#gave myself carpal tunnel

[sayonara-sailor]

Ghost x Cowboy Bebop

[candyredterezi143]

argenthill ouran au because im silly :3

[chronicowboy]

tomorrow will always and forever now be today (tomorrow is our always and forever) | 43k

"Think I can get a hug from my best man on my wedding day?" he asks, quietly hopeful in a way that makes Eddie want to tear off his skin.

"Sure," Chris replies with a shrug, turning to throw Eddie a cheeky grin. "Dad, Buck needs a hug."

Two things happen at once then: Eddie has to plaster on a smile authentic enough to convince the one person on this planet that knows him inside out—except he doesn't really have to fake his smile, not at first, because of number two—he sees groom-Buck for the first time. And groom-Buck is every bit as beautiful as Eddie might have imagined him over the years. Happy eyes bright and blue, pink lips stretched wide in a beaming smile, cheeks flushed pink with joy, hair carefully styled and stunningly golden in the morning sunlight. He's half-dressed too, tux jacket still on the hanger on the back of the chair, so Eddie gets an unbarred view of Buck's white shirt stretched taut over his biceps, shoulders, abs.

For a moment, Eddie falls into the greatest betrayal his brain has ever laid out for him, imagining that he might have got to see Buck like this for the first time from the other end of the aisle if he'd just been brave enough to—

"I think he meant you, kid," Eddie teases as he drops their suits to the couch. He widens his stance, so Jee can run through his legs and evade another of Chimney's grab attempts, then he ruffles Christopher's curls as a steadying act before he's suddenly in front of Buck. And he tries not to think about the pathway cleared through the living room by Jee's chase, or the fact that they're under the archway between the kitchen and the dining table, or the knowledge that Bobby is an ordained officiant where he stands behind them. "Hey, Buck," he says softly, smiling genuinely now because this is Buck.

"Hey, Eds," Buck murmurs back, and it's the first time since they'd promised to have each other's backs that Eddie can't quite decipher the emotions making Buck's voice thick.

Eddie wraps him in a hug then, careful and detached as he can manage, but it's Buck in his arms, warm and alive and his for just a few more hours. He doesn't let himself hold Buck's hips like he used to before—before he'd realised why he'd wanted to hold Buck's hips so tightly—just splays his fingers over Buck's back and tries to focus on the soft cotton under his palms rather than the way Buck's temple rests so perfectly against his. Eddie stays there, for too long probably, fingers digging in too tight possibly, and squeezes his eyes shut when they start to water. He's clinging, and he tries not to think about how it feels a little like Buck is clinging to him too.

"Ah," Eddie huffs as he pulls away, taking two steps back just to be safe. He catches Maddie's eyes on him then, sadder than they should be for the happy tears she'd been crying just before he'd got here, and Eddie wonders if her big sister omniscience is working on him too. "Come on, Buckley. Got to make an honest man out of you sooner rather than later."

"Whilst we're on the topic," Chim intervenes, a wriggly Jee on his hips with two shoes on—finally. "Are we sure he should be wearing white?"

(OR: eddie gets trapped in a time loop on the day buck marries natalia)

@butchdiaz @danielsousa @shitouttabuck @alyxmastershipper @diazass @911-on-abc @folk-fae @stagefoureddiediaz @jeeyuns @piningeddiediaz @robsumagpie @athenagranted @prince-buck-diaz @eddiediaztho @carryingbears @ladydorian05 @made-ofmemories @sherlockcrossing @violet-rot @binickmiller @rainbow-nerdss @thatnamewill-probably-change @ducksbellorum @organizedstardust @mangacat201 @faggotjoness @sibylsleaves @kaseysgirl86-blog @daughter-of-winterfell @thisyearsloveisnow @goodiecornbread @wordsofdiana @thehumongouskargomice @xandromedan @acebuddie @girlnamedjesse @pirrusstuff @angstydiaz @haradrimculture @pinky-promisesss @starlingbite @dontneedmyheart @spaceprincessem @shortsighted-owl @buck2eddie @diazly

[bloodysparklez]

cinematic parallels (a continuation of my four-year-old tribute to the reason i watched promare)

i think laurent would benefit greatly from having the ability to set fires with his mind but unfortunately i do not think galo would survive capri's political landscape

[averlym]

no one would notice if i ever vanished // if bodies could sustain // this never-ending army // like blood pumping through a vein

(click for better resolution!)

:OOO hello. anyway since these are all posters i'd have in an ideal world or smth and i'd like to store the high res versions somewhere,,, here's the google drive folder for them? hehe ''

close up!

[the-toxinz-arcade]

misc set 4

gender bundle 31/31 -- misc set 4/4 (everything else i didn't/couldn't categorise)

sanguiseon ..! (sangui-seon) 

a term for when one's gender (and/or oneself) has been & always will be bloody/related to blood. ₊˚⊹

sleepcomfyccic ..! (sleep-comfy-c-c-ick) 

a gender identity related to laying late at night watching your comfort creator/streamer/etc, trying your best to stay awake but they're so comforting and it's so late that it'd be so easy to just close your eyes... ₊˚⊹

solseon ..! (sol-see-on) 

a term for when one's gender (and/or oneself) has been & always will be sunny/related to the sun. ₊˚⊹

styleyezedoodleclusteric ..! (stylized-doodle-cluster-ick) 

a xenogender identity related to massive clusters of doodles of stylized eyes. ₊˚⊹ styl-eye-zed + doodle + cluster + ic 。˚ ⭒

styleyezedoodlic ..! (stylized-doodle-ick) 

a xenogender identity related to stylized doodles of eyes. ₊˚⊹ styl-eye-zed + doodle + ic 。˚ ⭒

trinkethoarder ..! (trinket-hoarder) 

a genderhoarder term in which one hoards/collects their genders like fun little trinkets. ₊˚⊹

[thechiton]

magazine collage

[whatanightmaregrinch]

John Hancock x Fem!Sole Survivor- holy matron

{{ TW: Drug use, biblical references ig?, intense feelings}}

In Hancock’s opinion, taking up with the vault-dweller had saved him. Feeling like a fraud was no good, but walking around Goodneighbor made it worse. It only fed his increasing self-loathing, and then in turn, his chem habits. He spent most of his time either in his office absolutely fucked out of his face, or stamping out get-rich-quick schemes he would have given an arm and a leg to be a part of with people and ghouls he would have been glad to call his partners, and it was weighing on him. If he wasn’t concerned about the threats to his people, it was his own personal demons that taunted him. So many times he’d thought about taking just one too many Day-tripper, just to see how close he could get to the edge without going over (although he was more than sure that if he did tumble off of the edge, he wouldn’t have given a shit anyway).

Constantly grappling with his inner self; he felt like two men consistently battling for the right to live, the stronger of the two dictating his actions at the time. The coward who he desperately wanted to bury, urging him to just hide under his covers and take as much jet as he could not to feel anything, the degenerate who’d allowed a fellow drifter to meet their end at the hands of Vic and his boys- and the ghoul he’d forcibly become. The ghoul who treated his citizens with care, the ghoul who would stand up for what was right no matter the cost, famous for his freedom loving attitude and warm hospitality. He figured he’d get a little soul searching out of their travels together initially, but he ended up discovering a whole different way to be. Sole Survivor’s bottomless confidence and kindness had revived the way he thought about the Commonwealth and the people in it, and quite frankly, it had scared him. He’d never expected such a change to blossom within him, and it ignited an intense fire. The type of fire that had shown him he was thinking too small in terms of personal goals. This woman had somehow managed to co-ordinate a bunch of tattered strangers into becoming a trusted outfit (a feat, considering the name “Minutemen” often left a shitty taste in people’s mouths), all the while searching for her son and taking the fucking Institute on. If she could do that all at the same time, he could at least try and get his shit together.  When they woke in the mornings, he was more excited to start the day with her, not terrified, high, and preparing for that day to be his last in the wastelands. Maybe some things would never change- like his habitual chem use, but he didn’t force Buffout and Mentats down his throat as soon as his eyes cracked open just to deal with the thought of being alive, most days. Sometimes it was bad, and he felt like he couldn’t move from the pile he’d put himself into, but she would always be there to lend him a hand, out of the dark hole and into the light again. He was sure the Commonwealth had brought forth an angel, a dazzling burst of sunshine on his radiation-clouded day. She listened to everything and anything he had to say, and the more he talked, revealing the sorer parts of himself, the more he realised the fondness he had for her was developing into something more tangible, something real. She had too many shining qualities for him not to be attracted to her- and like a moth to a flame, he was sucked in.  Guilt ate at him most days after he realised how he felt about her. He felt like he was betraying the trust his friend had placed in him to travel with her as a companion- his widowed friend, no less. She didn’t really talk about her spouse, Nate, only if something small came up- like if a song came on that he used to like, or when they’d eat sugar bombs and she would smile a sort of painful smile, recounting how she’d throw them at Nate for him to catch in his mouth. There was a part of Hancock that detested Nate- not for loving Sole, but for being such a standard of man that John could never hope to compare himself too. It was unfair of him to do that, he knew that Nate wasn’t the one stopping him from being a better man, but when it came to Sole, Hancock wished he could be nothing short of perfect for her. For starters, he wasn’t smooth-skinned the way she was, and whilst he had confidence, it wasn’t that much confidence. She was ethereal at times, eyes straight from a pre-war film actress that burned into the back of his eyelids. He was well ... He was John Hancock, the guy who’d purposely taken a radiation drug knowing it was about to fuck him up and turn his skin into a pile of brahmin shit, just so he didn’t have to look at his own face anymore. Cause a girl’s gonna find self-mutilation sooo attractive. Sole wasn’t the type to judge on appearance- he was sure of that, but he couldn’t be sure that he was what she wanted, and losing the close bond he had with her over something like this scared him to silence regarding his feelings. He promised himself he wouldn’t read too much into how she acted and responded to him, he knew well enough that she was grieving and probably interpretated his actions as simple kindness, but he couldn’t help the way his chest seized when she interacted with him of her own accord- a guiding hand on his forearm when he was about to turn in the wrong direction, a quick but joyous hug when they received good news- his brain ate those memories up and played on repeat for him to experience, over and over again in the back of his mind. He was starting to feel like a teenager around her, and it was fuckin’ embarrassing. He was the king of ghouls, not some scared teen attracted to the girl next door. She was far from that type of lady anyways, hard to picture the woman as innocent when he’d seen her take a Raider’s face off with a hunting rifle at point-blank range. “Hancock?” the angel whispered at them from across the campfire. He immediately gave his full attention, not that she’d demanded it.  “Mm?” he made a noise in reply, and her smile washed over him like a sunrise, beautiful and life-giving. He’d bask in her glow for an eternity if she would only let him.  “Do you think the Greentop Nursery folks will be okay? I’m worried the turrets won’t be enough.” She confessed, patting the ground next to her to search for her cigarette carton and flip-lighter. He almost felt amused at her line of questioning, he was sure that those people were safer than the dickheads in Diamond City with how many defences she’d created and repaired when they visited. “Between the turrets and the traps ya’ set up? More than okay. We’re not too far from ‘em though, could always check in tomorrow.” He offered, and she seemed to turn his suggestion over in her mind as she lit the cigarette, and enhaled. “Alright, We’ll check tomorrow- I just wanna make sure the Greenskins stay gone this time, that’s all.” She said, idly glancing at their surroundings, as if the very mention of a Super-Mutant would cause one to come crashing out of the bushes at them, Mini-Nuke in hand. He stared at her for a moment too long, and she gestured at her face. “Something there?” She rubbed at her cheeks, paranoid for dust marks or otherwise. He laughed, shaking his head.” No, but if there was i’d probably just let it sit, see how long it took ya’ to notice.” She rolled her eyes at him, throwing a rock at him, which just bounced off the tree he was sat near, and settled by a puddle on the floor. “Nice, real nice. What if ya’ took me eye out? What then? I’d be a one-eyed ghoul and it’d be your fault.” He sniffed, playfully. She actually considered the prospect, and grinned as she puffed at her cigarette. “I’d lead you around, tell everyone you lost your eye trying to chat up a Deathclaw.” She mused, exhaling some smoke, and he snorted. “Ya’d still lead me around though, feel like I win there.” He pointed out, and she grunted in reply. He grinned, he loved that noise. It was an old-man habit she had, unable to admit she was wrong, but not proud enough to dismiss him completely. He fished around in his pocket for his Berry Mentats, and pilfered two for himself, throwing them back like they were shots of whiskey. She spotted the box, and sweetly batted her eyelashes at him, silently asking for some. He rose a (long-gone) brow, and held the box up in the light the fire provided, so they could both see the faded design. “Ya’ want some of these? I dunno..” He pretended to be all beat up about her asking, masquerading as a ghoul who truly cared about his chem supply. “I just feel like keepin’ ‘em all too myself.” He continued, eyes trailing to hers to see what she would do with his defiance. She processed the moment, and a playful expression touched her features.  She suddenly shrieked at the top of her lungs, pointing over his shoulder with a terrified face, and to her credit, it startled him enough for him to turn and look. She scrambled forward, hand shooting out to take the Mentats from him, but he was faster- leaning back and holding them up and out of reach, arching away from her. “I’ve been around too long for that to work on me, nice try though.” He taunted, waving the packet around. She huffed, but quickly went in for another attack. Hancock felt himself involuntarily gasp when Sole launched herself at him with such force that it sent both of them toppling to the ground, her arms coming to pin his forearms to the floor, causing his tricorn hat to fly off, abandoned next to them on the floor. He was vaguely aware of the way her legs straddled his stomach, but he couldn’t even form thoughts to react, especially when a smile so wolfish and greedy eclipsed her that it had his brain factory reset. He was too close to her, the fire illuminated her in a warm and inviting glow, she was so close he could count her eyelashes if he wanted too, and oh how he wanted. He wanted to know everything about her, wanted to know what made her smile when she felt down, wanted to know what made her mad; how he could make her happy again. “I’ve been alive for over two-hundred years, John. Nothing works on me, either.” She taunted him, proud at their role reversal. All he could do was watch, wide-eyed as she shifted her weight, easily grabbing the box of Mentats from him (like he’d ever put up a fight). She tipped one out into her hand, and dropped it into the back of her throat, swallowing her ‘stolen’ chems with a slight grimace at the taste. Hancock was sure this was as close as he’d ever get to heaven, watching her felt like observing a miracle up close. He watched in a trance as her attention finally turned back to him, completely enraptured by her movements. He watched as she analysed him, and she opened her mouth to talk to him, but whatever it was that she wanted to say slipped away as her pupils expanded, eating away at her irises until they were tiny slivers, pupils gorging themselves on any light that strayed too close. She shuddered, allowing the chem to sink into her. This felt holy, her grace flooding him. He felt naked, stripped bare of his corporal form, for her to view all of his sins underneath her. It was too much, too fast. His brain reeled at her perfume; tones of amber and sandalwood, and his body reacted before his brain had chance to sign off on the idea. In true John Hancock fashion, he told her the one thing he absolutely shouldn’t have.  “I might be in love with you.” he stumbled out, and he froze when his thought process caught up with the rest of his body, gasping and furious about being left out of the decision, waving a shiv at him. She stared at him in silence, processing his words, and he sucked in a breath when she didn’t back away from him, but instead increased the amount of weight she was using to lean on him. He was pinned underneath her now, not that he could consider moving- the gaze she fixed him with was intense, he felt like he could set ablaze any minute if she willed it.  “You’re either in love with me, or you aren’t. You don’t maybe love someone.” Her words burned his ears, and he trembled as his brain, riddled with Mentats, tried to summon a response. “I do love you.” He managed, heart beating in his ears. She leaned closer to him, absorbing his amended confession with a furrow of her brow. “Tell me again.” She demanded quietly, and John experienced her in a way she’d never allowed before. Her face was flushed, revealing her excitement- her eyes held a far-away desperation, a need to feel wanted, to feel loved. Hancock didn’t give a shit if anyone overhead him, he held her gaze as he told her again.  “I love you.” She didn’t ask, but he continued to repeat the words to her like they were a prayer, and each time he said them, she got a little closer, a little more relaxed by his devotion to her. He would become a martyr for her cause, no matter the personal cost. She finally closed the gap, and they shared a kiss. It was a little rough, the Mentats in both of their systems meant they couldn’t afford the same grace they’d have sober. She pulled away, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and her lips remained there for a moment to whisper to him.  “Love me, John. Love me for as long as you can.”  

[pepprs]

all my attacks for art fight 2023!!! team werewolves ftw 🐺🎨✨

[bbrrambo]

once i can afford an ipad wih a pen, its really over 4 u hoes

[lifblogs]

I have all 3 boop badges! Woohoo! I think I did over 500 boops in 15 minutes. It is doable.

[lovelyamneris]

“Claire still can’t trust her anymore.

Because Nina Martin is dangerous.”

- sneak peak of my new hoa OC chapter I’m posting later tonight <3

[thetrevisostabber]

99% of the time when you go ooough i'm gonna HAND-DRAW THIS! IT'LL BE SO COOL AND LOOK AMAZING!, you need to go to the assets store and find a brush immediately.

[eurydicees]

some thoughts on writing in 2022...

i wrote fewer fics than i did in 2021, but the majority were longer!

that resulted in more words, but in general less readership and interaction, i think, looking at ao3 kudos/reads statistics :(

i have sooooo many drafts....

under drafts, i counted two fics i'm working on for bangs--those will be published in 2023 even though the majority of them were written in 2022. it'll screw up my 2023 stats lol but that's ok

the discrepancy between ao3 + tumblr + wips = total & fics total is for 7,619 words of zine fics / 4 ~bonus~ fics!

for zines, i wrote for the studio ghibli x haikyuu zine (finished and released), the haikyuu rain-themed zine (not released yet), and two for the ohshc 20th anniversary zine (not released yet, but pre-orders are closed). this was all so so SO exciting--i'd never written for an actual zine before, and it was a super fun experience. i hope to keep doing it in the future :P

i didn't write much original work this year, especially compared to how much original work i wrote in 2021 (131,045 words), so i didn't put that number on the graphic. but overall i wrote 36,330 words of original stuff :D

overall, i'm super proud of all the work i've done this year and i'm so excited to go into next year and keep writing. thank you all for reading--i appreciate your support so much; it means the world to me. happy new year ♡

[clawcakes]

fate sings a song. wanted to try animating them cus theyre weird

[anothergolddustwoman]

I need someone to pull my arm until my wrist, elbow, and shoulder pops.