#feel you so hard on this one

[punch-love]

conflict anon here again and im SO GLAD you agree man. i think what really gets me about it is that i was specifically searching for conflict-packed fic and that's why i was so let down. i also feel like authors are entitled to write whatever they want forever but it just FEELS to me when im reading their fics like they would be happier writing something more domestic, and i want to find something where they're more feral.

i want the ID reveal and the relationship-confirming to cause MORE problems, hell i want them to get together and blow out into a massive argument and breakup then have breakup sex and get back together and then realize the sex didn't actually fix anything and then break up again but they can't stop being obnoxiously in each others space either way

but it feels like fic im trying to find like this fights the very concept of conflict so hard and wants one singular plot point to fix everything as quickly as possible without even walking me through the characters' insight as to HOW that fixed anything other than "problem over, let's be together forever now!" let alone the level of conflict that'd be so engaging like that with a million curveballs

im so aware its a personal taste thing its just been frustrating reading fic after fic after fic and finding so little of it. its no ones fault i can't find fic perfectly tailored to my tastes specifically, i just tend to ramble about my frustration. you and oprime and sci and a couple other authors are my favorite for writing it the way you do, she's not gonna die today will always be one of my favorite fics of all time because it gave me that ever persisting conflict driven by their obsessive need to stick together even when they're fighting every step of the way. i just always get into a longwinded ramble when this comes up and i was hoping youd like to share your thoughts so thank you for answering 🙏

I think this pairing kind of presents a unique challenge to writers (at least it did for me) that action and conflict is such a huge, borderline essential part of their canonical dynamic. If you're not used to writing/utilizing both physical and emotional conflict, your stories can often fall so, so flat for these two, specifically because that's the fuel that makes the engine run. The first true action scene I ever wrote was chapter two of love-punch, and I like, now I'm an action writer for life now (editing an action sequence as we speak) but I had to get out of my comfort zone because I realized that type of stories I wanted to write about them required them to beat the shit out of each other to work.

These two are definitely not problem solvers so much as shit starters. I feel like for them, the problems they actually have to solve are the ways they perceive each other (because both of them heavily project onto the other) and what that means long-term for their relationship - every other form of conflict, to me, is up for grabs forever when it comes to their relationship. The shit talking, ass kicking, and fire starting is what makes them, them.

I've said this before, but a lot of people write fanfiction as an exploration of their own ideal relationships. (which is absolutely fine) I think spideypool is a difficult sell though, for that specific fantasy, because their relationship operates on instability and violence primarily. I think most people aren't looking for a relationship where your communication consists of name-calling, beat downs, and moral differences so severe it makes you almost kill each other a lot. That, does not make a good, a good or healthy real world relationship but SUCH a fun fictional one. People are going to write their fantasies out, though, and that fantasy is that one kiss/one fuck/one confession creates relationship fueled bliss forever because many people, hate conflict - both experiencing and reading it. It sucks, if you're a reader who likes problems. I also always say this, but I encourage you to channel that energy into writing your own work. It's what I did, and it paid off so great for me because now I have 12 works specifically catered to my own personal needs exclusively. Fandom is always going to suck, but you can be the change! (and if you don't want to write, that's cool too, sometimes it's good just to get your qualms out into the world and find people who agree)

tagging @primewritessmut again so she can read your praise straight from the source.

It's a tough fandom if you really like their canonical dynamic more than their fanon one, I feel you man. I am always holding a prayer circle that more writers who like problems more than they like easy resolutions joins in and starts writing some real fucked up shit.

[nouverx]

Louise never heard about puppy love, cause they don't know that term in France 💔

---------------------------------------------

Lyrics are from Louise by TV Girl ! I was listening to it yesterday and that specific line on the second page screamed Alastor I just had to draw something about it

[autumn-may]

Mostly spoiler free summary of my viewing experience

[heartorbit]

figure skating set right now please. thanks

[seiwas]

cw: pro-hero bakugo, reader has boobs, kind of explicit/nsfw? idk i describe boobs, reader is smaller and shorter than bakugo, unedited sawry

bakugo's muscle tee looks as ill-fitting as it'll ever be draped over you.

there are reasons for this, perfectly founded and logical reasons for why that is—the main one being that, it's, well, his; two, maybe even three sizes larger than what it should be to fit you properly.

but, he can't stop staring, and there are reasons for that too—the main one being that, it's his, and yet, the only way he can ever imagine it now is when it's being worn by you.

your hips sway to the song you've been humming for the past five minutes. it's the same one, the chorus on a perpetual loop. he's sure it's the only part you know; you do this often enough that it's the only part he knows now, too.

the hem of his tee hits right at the top of your thighs, concealing just enough to tease, but he’s confident that if you reach up even the slightest bit for the cupboard overhead, there'll be nothing to hide.

he feels a little bit like a creep like this, watching as he stands in the middle of your shared living room, but it's impossible too look away—you've got to be doing this on purpose, right?

heat flares inside of him when you turn your body ever so slightly, the armhole of his muscle tee large enough to give him the clearest view of skin—

he gulps.

it's smooth, sloping just right; the side view of your under boob curves into its perfect shape and he can imagine it, feel—

(is this considered perving if he's been with you for years?)

the pan in front of you sizzles as you plop in god knows what. you pour in something from the side and wait, one hand propped on the hip you pop out. then, you pick up the pan, attempting to flip what's inside (probably a pancake, now that he thinks about it).

it’s hard to focus on what you’re cooking though, especially when all he sees is plump flesh jiggling, bouncing as you further agitate the pan.

he just got the pants of this suit readjusted, and now they're fucking tight.

bakugo normally runs hot; it’s kind of part of his dna. but this warmth is different, flushing him from head to toe. it creeps up the side of his neck, painting the tips of his ears a blooming red.

you turn around then, plopping the pancake on the plate atop the counter behind you.

"oh! you're done," you greet him with a smile. so. fucking. casually.

as if your tits aren't fucking peaking against the gray fabric of his tee.

as if you think he buys the fake innocence poorly concealing that sly, conniving look in your pretty eyes.

as if you aren't standing in front of him in his muscle tee, wearing nothing underneath it like you didn’t do this on purpose. like you don’t know what it fucking does to him.

his eyes squint suspiciously, deep vermillion staring straight into yours.

you tilt your head, the tips of your lashes kissing the top of your cheekbones as you blink. you reach for a bottle of honey.

“everything okay?” you ask, voice syrupy, sickeningly sweet.

your movements play in front of him languidly, the corner of your lips curling up slightly as you smirk. honey catches on your finger as you pop open the bottle cap.

he’s supposed to be out the door in five minutes if he wants to make it in time for a meeting at the agency. technically, he should already be there if he wants to keep up his track record of consistently being fifteen minutes too early.

but you start to approach him, rounding the kitchen island. there’s a narrow space between him and the slab of marble, but you slide into it like it was made for you.

he’s certain it was, from the way the tip of your nose brushes against his as you tiptoe. your tits are right fucking there, brushing against the skintight material of his suit.

there’s too much fucking fabric if you ask him, between cotton and spandex.

your grin widens, and he feels hot, the heat from his cheeks radiating.

then you whisper, still saccharine, “breakfast is ready,” before kissing him on the lips lightly. a short peck, soft in the way that promises more before you slip away, giggling in your retreat.

he huffs, watching you leave. his feet shift as he thinks.

five minutes, huh?

like hell he’s going to eat these damn pancakes for breakfast today.

[fairsweetlonging]

imagine if after the transmigration shen qingqiu became a combination of shen yuan and shen jiu, not in a "second person living in my head" kind of way, but a "this house is haunted and carries the echoes of the dead" kind of way; imagine shen yuan having nightmares about a house, a fire, a faceless boy behind a door he can't remember; imagine him having flashes of emotions he doesn't understand, rage at a name he doesn't recognize, helplessness when yue qingyuan apologizes for something he won't mention, nausea when ning yingying says the name "a-luo"; imagine parts of his own self have changed too, how he now likes bows in his hair, pretty flowers and flowing robes, but can no longer stand a stranger's touch, a man's touch, yet he longs for the brothels, but never sexually, only fondly, like there's something there he misses. there are many empty spaces in his heart where he feels something is missing

[eggwishing]

sans looking at ice or something

[benevolenterrancy]

Scholarly peak is catching up on recent literature

[mydaylight]

We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson: English covers

[inkskinned]

he says i hate everyone except you and that is addictive and that is kind of romantic and beautiful because you're young and you're kind of a sarcastic asshole too and you don't like bad boys, per say, but you don't really like good ones either. and you like that you were the exception, it felt like winning.

except life is not a romance book, and he was kind of being honest. he doesn't learn to be nice to your friends. he only tolerates your family. you have to beg him to come with you to birthday parties, he complains the whole time. you want to go on a date but - people are often there, wherever you're going. he's just so angry. about everything, is the thing. in the romance book, doesn't he eventually soften? can't you teach him, through your own sense of whimsy and comfort?

at first - you know introverts often need smaller friend groups, and honestly, you're fine staying at home too. you like the small, tidy life you occupy. you're not going to punish him for his personality type.

except: he really does hate everyone but you. which means he doesn't get along with his therapist. which means he has no one to talk to except for you. which means you take care of him constantly, since he otherwise has no one. which means you sometimes have to apologize for him. which means he keeps you home from seeing your friends because he hates them. you're the single exception.

about a decade from this experience, you'll type into google: how to know if a relationship is codependent.

he wraps an arm around you. i hate everyone except you. these days, you're learning what he's actually confessing is i have very little practice being kind.

[dizzybizz]

KAEYA BIRTHDAY ??? ?? i love you mr alberich sir i love you oh so so so much.

uh dialogue for this one but more legible under the cut (and a messy ragbros page)

Klee: Kaeya! Come down here! Kaeya: Oh? heh. What is it, Spark Knight?

Klee: Happy Birthday! It is today? Right? I even double-checked with Albedo and everything but I don't know... Klee: It's a Calla Lily! You like those, right? Kaeya: I certainly do! Thank y- Klee: Oh. Klee: OK OK OK- Kaeya: Hm? Klee: Kaeya you have to promise to not tell Master Jean about this one! Kaeya: You can count on me to keep my lips sealed.

Klee: OK! Close your eyes- eye- and hold out your hands! Kaeya: Mhm! Klee: OK! You can open them! TA-DA~!

Klee: I made a bomb for you! It even has an eyepatch! He can look after you when I'm somewhere else. Take good care of him! Oh yeah- He explodes if you- Kaeya?

Kaeya: Thank you Klee! Thank you very much! Klee: You're VERY welcome Kaeya!

a lil ragbros too.... kaeya and his red siblings amirite (bursts into tears).. also i am so obsessed with chibi diluc saying "bring em in..."

[voltaical-art]

im in agony. a little self indulgent but I think wyll deserves to be told he's loved and have a small breakdown about it

[electronicmail]

Firefox-official vs electronicmail

Hydrogen bomb vs coughing baby

okay come up with a better idea then. firefox-official is gone asshole it’s electronicmail or nothing

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I *need* to get pregnant by him.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[deadpoets]

DEAD POETS SOCIETY (1989) dir. Peter Weir

[ozuzo]

🎮 Multitasking 🎮 (my part of an art trade with @hivepixels 🖤)