was oddly gentle with it, Killer noticed, as he carefully, slowly, did what Killer could only assume was inserting batteries into it. 

    Batteries? Couldn’t be. Those were a precious resource now. Batteries meant electricity, and electricity was as valuable as life. People sought them like water in a desert. Especially since by now, they had all either corroded or been snatched up by other scavengers. Where in the hell did Cross get batteries. And how long had he been looking. 

      Killer sat up just a bit straighter, squinting at this object Cross held. What was it. 

       Cross stood. Killer heard the brushing of his clothes. He stepped over toward Killer, eyes not fully on him. He paused a hesitant couple feet away, and when Killer didn’t react, he sat down beside him. But not too close.

       Killer now saw that the white thing was a short cylinder with a navy blue dome protruding from the top. All of it sat on the bottom half of a cone that stuck out underneath. It was placed in front of Killer, then Cross pressed a button on its side.

     Stars erupted from the dome, spewing out from every side and scattering across the ceiling and the walls. They seemed to stretch on forever, reaching every corner light could. The skeletons were instantly illuminated by a soft blue-white light; Killer saw stars dancing and spinning on Cross’s face, and he became visible to him again. 

     Killer’s soul almost exploded. He felt it flare, spark, like a fresh wildfire. He was surprised his ribcage didn’t cave in. He wrapped his arms around his legs, stared with wide eyes, tracing the ceiling. He couldn’t fucking believe it.

     Stars. Almost proper stars, too, not the triangular ones in children’s star projectors. Maybe there were even real constellations in this thing. 

      It was beautiful. Christ, it was fucking beautiful. It felt unreal. And to think, all this was held in that little bit of plastic in front of him. 

      Killer could almost make himself believe it was the real thing. He could almost pretend the dark dusty concrete above him was the night sky, he could almost pretend these stars weren’t powered by just batteries. That the bomb-smog had finally settled and the stars had come back. It was damn close, anyway.

God, when was the last time he saw stars? It felt like he was a kid again, truly looking up at the sky at night for the first time, when everything was new and wonderful. 

“…I.. I remember you saying how much you missed the stars.“ Cross spoke up softly. “Figured this would be the next best thing.” 

     Killer felt his cheeks grow wet, and his vision was blurred by the dark tar now pouring from his sockets. He wiped at it, if only to keep seeing the specs of light. 

      This star projector was a promise. They both knew it the moment it turned on. It was a promise. A whisper. A promise of how Cross cared so much it almost hurt. A promise of their survival. Not just physical, literal, survival, but their survival. Together. A promise of them getting out of this pit, bridging the distance, refounding the proximity. A reiteration of all the nights they spent sharing warmth in the same sleeping bag. 

        Fuck holy matrimonies and rings, none of that mattered now in the end of the world. Not in the same way. But this projector….. Cross had seen Killer mourning the stars and given them back to him. Cross had fucking given him the stars. 

God, he had even found batteries. Batteries. 

   At some point Cross had moved closer. Killer didn’t care. He leaned on his shoulder, and his soul burst all over again from feeling his warmth on him after however long it’d been. It was a warmth that made him want to just melt into him and not ever think about the world. 

     Maybe things would be okay. It’d take some more time, but maybe it would end up okay. 

apocalyptic kross au belongs to me, @psycho-chair, and @denieatsart