#i had *the time of my life* drawing this scene

[breeberrypies]

rbing bc there were too many tags so it wouldn’t show in my art tag. LET ME SPEAK MY TRUTH ABT MY SHOW⁉️⁉️

++(also you guys should totally not pirate this tv series nobody cares about anymore on wcostream.tv)

THEY TOOK VOLTRON OFF NETFLIX.

[sapphiresaphics]

I remember when The Owl House came out and there was INTENSE shipping of Amity and Luz. There were no other male characters Luz’s age, so the queer ship set sail. Then it was revealed Amity does in fact like Luz and the shipping exploded! By the end of season 1, Lumity was the most popular ship by far in the Owl House fandom.

But then Hunter was introduced in season 2. And the SECOND Luz and Hunter shared screen time together, suddenly there was intense hate and backlash to Amity even existing. Even when Amity kissed Luz and basically solidified them as the endgame couple of the show, there was INTENSE Lunter fanart and posting.

People’s reasoning was that Luz is bi and therefore she can like Hunter just as much as Amity. But it sure as heck didn’t feel like that at the time. As a lesbian in the fandom it felt more like people were trying to use Luz’s bi sexuality to straight wash the ships. And it felt very insidious since this was the first openly queer relationship Disney was allowing on the air. We finally got a queer wlw ship and people were trying to downplay it and take it over, using Luz’s sexuality as an excuse.

It felt targeted.

And it got BAD.

Every time Amity and Luz shared a cute moment together, someone would do re-draws of the scenes but swap out Amity for Hunter. And they’d deliberately tag the Lumity hashtag to force their ship into places it didn’t belong. For the longest time the Lunter hashtag was incredibly toxic and hateful towards anyone who called them out for this wlw erasure.

As the show progressed it became clear Hunter had a crush on Willow. And overnight the Lunter hashtag swapped to being Wintlow instead. They continued to do the same tactics as before, such as redrawing scenes of Lumity as Wintlow instead, but it thankfully stopped encroaching on the Lumity fanbase.

Still, to this day, if you search the Owl House hashtag you will find a disproportionate amount of Hunter X Willow artwork and fanfics.

I think of this whenever I see Jayvik fanart in the Arcane hashtag.

The number of people who are openly dismissive of Caitlyn and Vi and Mel being in relationships is staggering. Saying “whatever Jayce and Viktor had going on is gayer than Caitlyn and Vi!” is just as insidious as what the Lunter fandom was doing to Lumity.

We FINALLY got canon lesbian couples (not even bi, but full blown openly lesbian couples) in Arcane and all the fandom can talk about is Jayce and Viktor. A non-canon gay ship that dismisses Mel entirely and pretends like she never existed while denigrating Violyn because “Caitlyn is a cop and ACAB!”

I’m just so tired of this all. This dismissal of my sexuality and representation by the fandom hurts so much. And it seems to keep happening in every fandom that has a wlw ship.

I’m sure a lot of people aren’t even really aware they’re doing it either. Or they don’t feel like it’s a big deal. But after spending so much of my life YEARNING for canon wlw couples in animated shows, it’s disheartening to say the least how underrepresented we are.

[thesleepyhollows]

Understanding Arkhamverse scarecrow.

I’ve been wanting to make this post for awhile. I think with the release of Arkham shadow we might finally have all the necessary pieces to understand the life of Jonathan crane, his motivations and his descent into obsession.

This scene gives us a lot to work with.

Let’s start with this. It seems like unlike some versions of crane who see fear as a tool. The true face of control and power. Arkhamverse Crane sees fear as everything. This has been observed all throughout the series. From him discussing how fear drives every human action in Arkham asylum to this line in Arkham knight just before he’s defeated.

Something else I noted in that clip was Jonathan immediately trying to rationalise and analyse his reaction to his toxin using fear.

Now we’re not quite sure what this original chemical of his does. Only that its intention is to trigger the shadow within people. We can assume through both his and Batman’s reactions that it aims to do this through a similar process to the future fear toxin. Bringing out and facing people with their deepest fears. Hoping they may become them.

Though that leaves the same question. Why jump to fear. He’s clearly talented in chemistry. Surly there would be more direct ways to bring out people’s demons rather than only focusing on a single part of the shadow. Well I believe that shows us even before this realisation Jonathan had some experience and issues with fear. It’s also why his greatest fear seemingly is just. Fear itself. The helpless fears given to us from evolutions and experiences long before our time. Inherent fears.

However we also shouldn’t disregard his fixation on the shadow itself. Why does he seemingly want to get people to become their worst selves. As seen in his tapes with Harvey. Why is Jonathan crane like this?

Well I think there may have been a time where he saw someone consumed by fear. Destoryed by it.

This could draw an interesting parallel to the story of Amadeus Arkham whose story started when he watched his own mother be consumed by her mental illness before ending up consumed by it himself. I think this parallel could make a lot of sense given that I’d argue although the joker plays a more personal threat scarecrow is the main villain of the Arkham series.

So allow me to tell you what I believe to be the story of Jonathan Crane in the Arkham series. Assuming that the brief backstory we got in his Arkham asylum character bio isn’t considered canon.

A parent or other caregiver suffered from great anxiety and paranoia that caused them to do great harm. Maybe overtime perhaps in one tragic incident. Jonathan internalised this and began to grow interested in the mind. Maybe it started with good intentions. After all he does claim to be helping people in Arkham shadow. Maybe that was a lie and he’s been twisted for a very long time. Who knows.

He began work at Gotham state university and we know how that ended up.

Though it’s worth noting he clearly was brilliant. So much so that this incident unlike most versions of the character did not get him fired because his classes brought the university so much revenue. Instead he left on his own accord to take over as head of rehabilitation at blackgate. An odd choice given the amount of institutions bidding over him. They were likely offering more, far more than the job he took. Though I think his motivations for this were split. Partly is of course the obvious motivation of easy access to test subjects that couldn’t easily speak out. We can see in the previous game that he was running controlled tests likely of the chemicals we see used in Arkham shadow and his subjects were willing participants.

Now either not enough people were choosing to participate or the effects were becoming so potent it risked drawing unwanted attention to his work.

The second reason connects to my proposed backstory. Maybe he was curious to explore how fear connects and causes crime and violence via the shadow. The chain reaction that begins WITH fear.

We then see the events that happen in Arkham shadow and we find out alongside Jonathan that he’s been inhaling his own chemicals during testing. Smart move there buddy. This sends him into a psychotic spiral and forces him to confront and become his greatest fear. His shadow. Fear itself. We can see that this truly set in given how messed up he looks the following day. Not to mention his actions becoming erratic. No longer thinking to hide his crimes until after he severely injures Harvey and huffing his own chemicals right in court.

Afterwards? We’re not sure. Of course he goes on to become the scarecrow then the events play out as we see throughout the rest of the Arkham games. He gets mauled by killer croc during the events of asylum and his previously smug and joyfully sadistic personality get destroyed alongside his face. The experience clearly changed him quite drastically as a person. Although clearly it didn’t shake his core ideals and beliefs about the all consuming nature of fear.

How pitifully ironic that this idea became true in the end. As he’s injected with his own toxins his mind collapsing and giving way to permanent insanity and terror. Fear really was everything Jonathan had left in the end.

[yeonmuse]

BLUE HOUR | Day 15

PAIRING lyricist/soloist Joong x stranger reader

WORD COUNT |

GENRE Smut, Escapism

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ‼️

SUMMARY wanting to escape the nuisance of his fame and clear his head Joong goes for a stroll through the sleepless city. What he hadn’t expected was he’d meet someone as daring as you.

MORE | Day 15 of the Groupie Love Series

Fame always came with a price, whether it was those that sold their soul or those that worked all on their own to get there, life was never easy. No matter how you achieved it it never became easy, the stress or anxiety never went away, and privacy the one thing you’d wish to have would slip through the cracks of your fingers.

Hongjoong knew that better than anyone, there had been many days where he wished he hadn’t entered the rock scene, yes he loved the music but the constant attention on him wasn’t exactly something he craved. Tonight was the one night where he had finally found some sort of peace, a heavy silence washed over him as he walked along the beach after what felt like hours upon hours of being on his feet performing. He had been walking for so long that the stars and the mood had begun to take the place of the sun and the clouds, blue hour had fallen upon the city.

“You look like you had a rough day.” Someone's voice draws him out of his inner thoughts, he mentally curses himself for not having realized their presence ahead of time but they had seen them now and it was too late to not acknowledge them.

“A tiring one for sure, this is the first time I’ve gotten peace in the last week.”

“You chose the perfect time then, blue hour, it's always beautiful when you catch it at the right time, there’s something surreal about it.” As he finally turned to fully acknowledge the presence of the woman beside him, he fell silent, she herself was also surreal.

“yn, I come here often around this time, and you are?” She didn’t know him? Though hongjoong was relieved to finally be talking to someone that had no idea who he was, after seeing you he couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed that someone as beautiful as you had no idea who he was.

“Kim Hongjoong.”

“Well hongjoong, there's more to the city than just the beach, if you’re looking for more to see. When life gets tiring and you need something to make you feel anything other than that.”

“If I take your word then how about you show me, lead the way.”

“You’ll let a complete stranger show you around the city?”

“I met completely strangers everyday and trust them with far more.”

“Well the Hongjoong, let me show you my city.”

Hongjoong honestly didn’t know what the fuck he was thinking letting a complete stranger show him around the city, knowing his managers would throw a complete fit but in all honesty he didn’t care in that moment. You were like some sort of beacon of light that attracted him to you, and the longer the night went on the more that attraction grew. He didn’t even know if what he had been doing at that moment was legal nor did he truly care. He watched from down below as you ascended the ladder of the apartment building and he wasn’t too far behind, he found howls staring at your ass as he climbed up behind you, how could he not when it was right there on display before him, that of course didn’t go unnoticed by you.

Once the two of you finally made it to the rooftop, Hongjoong was stunned to say the least, by the view of the city. Though he could easily access a view like this in a penthouse or plane, there was something different about seeing it this way, out in the open. Blue hour was a magical time. His gaze then shifts from the view to you, he wonders how you yourself even knew how to access a view like this, his wondering then turned into admiration as he once again drank in the view of you.

“You’re staring again.”

“Again?”

“You gonna pretend you didn’t stare at my ass the entire climb up here?”

“Can’t exactly resist when it’s in full display in front of me, besides it’s kind of a hard sight to miss.”

“Well which view is better then?” Hongjoong was taken back by your sudden boldness, though he was used to women throwing themself at him or acting desperate, she was the complete opposite, you hadn’t once tried to throw yourself at him, and perhaps that was the reason he found himself attracted to you even more.

“I honestly think I prefer the city.” He responds, simply wanting to tease you though that may have backfired on him in the best way possible.

“You prefer that view over this one?” You respond giving a full spin, stopping with your back facing him. Tension between the two was now building, this night had been turning into something he had absolutely not been expecting, but he didn’t hate it.

“This view is also very tempting.” He responds, his eyes now glued to you, you had him hanging on your every move.

“Tempting? Does it tempt you?” You respond finally turning to face him again.

“Should we head back down? You still have more to show me right?” He wanted to end things here, to change the subject because he knew if they got caught you’d be dragged into the life that he himself was growing tired of, but you were making that hard.

“Tell me then what’s so tempting about me?” He watched as you bent your body over the edge of the building, your arms resting on the concrete balcony.

“Fuck.” He mumbles under his breath at the sight.

“Are you tempted to touch it? Or was your mind going further than just a touch?”

“Yn I shouldn’t-“

“Touch me then, go on.” He fell silent, you were giving him a clear invite and as much as he wanted to refute, the way you looked bent over that balcony made any possible self control leave his body.

“Fuck this.” In less than a few seconds he had his hand around your throat and your body pressed to his as he kissed on your neck.

“Can I? Fuck, please say I can?” Hongjoong wasnt used to this, he had never in his life pleaded to fuck anyone mostly because it usually came easy, but here he was aching to have you, to taste you, hear your moans.

“Yes.”

He wasted no time then and there ripping through the fabric of your jeans , it was then that he had gotten the most satisfying view, your legs spread wide as he had you bent over. Once he lifts your shirt and unlatches your bra he lets out a curse at the way your breasts fall loosely from your lifted shirt. It made for all the more satisfaction once he filled you up from behind. His eyes traced your every curve. From the dip in your back to the curves of your waist, but the main visual was getting to watch the way his cock so easily pushed past your folds until he was completely bottomed out inside of you, your tight grip around him immediately pulling a groan from his lips.

“Fucking hell If you keep clenching so much you’ll be full a lot faster than you should be sweetheart.’’ Hongjoong groans as he rests his hands on your waist and his head falls back. His hand wraps around your throat from behind and the other rest easily on the small of your back.

He gazes down at you, eyes full of hunger, he wanted to ravish you, to make sure every time you walked the next week all you would think about was him and the things he was now doing to you. A complete burst of pleasure overwhelms your body and you’d have sworn you saw stars as Hongjoongs fingers meet your clit, he rubbed rough circles against you as he watched how his entire cock pushed in and out of you. He didn’t miss the way your legs trembled or you’d occasionally fuck back against him which needless to say brought a smirk to his lips.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, you keep sucking me in?’’ His gaze had lingered on you long enough to know that you were reaching your limit, too bad even when you surpassed that limit he wouldn't be done with you.

“Shit just hold out a little longer pretty.” He grunts, his nails digging into the skin of your hips earning a soft cry from you which set a fire in his eyes. As the two of you were reaching your climaxes it seemed his thrusts grew rougher, Each thrust getting less merciful, he pushed into you with feverish movement, and he didn’t let up until your cunt was completely full to the brim with evidence of his doing. The two of you came at the same time, he gave a proud smile at the feeling of your legs trembling under him.

He loved the way you seemed to fall apart completely, that. He now had you leaned against the balcony struggling to catch your breath, your hair a complete mess and makeup ruined, the remnants of this encounter lingering all over your body.

[the-writerwoman]

Another little brainrot I had this afternoon.

So I was watching the 1999 The Mummy as I was typing today, as it's one of my favourite films ever and then the idea popped into my head and I was like OMG IT'S PERFECT. So in between chapters of heartstrings across the hallway, I wrote this out.

We got the dashing bodyguard/treasure hunter Rick O'Connell played by Logan. And eager, naïve Egyptologist Evie played by Wade. I imagine them as Origins Poolverine because I was Logan to have that fluffy hair when it's cut all nice :D

Please please please I am begging someone to draw these two as Rick and Evie. I will write out a Poolverine drabble of your choice, I just can't draw for the life of me and I need to see Logan with the white shirt and leather gun straps. And Cute Egyptologist Wade. We all know we want it :D

Anyways, here's the drabble! I used the scenes from the prison and when they meet him at the boat. I hope you enjoy!

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

Cairo prison was everything Wade imagined hell would be. The air was a stifling mix of sweat, rot, and despair, and the prisoners staring at him through the bars looked like they hadn’t seen sunlight or soap in years. Wade was regretting this trip more with every step, but he wasn’t about to back out now. Not after Weasel had gotten him into this mess.

“Let me get this straight,” Wade hissed under his breath as they followed the warden through the grimy courtyard. “You told me you found that box on a dig in Thebes.”

Weasel, ever the picture of nonchalance, adjusted his collar and smirked. “I did say that.”

Wade glared. “You lied to me.”

Weasel’s smirk only grew. “I lie to everyone, Wade. What makes you so special?”

“I’m your brother!”

“That just makes you more gullible.”

Wade stopped in his tracks, running a hand down his face as he processed the sheer audacity of his brother’s words. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“And yet, here we are,” Weasel said, gesturing grandly to the prison around them. “On the brink of adventure, thanks to my cleverness.”

“Cleverness?” Wade scoffed. “You won that box from a drunk at the Casbah!”

“Picked his pocket, actually,” Weasel corrected, a glint of pride in his eyes.

Wade groaned, resisting the urge to strangle his brother on the spot. The warden, who had been listening to their exchange with obvious amusement, ushered them toward the holding pen.

The warden paused outside the cell, shouting something at the men inside the building. The iron bars looked like they hadn’t been cleaned since the pharaohs ruled Egypt, and Wade wrinkled his nose as the smell hit him—a mix of rust, body odor, and something distinctly fishy.

“And what exactly is he in prison for?” Wade asked, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

The warden’s grin was so smug it made Wade’s skin crawl. “Ah, I wondered that myself. So, I asked him.”

Wade arched a skeptical eyebrow. “And?”

The warden’s grin widened. “He said...he was just looking for a good time.”

Before Wade could question what the hell that meant, the interior cell door was thrown open.

A man emerged, dragged into the room by four burly guards who looked like they were on the verge of quitting. He was in dirty clothes, and his wrists were shackled with iron cuffs. His hair was a wild mess, and his scruffy beard barely hid the scowl etched into his face. Wade noted, with no small amount of alarm, that his glare seemed capable of reducing grown men to tears.

The guards shoved Logan up against the bars, and for a moment, the environment was silent except for the clinking of chains and the background noises of the prison. Logan’s eyes scanned the area, lingering on Wade and Weasel with a mix of suspicion and irritation.

Wade wrinkled his nose, leaning toward Weasel. “He’s just a filthy criminal?”

Weasel cringed, giving Wade a sharp nudge. “Way to make a first impression.”

Logan’s sharp gaze zeroed in on Wade, and Wade felt a shiver run down his spine. Then Logan’s attention shifted to Weasel, and something dangerous flickered in his expression.

“So,” Logan growled, his voice rough like gravel, “who’s the loudmouth?”

Wade’s mouth fell open. “Loudmouth?!”

Weasel chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “He’s my brother, actually.”

Logan tilted his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah? Well, I’m sure he’s not a total loss.”

Wade bristled. “Excuse me? You’re the one chained up like a circus animal.”

Logan ignored him, his smirk turning into a full-blown grin. Wade hated it. He hated the way it made Logan look less terrifying and more... charming.

“I hate this guy,” Wade muttered under his breath.

Weasel leaned closer, whispering, “I think I like him.”

Before Wade could retort, the warden clapped his hands. “I’ll leave you to it. Back in a moment.” He exited with a chuckle, leaving Wade and Weasel alone with Logan and the guards.

Logan watched the warden leave, his smirk vanishing. “Oh yeah,” he muttered, “I’m trembling with anticipation.”

Wade stepped forward at Weasels' not so gentle nudge. 

“We, uh, found your puzzle box,” Wade said, trying to sound confident. “And we came to ask you about it.”

“No.”

Wade blinked. “No?”

Logan leaned closer to the bars, his smirk returning. “You didn’t come for the box. You came to ask about Hamunaptra.”

Wade froze, glancing nervously at the guards to make sure they hadn’t overheard. “How do you know the box pertains to Hamunaptra?”

Logan’s eyes narrowed. “Because that’s where I found it. I was there.”

Wade’s jaw dropped, but Weasel, ever the skeptic, folded his arms across his chest as he leaned closer to the bars.

“How do we know you’re not just feeding us a load of crap?” Weasel asked.

Logan’s gaze shifted to Weasel, and his expression darkened. Recognition flickered in his eyes, and Weasel’s confident demeanor faltered.

“Hey... don’t I know you?” Logan asked, his voice low and menacing.

Weasel stammered, but before he could finish, Logan’s fist shot through the bars, connecting with Weasel’s jaw. Weasel dropped like a sack of potatoes, landing in an ungraceful heap. Wade stared down at his unconscious brother, then back at Logan.

“Well,” Wade said dryly, “can’t say he didn’t deserve that.”

Logan shrugged as a guard clubbed him again, his head slamming into the bars. He didn’t react, his smirk firmly in place. Wade hesitated, then stepped closer, his curiosity outweighing his caution.

“You were actually at Hamunaptra?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

Logan smirked. “I just decked your brother.”

“Yes, well,” Wade said, waving a hand dismissively. “I know my brother.”

Logan chuckled, the sound low and gravelly. “Yeah, I was there.”

“You swear?”

“Every damn day.”

Wade frowned. “No I didn’t mean that, I meant-”

Logan didn’t lose his smile. “I know, I was there. Seti’s place. City of the dead…” he waved his hands in a showy way. Wade moved forward even more, his eyes bright with excitement. 

“Could you tell me how to get there?” Logan’s eyes looked at him in disbelief. Wade looked behind him to where the Warden was shouting something. He leaned right up to the bars, using his hat to cover his face in case anyone was to read his lips. 

“I mean, the exact location?” his voice low so that only Logan could hear him. 

Logan’s head bobbed about as he said in a serious tone. “You wanna know?”

Wade blinked. “Well, yes.”

Logan’s brows furrowed to look even more serious and Wade was drawn in. “Really wanna know?” Logan rumbled.

“Yes!”

Logan crooked his finger for Wade to press his face right against the bar. Before Wade could react, Logan surged forward and grabbed his face between his thumb and finger, squishing Wade’s cheeks together. Then he kissed him full on the lips. Wade froze, his brain short-circuiting. Logan pulled back, baring his teeth like a wild animal.

“Then get me the hell outta here,” Logan growled.

Before Wade could respond, the guards yanked Logan away from the bars, his fingers falling away from Wade’s face, and dragged him off the floor. Wade stood there, stunned, his lips still tingling. Weasel groaned from the floor, his voice muffled.

Logan elbowed one of the guards who tried to grab him.

“Do it, Loudmouth,” he shouted as he was dragged back into the cell. 

~~

The Giza port buzzed with life, a chaotic orchestra of shouts, laughter, and the clatter of hooves against the sunbaked stone. Camels groaned as merchants hauled crates up gangplanks. Hawkers zigzagged through the throng, waving everything from toy tombs to suspiciously shiny scarab beetles. The Nile shimmered in the midday sun, and beyond it, the pyramids loomed like silent sentinels.

Wade swatted at a hawker thrusting a poorly carved “ancient” idol at him, the kind that looked like it might have been made last week. He grumbled under his breath, weaving between crates and barrels while shooting glares at his brother, who strolled casually ahead, hands in his pockets.

“Do you think he’ll actually show up?” Wade asked, flicking a loose thread from his sleeve.

Weasel barely glanced at him, too busy sidestepping a squawking parrot perched on a vendor’s stand. “Undoubtedly knowing my luck. I know the breed. He may be a cowboy but his word is his word.”

Wade snorted. “His word? Please. Personally, I think he’s filthy, rude, and a complete scoundrel. I don’t like him one bit.”

Weasel smirked but didn’t respond as a voice came from behind them. 

“Anyone I know?”

Both brothers turned in unison.

Logan stood a few paces away, freshly shaved and looking nothing like the man they’d left in chains at the prison. His wild hair had been tamed into something ruggedly handsome, his overgrown beard shortened and styled, and his worn, tattered clothes had been replaced with crisp trousers, a button-down shirt, and a light cotton jacket that seemed custom-made to fit his muscular frame. Even the boots looked polished. He strode toward them with the easy confidence of someone who knew they had everyone’s attention, especially Wade’s.

For once, Wade had no quick remark. He opened his mouth to say something snarky, but the words caught in his throat. “Oh… um… hello.”

Weasel, however, had no such hesitation. He stepped forward, grabbing Logan’s arm in an enthusiastic handshake.

“Smashing day for the start of an adventure, eh, Howlett?” Weasel grinned, his voice loud enough to draw stares from nearby hawkers.

Logan didn’t smile. Instead, he frowned and quickly patted down his pockets. “Yeah, sure. Smashing.” His voice dripped with suspicion as he eyed Weasel. Weasel laughed nervously. 

“Oh no, I’d never steal from a partner, partner,” he reassured. He went to go give him a friendly tap on the shoulder but the look Logan gave him stopped him. 

“That reminds me, no hard feelings about the, er-” Logan points to his face. Weasel flaps his hand in a dismissive gesture. 

“Oh no, no. Happened all the time.” Weasel said with a grin. 

Wade finally found his voice. “Mister Howlett, can you look me in the eye and guarantee me this isn’t some kind of con? Because if it is, I swear—”

Logan didn’t wait for Wade to finish. He stepped closer, close enough for Wade to catch the faint scent of soap, leather, and something distinctly him. Logan’s piercing gaze locked onto Wade’s, and the weight of his intensity made Wade falter, though he’d never admit it.

“Let me put it this way,” Logan said, his voice low and steady, “My whole damn garrison believed in it so much that, without orders, we marched halfway across Libya and into Egypt to find that city. And when we got there, all we found was sand and blood.”

Wade’s throat tightened, his bravado cracking under the raw honesty in Logan’s voice. He swallowed, forcing himself to maintain eye contact.

“Fine,” Wade said, a little too quickly.

Logan’s gaze lingered on him for a beat longer before he stepped back. “Let me get your bags.” Without waiting for permission, he grabbed Wade’s luggage like it weighed nothing, and started up the gangplank of a passenger barge.

Wade stood frozen, watching Logan’s retreating figure. His brain raced with half-formed thoughts and indignation, none of which made it to his mouth.

Weasel, ever the opportunist, sidled up to Wade and nudged him with an elbow. “Yes, yes, you’re absolutely right—filthy, rude, a complete scoundrel. Nothing to like there at all.”

Wade snapped his head toward Weasel, glaring. “Shut up, Weasel.”

But his eyes betrayed him, drifting back to Logan. There was something about the way the man carried himself now, as though shaking off the grime of his prison days had unearthed the raw charisma beneath.

[rutlancecf]

Sleepover, part 2. (Fragment)

- What do you need to have a sleepover?-

Grayson blinked a few times at the question. Diverting his attention from the television, he fixed it on the 10 years old girl, who was looking at him with the greatest seriousness in the world.

- What did you say, Dami?-

Annoyed by how distracted her older brother was, Damiana crossed her arms and pouted.

- What do you need to have a sleepover?- She asked again, drawing the attention of the other two boys in the room.

- Woah, woah, woah.- Jason muted the television.- Is the demon princess going to have a sleepover?-

- Ha!- Tim laughed, pointing a finger at her.- To have a sleepover you need friends!-

- Tt, that's covered.- She said, looking disinterestedly at Drake.

The three brothers stared at the news for a moment and reacted differently.

- Since when are you able to socialize with someone without breaking their face?-

- You blackmailed someone, right? Or possibly you threatened them, right? Oh, oh! Surely they are part of a gang, right? That, or they have a possible mental disability.-

- Oh, Dami!- Dick, unlike the other two, took the infant in his arms and hugged her tightly.- You're finally going to bring girl friends home! I am so happy!-

- Enough.- No matter how much time had passed, she still couldn't stand being hugged and having her cheeks rubbed against those of others.- They're not girls.-

- WHAT!?- They yelled at the same time, so stunned that even Richard let go of her.

And immediately the scolding, lectures and threats began.

- YOU CAN'T BRING BOYS IN THE HOUSE!- Jason yelled at her.- BOYS AND GIRLS DON'T HAVE SLEEPOVERS TOGETHER!-

- Drake has sleepovers with Brown, Cain and his stupid boyfriend Konnor!- The girl replied.- So your aphorism has no foundation.-

- HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU THAT CONNER IS NOT MY BOYFRIEND, AND THAT HE IS NOT CALLED THAT?-

The little girl rolled her eyes, she had her suspicions but she wasn't going to waste time arguing with Tim.

- Whatever.-

~*~DELETED SCENE~*~

Taking advantage of the fact that the Demon Princess wasn't there, the three plotted their evil plans.

- All right, guys. First things first: No bottles.- Dick warned them.

- That will be difficult, remember that soft drinks come in bottles.-

- Well, we drink them, what a problem.- Jason answered.

- Don't be silly, we can make Alfred empty the sodas in jars, or buy canned ones. It's that simple.-

- What if someone wants juice, Replacement? That also comes in bottles.-

- So buy those that are in tetrapack.-

- More than a sleepover, it looks like a preschool meeting. The Demon Princess is going to get very angry.-

- I don't care.- Grayson said very seriously, making the other two see him.- I don't care if Dami doesn't speak to me again for the rest of my life, I won't allow a brat to take her by the hand and give her her first kiss. NOBODY!-

[variousqueerthings]

rewatched the due south pilot again with someone new. gradually pspspspspspssss at everyone i know about this show.

but yeah, two scenes really stick out to me this time about ray in terms of core features in how i come at him:

the second time they meet: their first meeting did not go well, he thought fraser had ruined his case, he was generally quite done with Stuff (and later on of course we will learn more about why he's so run down), there's this stranger demanding his time, and oh- oops he's just insulted his dead father accidentally and, huh, this oddity of a person is taking it pretty well to be honest... the second time they meet is entirely on ray. he seeks fraser out having done research on the case, but first he apologises to him very sincerely for having said those words. that is the first, big thing that ray offers fraser (the next, of course, is giving over his entire life and soul to him, but i don't think he realised that in that moment...)

after he gets blown up and is lying in hospital: he apologises again, this time for screwing things up. we know by now that he had a bad relationship with his own five-years-dead father who never thought he was good enough, that he's struggling under his caseload at work, we've got a sense he isn't super respected there either, and although we've met his family which is actually very loving (if loud and argumentative) he's giving a sense of being pretty lost in the world at that point and nothing that happened before was his fault. he's been helping fraser, against his superior's wishes, done some good sleuthing/detective work, and saved fraser by putting himself in front of the explosion. and then he apologises

I feel like a lot of the time ray's thought about in terms of his abrasiveness with people generally, his shield against the world he's quick to assume the worst of people and doesn't let others in, but fraser neatly bypasses those walls. on purpose? by accident? bit of both? i think he does sincerely See more to ray in their first scene, the "like you, he is pretending to be someone he's not" line feels like it's talking about more than just ray having been undercover in the previous scene, and because he's fraser he never belittles or mocks or gets aggressive about ray's behaviours throughout their first meeting, which probably also draws him in on top of the need to Make Things Right

i think beneath some of the goofier stuff (which, honestly, i dont think theres thaaat much of, but id have to do a proper count and parallel how many times he's there as "comic relief" vs when fraser is, and also times where ray is shown to be extremely competent which is often -- maybe i'd wish for more dramatic episodes for him but that's more to do with how good marciano's acting is than a real disservice done to ray himself) and the more petulant/childish manifestations of insecurities (it's hard being friends with a Saint, as he puts it very fairly in my opinion, although i also think that line partially relates to some other stuff he'd said about Fraser Please Taking Better Care Of Himself throughout the whole season) there's this ray, and that core is quite obvious pretty much from the get-go

a ray who meets sincerity with sincerity and takes fraser in with honestly barely any prompting at all on fraser's part. a man who maybe was desperate for something/one to believe in, who isn't super macho about admitting fault, and then -- in the hospital scene -- a man who's so used to thinking of himself as a screw-up to the point that he'll apologise for getting blown up to save fraser

there's a lot ray gives fraser. for one thing, fraser would be dead multiple times over without him. but ray Needed him to appear in his life in order to get through the damn day. he saw some storybook larger-than-life weirdo and grabbed hold of him immediately and then realised that the rest of the world seemed to want to eat said weirdo alive and pretty much said over my dead body and he's done pretty well living up to that

did, though, very much appreciated fraser finally properly telling him in red white or blue how much he means to him and how valued he is, because ray doesn't always see it. (funnily enough, they had another bomb threatening to detonate at the time. almost a full circle)

two scenes in which ray says sorry, one in which he was right to do so and one in which he was wrong. there's more to it, but that's the... Thing im thinking about

[malt-rants-and-stuff]

HEHEHE SO GLAD YOU ENJOYED IT<333 LOVED THESE NOTES SO MUCH I JUST KEEP REREADING THEM AND GIGGLING

I have some note of my own to share!! which is why this response took a bit (sorry about the dark screenshots I'm writing this in the dark at 3 am)

first off, yes I indeed reached into your mind to channel the vibes I put into this fic.

no fr though this was such a fun fic to write from my perspective as someone who has moved about 10-ish times in my life and who will surely move again. I dug into my own memories of moving out of the places I lived the longest just for this. that whole first section was inspired by the time I moved from living in my grandparents big house with tons of cousins and family, to suddenly being basically alone with my mom who was barely home. tashiro really dragged out those feelings I had and made them his own lol.

haha. yeah. to add onto this: there was a version of the draft with hanzawa haunting the narrative like this in like half the scenes. little tid-bits and mentions of his activities. but in the end that concept didn't stick bc I wanted the main focus to be on shirashiro

i wrote this while hanging out with a friend and she said they sounded quote "really fucking married" so it's nice to see that wasn't just her saying things lmao

this whole section was a fun one. the scrunchie is a bit I added after a very heated debate with myself over whether I wanted longer haired tashiro or if I wanted to have a scene of them cutting his hair. as you could probably tell I chose the longer hair

the gag gifts are in tashiro's room. while they didn't decorate much of the main sections of the apartment, their rooms are basically full of all the stuff from their old houses. he keeps the pots on his window sill and later down the line adopts some lovely little fake plants from a guy on the side of the road that turn out to be real plants. he lets shirahama name them.

the soup is a silly story. if I'm ever inclined to do a follow up to this I'd write it out fully. basically it's from ogasawara to tashiro, but he gave it to shirahama in a really awkward interaction and then sasaki mocked him for it. not pictured in that part is that miyano brought sasaki to help lift the couch, who brought oga because free labor, who brought soup because hid family said to bring a housewarming gift and he thought 'soup is warm'. some other shenanigans occur including hanzawa that we wont get into. its a fun time.

and on another personal note, the soup is inspired by my first meal in my current apartment. ive posted about it before, but my current move was an absolute disaster of legal bullshit and ridiculous time crunches that almost left me homeless. and during that time, there wasn't really a chance to think about food. it was a mad dash to move apartments in 12 hours that by some miracle worked out. so when I finally had the chance to breathe, I realized I A: had no food and B: was too tired to go get some. thankfully, my aunt stopped by during the chaos and left some surprise soup for me, and i warmed it up and ate it out of a pot with a ladle bc I couldn't find bowls or spoons. it was vegan soup and it tasted like freedom

thank you for drawing my vision and adding to it. this is so wonderful... fun fact: the headband is tashiro's. there's a deleted scene of him taking it and giving that explanation and some other things happened but it didn't feel right so it didn't make the cut. that face mask is so fun tho I love it

[rubbing my hands together] muahahaha yessss!!! the implications!!!!!

my exact feelings writing that scene

hilarious that you spotted that, it was in fact a sunnnfish reference! it actually said sunfish before but it felt too on the nose lol

this bit haunted me for a while because I couldn't figure out an animal that fully captured my vision of him. then I visited a museum and saw a hare and went "oh shit. shirahama."

Yeagh.....

i know what I wrote and it was on purpose but also in my heart they are always seated at a circular table that wobbles every time one of them leans on it and they take turns standing dramatically from it and watching it teeter

yeahhh he's grown so much!!! he's older and not much wiser and he still!! plays!!! ping pong!!!!!

another deleted scene included them playing a game that they got married in for tax (loot) benefits but I sadly let it go because it was focused around a plot line I abandoned for atmosphere purposes

here lies sunny, died from a lethal dosage of shirashiro jajsjsj

no but seriously this part was especially fun to write. I want to note in that second to last paragraph that the way he did that was on purpose very odd. he could've used just his hand to clean it off, or a paper towel, or just told shirahama and had him wash it off himself. but he didn't. it was also a very sudden full body turn. why did he do all that <-knows why

and the ponytail tashiro drawing!!!! cups him in my palms

if there were ever a b-side to this from shirahama's pov, it would mostly just be composed of a million "oh. oh." moments on loop

this whole project was a lot of fun for me mostly just from an editing standpoint. i had so much time to change and adjust scenes to make them work how i wanted. and all that left me with tons of deleted scenes and ideas i can reuse later which is awesome. thank you so much for the awesome prompt and lovely notes<333

@sunnfish okay Take Two!!! hello sunny sunnfish you wonderful sea creature! I was your secret santa for the @ssmygiftexchange! so sorry for the delay on this, my scheduled post was taken by the tumblr void and I wasn't home with my laptop to remake this post haha.

Your prompt was shirashiro college roommates au and prev pres, hanzawa, and tashiro hang out!! hope i was able to do this justice, this is officially the longest oneshot ive posted :)

Now with an Ao3 version, i would recommend reading there because Tumblr messed up some of my formatting and I can't fix it right now ^_^

Summary:

Tashiro and Shirahama are college roommates. It's a relatively peaceful life.

A non-linear story written for the sasamiya & hirakagi winter gift exchange!

As it turns out, moving in with a guy that you’ve known for almost half your life is pretty unremarkable.

Maybe it has something to do with being too familiar with each other. There have been too many sleepovers for the sound of snores to phase him, too many gym classes for the sight of skin to fluster him, too much time for anything to feel awkward between them. And yet…

And yet.

Packing your whole life into boxes is pretty hard, as it turns out. Looking around his room now it seems hard to imagine how it’ll feel to see the whole place emptied out. Cleared of every reminder of himself.

Tashiro tries not to think about it so hard as he turns back towards the closet. He’s never felt the need to go through everything he had stuffed in there until now, remnants of the past mixing with comforts of the present.

He reaches out to grab one of the hangers, pulling it free. His ping-pong jacket, he thinks despairingly, is slowly becoming small on him. His name spelled across the back in white lettering brings him back to when he first noticed. The growth spurts he’s been having refuse to slow even for a moment, and though he likes that some days, it mainly makes him face annoying things like this.

If he leaves the jacket, it will probably be packed up and put away somewhere to be forgotten. He can picture it now, sitting in a box stuffed away as it slowly fades from his memory. It makes him feel sort of heavy. But, if he takes it with him, he’s not sure it would be much better in the long run. Just holding it in his hands reminds him of how much time has passed. Of how fast it will keep passing.

He stands there, gears turning haphazardly in his mind, as he tries to breathe it all in.

Then, a knock.

His eyes dart to his doorway in surprise– knowing none of his family was home right now– only to remember that he’d invited the others to help him out.

Shirahama stands in front of him, knuckles resting against the already ajar door. His slightly bored face and tellingly awkward posture show that he hadn’t expected to be the first to arrive.

“Is your doorbell broken?” He asks as his socked feet pad their way into the room. “I tried using it, for once, but from that look I guess you didn’t hear.”

Tashiro finds himself a little amused by this, as he knows for a fact Shirahama has his own key. Perks of coming over to play games most weekends out of the year. He remembers them making jokes about going into each other's fridges while no one was home when they traded keys.

“Nah, guess I was just distracted,” He says with a casual shrug, placing the jacket back in the closet.

Shirahama gives him a questioning look. “I thought you were moving out, not back in.” His friend jokes as he passes Tashiro, grabbing a couple of shirts from the closet alongside the jacket.

He feels his eyebrow twitch in a way that reminds him a little of Hanzawa; and what a scary thought that is.

“I’m feeling indecisive.” He says, his mouth twisting to match how the word makes him feel. All twisted up and confused.

Shirahama turns to the side to face him, having stacked more clothes into his arms that look to be on the verge of falling to the floor. “About what? If you should take your whole house with you?”

That jacket. If I should re-dye my hair. Growing up. You. The future.

“What if we paint all the walls yellow?” He says instead of the hundreds of things his racing mind pushes forward.

“Yeah, that’s not happening.” Shirahama responds resolutely, his eyes showing no room for argument. Not that Tashiro will let that stop him.

“Or maybe green? Something bright.” He continues on, stepping away from his thoughts to grab the jacket out of the teetering pile and place it to the side. “Actually, scratch that, blue would be great too.”

Shirahama gives him a withering look that has no effect on his enthusiasm. Now that he’s thinking about it, the fact that he isn’t going to make these kinds of decisions on his own anymore is pretty fun. He’ll have a roommate, a friend to work through his troubles with. The thought makes him feel lighter.

“Hey, d’you still want this?” Shirahama asks some time later, long after Kuresawa and Miyano have come and gone. Tashiro looks up from the stack of boxes he’d just finished labeling.

“Oh, yeah I almost forgot!” He says as he takes his jacket, tying it around his waist for safekeeping. He really hopes he didn’t overestimate how much closet space he has.

It’s only a few hours after the final box has been unloaded and the moving van is hauled off when Tashiro makes a chilling discovery.

“Dude, we have no food.” He says, eyes staring at the bleak emptiness of their new fridge.

“Yup,” Shirahama responds as he walks up beside him, handing Tashiro a scrunchie in a sort of placating manner.

Tashiro’s shoulders droop with the weight of his exhaustion. Moving was one of the most tiring things he’s ever done, and coming from him that’s saying something.

Turning away from the depressing artificial fridge lighting, Tashiro turns toward the kitchen counter behind him and grabs his keys. As wrecked as he might feel, the growls of his stomach refuse to be ignored. “I’ll go buy something quick,” He says.

“Ah- wait, I have an idea,” Shirahama says suddenly. Back straightening, he moves away from the fridge of doom over to a bag of housewarming gifts the others had left. It was mostly a small array of gag gifts, little plant pots shaped like ping pong balls and a lampshade shaped like a pudding cup, but in a small container alongside the rest was something else. A saving grace for the hungry:

A tub of butter.

Tashiro looks at it in confusion, asking if his friend was really that hungry.

Shirahama smirks, “With food, no container is ever as it seems.”

He opens the tub’s lid, revealing its contents. Inside is not butter, but a large frozen serving of chicken soup. Tashiro feels his jaw drop as he gasps in disbelief.

Quickly shaking himself of his shock, Tashiro grins brightly. He takes the soup and stuffs it into the microwave, but Shirahama stops him from starting the timer.

“Y’know it would taste better if you put it in a pot instead.” Shirahama says, his hand gently clasped around Tashiro’s wrist in a way that he chooses not to internalize. His fingers are a little cold.

“But it’s already cooked.”

“So? You can still warm it up in the pot. Plus it’ll make it taste closer to how it’s supposed to.” Shirahama retorts, opening the microwave and placing the tub on the counter as he goes to try and find a pot in the sea of boxes.

Tashiro stays behind as he thinks. He hadn’t ever had a reason to go so far out of his way to warm up food before. He feels himself smile a bit, the first change he’ll have to get used to in this new life.

As it turns out, keeping a relatively small apartment clean is a little difficult when you’re living on your own as two messy 18 year olds.

They tried the whole chore chart thing at first, Shirahama said he used to have one at his parent’s house and it worked fine. But, well, it’s a little different when it’s just them.

The dishes are stood in a precarious stack, plates and glasses towering in ways gravity should never allow. Tashiro faces his task with a body radiating reluctance.

He’s been busy the entire week. Classes and work keep him out of the house, and even when he is home he prefers to spend time relaxing or hanging out with Shirahama. He had forgotten about his chore, and now it’s become a problem.

Carefully reaching towards the tower, he grabs the cups first and goes for the sponge right as Shirahama walks out from his room.

He has his hair held back by a headband, because my bangs are a nightmare right now, he’d explained the other day.

He walks towards the kitchen and looks at Tashiro, who has begun to work through the dishes.

“…Need any help?” He asks as he reaches toward the kitchen cabinet, pulling out the chips he’d come for.

“Oh, no I’m good,” Tashiro responds, though the overwhelmed look in his eyes doesn’t match his words.

Hm. Shirahama puts his chips down on the counter, turning towards the sink and stepping up beside his friend. “I’ll dry and you wash, okay?” He says with a smile.

Tashiro blinks at him for a moment, lips parted in an ‘o’, before he nods and sends back a smile of his own.

They make it through everything eventually, though not without some effort and accidental water sprays. They decide afterwards to just do the dishes together, just to save them time.

There's this strange sensation that comes for him one day. The apartment is dark, the steady hum of the aircon welcoming him home, and immediately something feels amiss.

Tashiro kicks off his shoes, only to turn back around and place them carefully on the shoe rack. He always forgets that it’s something he should worry about now. Keeping his home in order was never really a big deal before, it was usually only him spending time there anyways.

Passing through the short hallway, his eyes catch on a small black and red container. He looks around suspiciously, but finds no sign of Shirahama. Crossing the creaky floorboards, he inspects the tupperware and finds a green sticky note pressed onto the lid.

Went to a mixer.

Put this in a pot and try eating real food for once

Tashiro blinks away his shock. His eyes trace over the words on the note. Again, then again.

Thump

Thump

Thump

His hands warm the plastic as he goes to hold it, and a smile breaks out across his face. He’ll have to say thanks later.

Placing his food back onto the counter, he turns to go change. He feels anticipation swirl around inside of him, and even without tasting the soup, Tashiro feels warm.

Tashiro finds out in the second month of living with his best friend that they’re maybe not the best at making their place livable.

“How have you guys been living like this?” Miyano asks, part judging and part concerned. They’re standing in the living room, which consists of a couch, a tv, and a shelf balanced on two boxes that they use as a coffee table. The tv sits on the floor with a console, video game cases stacked beside it.

It’s not like they haven’t talked about decorating. They joked about it before moving, and made plans about what they wanted to do. The plans just… didn’t end up happening.

At some point between the exhausting move-in and the rush of classes starting up, decorating didn’t feel like that urgent of a thing.

But now classes have been in session for a while, and they still haven’t bothered with it.

The click of Kuresawa’s camera bounces off the empty walls. “A total bachelor pad,” he says, sounding just to the left of impressed. “My girlfriend was wondering what it looks like when two college guys live together.”

Tashiro groans at that, knowing that another classing girlfriend ramble is on its way.

“We live just fine,” Shirahama says, and as if on cue the boxes fold into themselves, sending the shelf clattering to the floor. Right.

They decide to go furniture shopping, just to make sure that they don’t have to deal with any more Looks from Miyano or paparazzi from Kuresawa.

Tashiro suppresses a laugh, pointing towards a table with odd looking fish for legs, “We need that.” Shirahama laughs along with him, but shakes his head.

“We have a budget, we’re only getting what we absolutely need.” He reminds Tashiro. His eyes turn towards a yellow and white coffee table that is practically calling for him. He turns away.

Tashiro salutes him, and doesn’t retaliate when Shirahama gives him a playful shove in response. He turns around and walks towards a different part of the store, twisting strands of his hair between his fingers as he goes. He really needs to touch up his roots.

Spotting something on a shelf, he picks it up. It’s a decorative statue, a silver painted hare taking a nap. He smirks and turns around, walking back to Shirahama. “Hey, look, I found you…” he starts to say before trailing off, eyes focusing on Shirahama’s side profile.

His eyes look focused in the way they always do when he’s overthinking something simple. His brows are pinched and his thumb is pressed flat on the side of his lip. Tashiro breathes in the expression, and decides he can show him later.

Laughter reverberates through the restaurant, one table in particular shining with rays of excitement and teasing.

“No, but seriously, how many more piercings can you get?” Tashiro questions dramatically, standing from his seat to stretch across the table and investigate. Hanzawa only laughs behind his hands and turns his head, showing off another new hole in his ear.

“If you ask that every time you’ll keep giving yourself a headache,” says the eldest one at the table, the previous ping pong president in all his red haired glory smirks mischievously and pats Tashiro’s back.

Crossing his arms and dropping back into his seat, Tashiro tries to keep up an air of frustration. It lasts about a second before he breaks out into a smile of his own.

These little meet-ups are a lot of fun for him. It’s not every day that all three of them are in one place. Especially not with their current schedules. It’s a nice break from the busy life he’s been settling into.

He feels his heart warm as he sits with his friends, ready to bring up his latest win in his college ping pong club, when his phone vibrates. Flipping it over, he sees that Shirahama texted him.

Divorce Soon: hey r you home

I left my jacket and this place is freezing

He pauses to consider. He’s not very far from the apartment, he could run there, grab it, and drop it off pretty quickly. But… he glances up from his phone to the two in front of him. He doesn’t want to leave yet. But… looking back at his phone he sees the spam of crying emoji’s Shirahama has begun sending. 

“Hey guys, sorry but my roommate needs me to get him something,” he says with an awkward expression. The conversation pauses as the two process what he said. “Oh sure, you need a ride?” His absolutely genius red haired friend offers, pulling his keys out as he says it.

“Yes!” Tashiro replies as his expression lights up. He tells Shirahama he’s on the way, and they head out towards the parking lot.

Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, Tashiro fiddles with the edge of his shirt. He tries not to move too much, looking back and forth from his hands to Shirahama. His friend has that same look in his eyes that he did back in middle school art class. Focused, determined, trying and failing to keep paint off of his face. Only this time the paint is a bright yellow dye.

They’ve been like this for a while. He hums along to the music playing from his phone. His butt feels a little numb and he has counted and recounted the tiny floor tiles at least a million times, all 173- no, 175 of them. He tries to focus his attention on anything but the gloved hands in his hair.

He carefully reaches over for his phone, switching the playlist to a random one he saw in his recommendations.

It’s not as if he couldn’t survive in silence for a little while. He usually doesn’t have anyone else to do this for him, so silence is kind of a given.

But as he taps the beat into his leg and opens his mouth, no words come out. He lets the silence linger even as Shirahama begins humming the words to a song he remembers coming out in their first year. He thinks about laying on the floor of his bedroom, phone conversations bouncing off his poster-lined walls and music blasting.

He remembers the telltale clicks and clacks from the other end of the call, the curses against ridiculous route mechanics spilling into his ears.

Tashiro feels like this is sort of like those moments, just a little bit more. His legs are longer, his hair can go into a ponytail now, and his world feels so much bigger. His eyes turn towards the boy-technically-man in front of him. His eyes look sharper and his face is more angular.

But, in a lot of ways he feels the same as he always has. The same Shirahama who cried during their graduation, and sat next to him on their first day of middle school. The same Shirahama who bullies him for counting on his fingers, but forgets what comes after 3 when he’s drunk enough. 

The same yet different Shirahama. They match in that way, at least. Both the same, but not fully.

“I… think I’m done?” Shirahama says, breaking their steady silence. Tashiro stands to go look in the mirror. He giggles at the sight of his foil-wrapped hair sticking out at odd angles.

Shirahama laughs along with him, and it really isn’t that funny, but they still stand there giggling like idiots. Tashiro pulls at the corner of his shirt again, turning around and raising it up to Shirahama’s face and wiping away some of the dye.

He drops his shirt and turns back to the mirror, looking at the two of them in the reflection. He watches the way Shirahama’s face stays frozen, and how his whole face flushes like it always has. It’s nice to see some things will never change.

[cornishpixiez]

"How can you say that?" Lily tugs on her wrists, helpless, teary eyes. Mary only shrugs; she doesn't care about what is morally correct. "You're killing people!"

Mary rolls her eyes and sits beside her. "No, Lily. I'm killing boys. Boys are just placeholders, they come, and they go."

illustrated piece i did for my fic, She’s A Maneater.

[lotus-pear]

11/20

[umblrspectrum]

happy solvermas

[heynhay]

scene from where the apple falls by @jupiters-junipers :-) wholeheartedly recommend any and all of her work

[artkaninchenbau]

An AWS comic

[pixelatedraindrops]

Yuma Month: Day 31: Post Game

…for the sake of the world’s happiness.

[rintinningvt]

Started watching the Bayverse movies with my besties and... Are we just too gay for these movies??? Admittedly we only finished the first two and got through a quarter of the third, but the second one was such a drag to sit through at times and it probably doesn't help that we do NOT care about Sam that much. I hope that there is a character arc for him in the rest of the third movie. Because so far he has not been fun to watch in that one. He just comes off as a slight manchild to me, like... I can see why he would be frustrated with where he is in life but the way he acts with others and lashes out does not help him in the slightest. I do have to admit though that seeing him go to Cybertronian Heaven in the second movie was the funniest part for me and my besties lol.

I'll just hope that the other guy in the next movies will be at least a bit more interesting. Doesn't even have to be a good guy, just an interesting guy for me lol

[sskk-manifesto]

!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!