#i might make it a little angsty

[madabapf]

have to resist the urge to make silly drunk monke comic end with angst

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

but i crumble completely when you cry . .

katsuki comforts you

katsuki bakugou hates a lot of things

he hates people who walk slow, he hates people who chew loudly or people who talk loud in places they know damn well they shouldn’t.

he hates when people walk on the back of his shoe and he hates idiots like kaminari who talk during movies.

but most of all, katsuki bakugou hates seeing you cry.

it sparks something in him, something red, hot and so angry when he finds you in your dorm. tears running down your cheeks that show no sign of stopping. he hates it even more when you make eye contact and you curl into yourself even more from where you’re sitting on the floor.

katsuki immediately decides this is the thing he hates the most.

he’s on you in seconds, kneeling in front of you, searching around to get a peek of your face hidden in your knees. he places his hands on top of yours where they’re wrapped around your legs and his chest tightens when you flinch a little.

“ who was it ? who did this to you ?” he can’t recognize his own voice, his words come out so fast he barely registers what he’s saying.

you try to speak but nothing but more broken sobs and shaky breaths come out as you desperately try to catch your breath and katsuki realizes that you talking isn’t a priority right now.

his eyebrows are furrowed and he almost looks angry but he’s so, so worried. if anything, he’s angry at himself for being so helpless, for not being able to help you in a time where you clearly need it.

he grabs your shoulder softly and the weight his chest lightens slightly when you lean a little closer to him, before letting him pull you tightly into his arms

“breathe for me.” he utters softly, voice gruff and gravelly. he never actually talks this softly unless he’s around you, the difference is so stark it surprises him a little bit but he’s got more important things to think about. praise spills from him occasionally, muttering a “you got it. i got you” into your ear before pressing a kiss to your temple.

katsuki’s never really had to comfort anyone, he’s never felt the need to, but you’re not just anyone. your different, you’re his. his love his everything and he’ll be damned if he didn’t try his hardest for you.

you’ve calmed down a little bit, he noticed. you’re breathings calmed down a little and your sobs have been reduced to snivels. the tightness in his lungs is still there, but it’s less now.

“what’s goin’ on with you, hm ?” you’re grip tightens on his arm and you shove your head deeper into his chest. he moves his head away from your shoulder so he can place two small kisses on the top of your head

“talk to me, baby. needa know what’s up with you.” he pleads into the crown of your head. you sigh before speaking up.

“ i don’t know what’s up with me i just- it’s nothing bad i’m—” you’re desperately searching for the right words to use so what you’re about to say makes sense. “i just don’t—feel like myself today. i don’t know why, i just feel really bad today.” you let out a humorless chuckle and your voice dies out when you finish “m’sorry if i worried you” you sniffle.

he shushes you, his grip on you tightens when he hears you whimper “don’t..don’t fuckin’ apologize to me, got no reason to.” he spits. he sounds angry, and he is, why should you ever feel the need to apologize for feeling some type of way around him ?

“s’okay for you to feel that way..i do too, sometimes, you know ?” he knows you do. he knows you do because there are times where he comes to your room in tears, shaking and panicked. completely and utterly lost from the nightmares that had plagued him minutes before but knowing he had to come see you. you were there for him every time, gently soothing him and assuring him that he’d be okay. he owed it to you to do the same for you.

“s’okay to feel like shit sometimes, happens to the best of us.” he whispers “ but you can always come to me when you do, can deal with it together. an’ don’t go thinkin’ yer ‘bothering’ me either.” he says, parroting what you had just told him. “we’re together for a reason, dummy.” he’s soft spoken and his voice is so mellow despite his harsh little nickname for you, you could’ve missed it if he wasn’t sitting so close to you, it makes you a little dizzy and a little weaker in you’re already mushy knees.

he grabs your shoulders gently to get your eyes on him. they’re still a little glossy but they’re a little less dull when he looks at you “ we’re in this together, always have been, always will be, got it ? “ he asserts, waiting for your response. and then you smile at him, it’s faint but it’s there and katsuki feels like he can breathe again. he smiles back softly at you when you respond with a soft “okay.”

you suddenly grab onto him and pull him into you tightly, locking him in a tight embrace and squeezing like you’re pressing a lemon. it throws him off for a second before he’s squeezing you just as hard, pressing your body against his.

“thank you, katsuki. you’re the best” you hum. he presses a long lingering kiss to your temple as response, before squeezing around your waist “ course i am.” he gloats. the smirk on his lips grows when you snort in response “what’re you laughing about, hah? don’t think so? don’t think i’m the best ?” he jests, using this as an opportunity to tickle you mercilessly. you kick and squirm but it’s no use, katsuki doesn’t stop until you’re a heaving , giggling mess. tears in your eyes as you plead and beg for him to stop but he doesn’t let up even when you’re laying on the ground with him on top of you.

“ i ain’t hearing what i wanna hear, you know what i want from you, baby.” he chuckles at the way you desperately gasp for breath, choking on your own spit in the process.

“y-you’re the ! the best, ‘suki ! the b-bestest of the best !” you gasp out, pushing blindly at his face to get him away from you and he finally let’s you go. “felt nice enough to let you off with a warning, won’t end well for ya if you try me again.” is what he says, playfully warning you and waving his finger around in your face. you’re completely out of breath, there are tears in your eyes again but they’re happy tears this time and you still can’t stop smiling and giggling as you try to bite at his finger and katsuki is more than happy with this.

because katsuki’s favorite thing is your smile.

[bearlytolerant]

The Auction

inspired by those floral paintings I’ve seen floating around based off that one tweet.

[dragonroar64]

hey do y'all think pvp evbo doesn't really think of himself as a person anymore. do y'all think he's rationalized this to himself by thinking that surely no one would kill a person dozens if not hundreds of times, so that must make him something that isn't a person. do you think he has to be reminded that actually he is a person and what happened to him on the iron sword level was fucked up and wrong

how long do you think this took for other people to realize. who do you think figured it out first. I think it would be so fun(read:horrible and angsty) if it were the guard friend(who I'll call Raymond for convenience). Like Evbo falls off the ladder in his house or something and takes the trip back down as an excuse to talk to Raymond and somehow Raymond goes "yeah, well, I don't really like people" and Evbo goes "oh well I'm not a person so that's fine lol". like he would not take this seriously he'd just joke about it and only realize how horrible a thought that is after Raymond establishes that it's really fucked up

bonus points for if Raymond has to get the diamond swords to back him up in order for Evbo to believe that maybe this isn't the healthiest thing to be thinking :)

[total-drama-brainrot]

Assistant Noah AU + Alenoah Idea... After Alejandro lashes out about Noah liking his true self + true interests... Confused Noah asks why Alejandro doesn't want Noah to like his true personality...

Alejandro: "Because everyone only loves the fake, perfect, flawless me!"

Assistant Noah: "So, shouldn't you be happy that I prefer your true self?"

Alejandro: "But the true me is flawed and makes mistakes!"

Assistant Noah: "Perfect is boring and overrated... I'd take the 'clever, dorky, and dino-loving Alejandro' over the 'fake generic pretty boy Alejandro' any day... If it makes you feel better, I can tell you my true interests?"

Alejandro (trying not to cry happy tears): "... Okay." 🥲

The dialogue's a bit stilted, but I do like the idea.

Though, if anything, I think Alejandro would be the one to confront Noah about his apparently aversion to all things Alejandro Burromuerto (the persona), and Noah - being the incredibly blunt person he is - would plainly tell him that he knows a lot of Alejandro's personality is an act, and that he doesn't appreciate being lied to every time they interact.

Alejandro wouldn't know what to do with himself in this situation; he's spent near enough his whole life cultivating his social image and the persona he needs to play, to the point that it's become second nature for him. So for anyone, but especially someone as unassuming as Noah, to call it out as transparent and fake, would be a massive blow to Alejandro's ego and self-esteem. An entirely neccessary blow to his ego, but one he isn't exactly equipped to deal with.

And then Noah would clarify that he's seen the barest glimpse of the person beneath the persona; in the brightness of Alejandro's eyes whenever he talks about things he's truly passionate about (like puppetry and paleantology and skateboarding and playing the accordian and-- you get the idea), or in the occasional dry remark he makes about his teammates, or in the softness of his features whenever Alejandro allows himself to relax a little from his "perfect team leader" act. And that he prefers that side of him, because at least it's real - he wants to get to know the real, genuine Alejandro before he can consider them friends.

To which Alejandro admits that he isn't sure who the real Alejandro is. He's never been allowed to be anything less than the mask he hides behind presents, not just on Total Drama but in his day-to-day life, and he isn't sure where he'd even begin in seperating himself from the expectations that have been set upon him by his family and the world at large of who he should be. Isn't sure if he can.

Why can't Noah just accept him as the fraud he is, he'd ask. A broken plea from an equally broken boy who doesn't know what it means to be himself.

And Noah wouldn't have an answer. Quite frankly, he wouldn't've expected his simple request for honesty from Alejandro to result in a whole identity crisis breakdown from the other. He'd just stand there, speechless for perhaps the first time in his life, as the unbreakable pillar of Team Chris crumbles before him under the weight of the world on his shoulders.

...

And then they'd hug it out or something whilst Alejandro vents about his awful childhood to Noah, and Noah would think to himself, "Well, I guess I asked for this. Can't complain about it."

[potatobugz]

*picks you up and dips u in a vat of acid*

[obsessivecelestial]

@stormbreaker-290 (and by extension @static-x3)

What if… Static never reciprocated Sirius’ adoration? What if Sirius went completely lovesick?

“So he plucked one of his eyes, just to wear the white veil.”

:3c

[nehime]

need yall’s opinionn!!🌛

[sentientsky]

a tiny little ficlet based on this lovely comment from @queer4cryptids on this post! (i accidentally made it angsty, i’m so sorry!! but there’s comfort and gay yearning in there, i swear!) when the night falls low and settles against the side of the Earth; when the the dark begins to carry a certain weight, he shifts his stance. he lets himself breathe air he doesn't really need into lungs that exist simply by virtue of his inclination to breath. it's the same pattern Crowley's watched unfold a hundred million times times over—the stretching of a thread until it frays, three women, a set of blades; a wicked inevitability carried in the lines of time-weathered hands.

and still it never changes, never lessens the welling of grief that builds and breaks in his chest, that stagnates and stratifies like layers of sand upon gravel upon so many eons since he first fell from the sky and lost the right to mourn a woman hungry only for bread and a little kindness.

he leans back against a headstone, swallowing down a familiar hollowness. the sparrows have all taken root in the knots of tree trunks. the moon blinks back at him, clouds swaying like an eyelid closing to sleep.

he turns his face away from the light, sucks in breath for which he still has no need. the rough-hewn granite is going to scuff his coat; he knows this with the certainty of having lived in a world full of serrated edges for so many years. and yet he doesn't care. Crowley can't find it in him to give a damn because finally, finally he's there. he's there and he's real and tangible and it's been eleven months, two weeks, and four days since he's last felt the warmth of angelic skin so close to his own. not that he's been keeping count, of course. and Aziraphale's got that faraway look again. the one pressed into the lines of his face in the aftermath of a flood that tilted against the sky; the same one Crowley saw in the stark daylight of a death warrant unfurled and stamped with the name of the holy Mother herself. it's the same, hollow, teeth-gritted look Crowley himself wore as he stood on a hillside reeking of freshly-cut wood, bearing witness to yet another child of the Almighty thrown to the wolves. Aziraphale turns, then, and blue eyes meet black lenses meet amber-gold. "Crowley—" Aziraphale manages, choking it out in a half-whisper, like it hurts—like it scrapes his throat with bits of barbed wire. and, just like that, something in him is breaking and the oak trees are all whispering dangerous things and still, still he can't find a version of this story in which he doesn't lean closer, doesn't press himself forward into air that smells of earl grey tea and old books and something celestial and hallowed and holy underneath it all. and as though he's drowning—as though the moon doesn't watch them with a flickering gaze and the trees can't hear the brush of skin meeting skin—Aziraphale presses his fingertips to the side of Crowley's wrist. he moves no further. the air holds still, time seeming to freeze around them. it's intentional, he realizes; it's fire and it's heat and it's utterly fucking terrifying. even now, so far above ground, Crowley can nearly feel the weight of hellish eyes on his back. a shudder runs the length of his body. and yet. in the atomic space of that hungry, desperate, throat-baring yet, he turns his hand, trembling, to the side. he finds the angel's touch like a bird bearing North—like a compass forever calibrated to a single, fixed point.

"I know—" he rasps. “Angel, I know.” he twines his fingers with Aziraphale's, and it's positively electric. every cell in his tragically, wonderfully human body has turned pure gold, conducted and galvanized and sparking. a sharp, stilted inhale; a quiet anticipation carved out in the space between their pressed hands (and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss...). the graveyard is still. the grief is there, still. the grief might always be there. but the sharp edges dull, the welling in his chest grows steady and slow and gentle. and the world becomes a little less difficult to bear with the two of them holding it up.

[clegfly]

Been thinking chronically about my pmmm omori au and just had the evilest idea ever. Fuck. I’m gonna write for this now I am sparing NO ONE

[artacetinker]

THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH 😭😭😭😭😭😭❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

The previous post with my take on the King Krill took so long. It's only my second digital piece but I'm so happy with how it came out and I'm so glad so many of you like it I'm so happy

23 NOTESSSSSSS AHHHHHHH

Y'all are so nice I swear

Anyway

Since my other post sky has been gnawing away at my brain and the twin elders specifically has made a large portion of that

TA-DA!!!

Since they both have a prosthetic like arm each I headcannoned them to be conjoined at one point and wasn't sure how at first but I figured it out YIPPEEEEE

I honestly wanted to keep the masks and hairstyles because they look cool but their current (elder) outfits don't give the 'just-casually-fallen-out-the-FUCKING-SKY-like-it's-nobody's-business' vibe so I went with a modified moth outfit

Drew it during maths ngl but it was worth it

[guckies]

I think it would be hilarious if Foolish, Fit or Favela five aren’t able to be there when Leo, Ramon and Richarylson wake up so instead of any of the islanders taking care of them, Cucurucho picks them up and tells the islanders babysitting is included in the Federation Work Package™️

[sunshades]

#might end up biting the bullet n writing Very self indulgent cathy character study about food. As a little treat. Then thou shalt laugh at me for projecting but I will be right

[sysig]

Being a villain isn’t all fun and games! Just mostly (Patreon)

[evtoine]

i know i’m really good at thinking of things my attention span can’t follow through on, but i really want to write an antoine/evka longfic that covers the events of datv from their perspective. maybe explore some what-if scenarios and that sort of thing 🫣

[beetlethebug]

me, in the year of our lord 2023 making an aradave lyricstuck: anything for dopamine at this rate am i right?