#i am just restless

[helpimstuckinafandom]

I actually feel like i'm losing it I only started playing bg3 on friday/saturday and I am in withdrawl from just one day without it

[gods-perfect-idiots]

was overcome with the urge to draw "wade tenderly caressing logan's face while he's Feeling Big Angsty Stuff" and then the parallel urge to do a follow-up of "logan kissing wade's hand/holding onto him for dear life"

(anyway hope you like it - I have been looking at this for too long and so of course I hate it now 🫠 art is hard guys lol)

some details below the cut because I am happy with some small aspects - still really enjoying the painting part of doing Wade's scars for example (thanks again @woof-verine for that inspo it is just baked into my psyche now, and also for being a forever enjoyer of pointy ears Logan - sorry couldn't quite get the fangs in this time but they are there trust me!!)

ps. was listening to She Calls Me Back by Noah Kahan for this one. idk it just hits for me in my poolverine-addled state lol

[coquelicoq]

Xiao Heng had managed to get his very inebriated wife into their room without carrying her, but only just. He had in fact tried to pick her up at one particularly tricky part of the hallway (a lip in the floor had threatened to trip her up, literally and figuratively), but she had insistently pushed at his arms until he let her get back to her very important business of navigating around the obstacle. Now he led her to the bed and sat her on the edge, hovering for a moment to make sure she wasn't about to fall over, then settled on the floor to take off her shoes.

He had just gotten the first one off when she spoke. "Hey," she said.

He looked up. A'Li was staring at him, a bit glassy-eyed, a furrow between her brows. "Yes?" he said, and when a reply was not immediately forthcoming, added, "How are you feeling?" She needed to drink some water, though he had been hoping to get her in a more stable position first before going in search of a pitcher.

"You," she said suspiciously. "Whatchu doin' down there?" She squinted. "Gongzi," she tacked on after a moment of consideration.

Gongzi? That was a new one. "I'm taking off your shoes," he ventured, and held up the one in his hand. "Since I think it may be beyond your capabilities at the moment."

The brow-furrow deepened. "Your face," she said.

She wasn't always the most eloquent drunk, but she'd get to a sentence eventually. "My face?" he prompted.

There was a pause as she inspected him with half-lidded eyes. "'s good," she said finally.

Waiting for her to make a sentence had been worth it. "You like my face?" he said, delighted. His wife was a delightful drunk.

"'s good face," she said, sounding defensive. Her lips were turning down at the corners. Adorable.

"I'm glad you think so," he said, still feeling, despite all the intervening years, just as warm as he had that night in the rain in Luyang.

She must have found something about his reaction unsatisfying because her frown deepened. "'s'not that good," she said. "Not as good as th' face--" A hiccup cut her off and she startled, losing her train of thought. She stared at him in surprise. "What?" she said, as if he had been the one interrupted.

This would be the perfect opportunity to move the conversation in a more productive, sleep-adjacent direction, if he weren't dying to know whose face his wife liked better than his. "You were saying, you've seen better faces than mine, apparently," he said. He was not pouting, because he wasn't a baby.

"Yeah," she said, emphatically. "Face of Xiao Heng. M' husban'."

"Your…husband?" he said slowly. "Your husband Xiao Heng? You like his face better than my face?"

"So what?" she said, belligerent. "'m allowed. He's mine."

"That he is," Xiao Heng agreed, nonplussed. She must be drunker than he thought. Drunk enough to forget who he was--but thankfully not so drunk that she forgot he existed. Theoretically. Somewhere.

"Well," she said, seeming appeased. "You got good eyebrows."

"You like my eyebrows, huh?" He raised them at her.

"Yeah," she said, jabbing a finger in their general direction. He caught it before she could poke out his eye. "Nice an' hairy."

"You like my eyebrows because they're…hairy?" he asked, but she had already moved on, her gaze now trained hazily on his mouth. "What?" he said, curious to know what she would have to say about that part of his anatomy, but she just kept staring. "You are so drunk," he teased.

"'m not," she said, frowning again. She pushed at his hand until he released her finger.

"No? You're totally sober right now? Could have fooled me," he said.

"Not drunk. Don't get drunk," she said. "Not safe."

Now it was his turn to frown. "How come it's not safe?" he said, though he wasn't sure why he was asking. He already knew the answer.

"People can do stuff. To you," she said, enunciating carefully, "when you are incap…sasitaded."

"Incapacitated," he said automatically.

"Sapsidated," she agreed, nodding her head, then stopped immediately and clutched her temples. He put his hands on her thighs to steady her, then thought better of it. She thought he was some stranger, after all.

She squinted at him again. "You're not gonna, though," she said matter-of-factly.

"Not gonna what?"

"Do stuff to me."

"That's right," he said. "I won't do anything. How could you tell?"

"Just know these things," she said loftily.

"Oh?" He smiled, relieved and endeared. She felt safe with him, even when she didn't know why. Teasing, he asked, "But how do you know these things?"

"Tell you a secret," she said, leaning forward precariously. He caught her by the shoulders, propping her up. In the whisper-shout of drunks everywhere, she said, "'m a very. Smart. Cookie."

He loved her. To the ends of the earth, he loved her. "Is that so?" he said, and thought about how much he would kiss her in the morning. She would be cranky, and her breath would be horrible, and he would kiss her and kiss her and kiss her. "And that's a secret?"

"What's a secret?" she asked curiously, and he laughed, and she glared at him, and he felt his love for her like a balloon about to burst inside of him. "I think it's bedtime for you, sober-niangzi," he said.

If looks could kill they'd be scraping pieces of him off the walls tomorrow. "Sober-furen," she corrected, and then added, "'s'not for you to decide," managing to sound imperious despite her drooping eyelids and the fact that only his intervention was keeping her from faceplanting onto the floor.

"That's true," he said. "That was just this one's humble opinion. What does sober-furen think? Perhaps she'd like to play a game of Go?"

"'m very good at Go," she said, and then, emphatically, "very good. Better'n you def'nitely."

"Yes, I believe that," he said. "Well, you would be doing me a great favor not to challenge me to a game of Go this evening. My ego is very fragile, you know."

"Yeah, I bet," she said, much more confidently than he thought was warranted, then she smiled at him. "'s'okay," she said, reaching out and haphazardly patting the side of his topknot. "Least you got good eyebrows."

Xiao Heng felt his heart clench inside him from an excess of tenderness. One of the things he had learned from knowing A'Li was that hearts could do that. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than for her to recognize him, to remember that they played Go all the time and she was in fact better than him, specifically. For her to love his eyebrows because they belonged to him, her husband. "Have you told him?" he asked. "Your husband. Does he know how much you like his face?"

"He knows," she said. "I told him."

"Maybe you should tell him again," said Xiao Heng. "The next time you see him. I think he'd like to hear it again."

"You think?" she asked, and then, before he could reply, she started to rise from the bed, as if to find him and tell him that very instant.

He caught her and pulled her back down. "Not right now. Just sit and rest your eyes for a moment. When you open them, he'll be here and you can tell him anything you want. Okay?"

She looked down at him, still on the floor. "He'll be here? How d'you know?"

He smiled. "Just know these things," he said. "I'm something of a smart cookie myself. I get it from my wife."

She was quiet long enough he thought surely she had lost the thread of their conversation. But eventually she said, "Okay. Then I'll wait here fr'im."

He thought of the long years she had already waited, and wanted to tell her, he's here, I'm here, I'll never make you wait again. But her eyes were closing, and she trusted him, both the him-that-was-here, to be a safe person, and the him-that-was-her-husband, to return to her. He knew what a gift that was, to be trusted by her.

So he took off her other shoe, then made quick work of her hairpins. He swung her legs onto the bed, one hand behind her shoulder blades to lower her back onto the cushions. He lifted her head and repositioned the bolster under her neck. He hadn't had the chance to make her drink water, and he'd surely hear all about that tomorrow. But he was looking forward to it--tomorrow, that is. Tomorrow she would recognize him.

He sat on the edge of the bed and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "See you when you wake up," he murmured, and looked toward the east, willing the earth to turn faster, willing the sun to rise.

[chayannesegg]

might be worth noting that tubbo got lore today because he made it canon he warped back from the boat.

i think this was confusing bc he wasn't sure initially how to play it (he is not a lore guy by trade we all know this), and waffled back and forth with it (with fun bits like "it's tuesday" or "it's a time rift"), but he definitely did make it canon.

he has the story: the boat didn't leave, he had his warpstone. he knew they would just steal him back, like they did the first time.

he has the reason: he desperately needed to see sunny before he left; couldn't sit idly by

and he made it clear that's what he wants to have happened. he told his chat to stop "-rp point"-ing him about it multiple times bc he's trying to make it canon (and told fit the same when he came back post-ghost bit).

he also asked sunny's admin whether she wanted their interactions to be filler or canon and she chose canon

plus he had a canon interaction with forever explaining it and asking him to watch over his daughter

and he and sunny built things and interacted with each other based specifically off the info he was kidnapped, that he will have to go, and that they both knew it was coming

so while you may have to ignore or recontextualize some of the goofier interactions when he initially came back (phil/etoiles/fit stuff esp), tubbo did come back, the code attack did happen, it's already been fit into the lore, and i don't doubt sunny is going to tell fit about it this week!!

[patrickztump]

these are the last blues we’re ever gonna have, let’s see how deep we get…

[welcome-to-the-agender-agenda]

Me: *sitting and scrolling through Pinterest*

Brain: We have energy so we have to do something

Me: Why not shower?

Brain: Not enough energy

Me: Read?

Brain: We can't focus

Me: Read fanfiction? You usually love that

Brain: Boring

Me: Watch a movie?

Brain: We can't just watch a movie and not do anything else as well

Me: Draw whilst watching a movie?

Brain: Too tired

Me:

Brain:

Me: Well can I sit here and scroll on my phone?

Brain: No, you have too much energy!

[spacenintendogs]

fishlegs' giggles & laughs are everything 2 me

[sciderman]

You said that if you dated Peter or Wade it would make you miserable. Which– Okay fair, Wade does have a history of purposely hurting the people he loves.

But what about Peter? Why do you think dating him would make you miserable?

because I’ll always know I had the option to climb a 6’8 cyborg and I passed that up for a sweaty little twunk that I perpetually have to remind to bathe (sorry peter)

[larks-birdhouse]

rational brain: they never said when they were going to post wonderlust. we can wait, we’ll be fine

the fucking dopamine deficient demon in my mind: hernjegdgwhehgd what if i blew up right now

[nathaniacolver]

lena luthor is asami-sato-coded: a venn diagram

hi everyone it's me the girl who made the korrasami x caitvi x avatrice venn diagrams before.

i am currently on s04 e04 of supergirl so i apologize for any falsehoods ab lena bc i don't know everything yet (BUT 168 bookmarked fanfics should have served me enough, right?)

behold, the two pale af, rich af, genius af, social status af, villain-coded, black-haired, green-eyed engineer/inventor/CEO wives of the protagonist:

if anyone has anything else they can think of for the overlap (or the sides!), i am more than happy to add it! i gave this all my brainpower for 2 hours but that was me alone, just 1 humanpower. always down for a group project

[hearts401]

au where all the aftons live and william doesnt get springlocked and the murders continue and the afton kids each have shit theyre dealign with because of it

[cheaploafs]

late night cuddles

[hersurvival]

Restless with nothing to give,

I've burnt myself out keeping busy

But I cannot stop or I will sink.

I lie in bed, shaking my foot off the edge,

Lying on my back, my stomach, sitting up.

If I quit moving, if I start thinking,

I might never return, I might not make it.

[hesperidia]

What I still can't put together is Akutagawa's personal thoughts surrounding his own death.

Taking a look at some moments from the manga, the first time he fights Atsushi in ch 4 and his death scene in ch 87:

And something that also stuck with me: This scene from 55 minutes.

Where he repeatedly "smiles in self mockery" when he believes his death is near, because he thinks going out in ways he deems "beautiful" is too much of a privilege for such a lowly person.

Knowing how he is and what he's been through, he might be waiting eagerly for his time to come. I would say the way he did actually die is not satisfactory to him at all. He would be so conflicted because what is more honorable than self sacrifice?

He longed for a horrible death. More fitting for someone like him. And I think that would not sit right with him...

Unless he realizes, in the split seconds before his consciousness fades, that death is death and that's what he was looking for. No matter how beautiful or damned it is.

[citrine-elephant]

this world is cruel and unjust

my blanket is in the washing machine

[a-blue-tree-man]