#i tried making this into a fic tbh

[qoldenskies]

i think its so funny when people take the way donnie acts at face value even though its a horrible lie because he's a horrible liar, while understanding leo is bullshitting very well despite him actually being GOOD at bullshitting. many such cases

[reineydraws]

@akarenweek day 3: reverence

i was excited about this one! i think a lot about the back scars hakuji must have, and how kyojuro would react to them if he knew.

anyways, here is also a little ficlet of the moment, because i couldn't help myself:

akaza wakes up from taking the cure, and kyojuro seems shocked when akaza removes his vest to reveal the multitude of old scars stretching gnarly across his back. akaza explains that it was from when he was a child, that he'd been whipped for stealing, that he couldn't save his father and that he couldn't save his new family, either. and then he murdered for revenge and got turned by muzan. pathetic, isn't it?

and kyojuro says, no, just sad. unfair. i'm sorry this happened to you. and kyojuro touches his back scars with a kindness akaza doesn't think he deserves. kyojuro presses his lips softly against his back, so light akaza almost doesnt feel it through the layers of scars that stiffen his body. his touch is gentle, tender, reverent, like maybe he finds something valuable in akaza, something still worth holding, and holding close.

akaza just turned back into a human, but it's kyojuro's careful fingers and his warm lips that make him feel human again. tears well up in his eyes, and blur his vision as they start falling down his cheeks.

he would say this weakness is pathetic, but he has a hard time believing kyojuro would treat anything he finds pathetic half as dearly as he treats hakuji now. if he can't believe it himself, then as always, he'll just believe in kyojuro. at least that, he can do for certain.

[harringroveera]

“We got ourselves a new Keg King, Harrington!”

“Yeah, eat it, Harrington.”

Steve pushed his sunglasses over his head, staring at the guy in front of him, with golden curls under the dim light of the room, beers dripping down his bare chest and stomach, making his skin glisten.

Billy Hargrove was his name, and he only knew it because he’d overheard it from Tina and Vickie when they were talking about his ass.

Blue eyes looked back at him, and Steve swallowed, tipping his chin up to exert confidence.

“Is that so?”

“Unless you wanna go against him,” Tommy quipped, egging him on further.

“So this is the King Steve everyone’s been talking so much about,” Hargrove said, taking a step forward. “I expected someone better looking at least.”

He widened his eyes, his lips parting in pure shock as Hargrove smirked at him, like the cocky asshole he was.

“And who is this?” His eyes darted away to Steve’s right side, his eyebrows raising in curiosity. “Why the long face?”

Before Steve could register what was going on—he could barely even react—Hargrove crossed the little space in the room, grabbing Nancy by the face, and he kissed her.

Steve’s stomach dropped at the sight, of Nancy clutching at Hargrove’s jacket, her nails digging into the leather. She didn’t push back, and Hargrove didn’t pull away.

And there Steve was, standing frozen on the spot like a stupid statue, watching some new guy kiss his girlfriend. Like an idiot.

The moment they broke away from each other, Steve finally found his voice to speak up about whatever had just happened.

“That’s my fucking girlfriend,” he murmured. “What the fuck, Hargrove?”

“Oh, shit,” Hargrove said, turning to him with the corner of his lips turning up. “Sorry, man, guess I gotta make it even now.”

He flattened his hand on Steve’s chest, shoving him against the wooden surface, before he kissed him.

To say he was surprised would be an understatement, and to say he didn’t enjoy it would be a complete lie.

Hargrove’s lips were soft against his, and wet, tasting of beer and smoke. Their mouths slotted together, and Steve found himself moving on his own, returning the kiss with the same passion Hargrove put into it.

No wonder Nancy didn’t push him away, because Hargrove kissed like a god, like he wanted to drink down the sound Steve made and consume him whole. It felt almost too forbidden for him to want more of it.

He splayed his hands on Hargrove’s sternum, feeling his damp and warm skin underneath his fingers, gliding them up to the curls of his hair and tugging at them, dragging out a low groan from the other guy.

The music was still blasting in the house, and he could hear the faint sound of surprise from some people around him, but he truly could care less. All he wanted was to kiss Hargrove.

“Don’t you dare,” Steve whispered against his lips when Hargrove pulled away, attempting to break off the kiss.

“Just taking a breath, Harrington. Don’t intend on stopping any time now.”

The smirk was sly, almost predatory, and Steve claimed his lips in another kiss. Deeper this time, with tongue, and he could taste Hargrove more clearly, feel his body flushing against him more warmly.

Hargrove’s hands were sliding down his sides, pulling at the belt of his jeans to haul him closer. The kiss was fervent and hot, stirring something in the pit of his stomach, and Steve did nothing but keep Hargrove close to him.

He didn’t want to let him go, or to end what was going on, which surprised him, to put it mildly.

Well, until something shattered loudly, and Steve finally yanked himself away from Hargrove’s incredibly tempting lips.

It was just some guy, apparently, who broke a precious vase in Tina’s kitchen, now listening to her scolding while he wiped his hands on the white cloth he was wearing, burping out a drunken sound instead of apologizing.

He looked back at Hargrove, at the pair of blue eyes that were fixed on him, at his swollen lips, and he was very aware of how Hargrove’s hands were still on his waist.

Of course, once he reeled back into reality, he remembered what had happened, and who was here.

He turned to look at Nancy, who was staring directly at them with her mouth slack and her eyes widening. The look of betrayal painted her face.

“Nance,” he uttered. “Nancy, wait, I can explain. I didn’t—”

“You know what?” Nancy held her hands up in the air, shutting him up instantly. “Have him, Hargrove.”

“What?”

“Yeah, take him, whatever. I don’t care. You look better together anyway.”

“Okay, let me get this straight,” Hargrove said. “You’re giving me your boyfriend?”

“Why not? Seems like you two get along well, especially with that kiss,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “And I will go get drunk. Have fun.”

When she turned on her heels and walked away, Steve looked back at Hargrove with a scoff.

“Did she just break up with me?”

“You did kiss me, Harrington.”

“You kissed her first! And she liked it!”

“What? Are you saying you didn’t?”

His words faltered in his mind, and he gulped. “I…did not say that.”

“Good, I was hoping for that answer,” Hargrove said, cocking his head to the side. “Wanna go to the bathroom and finish what we were doing?”

“What? Now?”

“Unless you don’t want to.”

Hargrove withdrew his hands from his waist, and Steve frowned. He looked around the room, and no one was paying attention to them at all. Even Nancy was standing in the kitchen, chugging down the alcohol while Byers talked to her.

His heart drummed in his chest, and Hargrove was still waiting for him, patiently, with that damned smirk on his face, like he already knew what Steve was going to do.

He groaned, grabbing Hargrove by the wrist. “Fuck it, let’s go.”

[beastsovrevelation]

I decided I'll try do draw Michael, so here's the sketch.

I'm... Not used to doing digital art. Please ignore whatever is going on with the chainmail, and on the shield. 😅 She's missing wings for now, also.

The reference picture is from some movie about highschool students that turn into characters from King Arthur legends. It may be called Avalon High. I think I may've actually seen it, long ago.

[tisajest]

Guaranteed way to get me to enter a new fandom/check out a new series:

read a really good crossover fic

[liedownquisition]

One thing that frustrates me sometimes is that the premise of the original RHATO team joining up together would not... take a lot to be made into something actually decent. Respect for the characters, really. Keep Kori's amnesia, keep Roy's isolation, but nudge the script a little:

Jason is vaguely familiar to Kori, because canonically they DID meet at least once when he was Robin (ignoring n52's everything tbh, the continuity still confuses me sometimes esp when some writers couldnt decide whether ot not 52 was a reboot or if they were going to keep referencing prior shit), but she doesn't remember, just has vague vibes and maybe he can help her with that if they knew each other? And Jason could try to help with what he can but he barely knew her, really. He's agonized bcs the only person he knows who might maybe help is Dick and he's Very Deliberately Estranged from the Bats.

Enter a tip from Talia. Maybe Jason reached out asking about the Titans, maybe she knows where he is and came to the conclusion that interacting with non-Bat heroes that he had a decently positive relationship before his death would be beneficial to him.

Roy's been off-grid since some time after Lian's death, pushing away everyone and deliberately running headfirst into things that could kill him. They're planning to televise his execution, but don't want to risk him getting rescued before that, but they can't hide from her spies. It solves a lot of problems then, doesn't it? Jason and Kori rescue him and he can help her with her memories and/or get her back in touch with the rest of their old team to help and Jason doesn't have to deal with any Bats himself.

But then they don't leave.

Kori's pretty content as she is, with people who know and have been helping her. Her memory loss isn't exactly life-threatening or anything and she's not in any hurry. Roy took one look at the two of them and came to the conclusion that he could help here, help both of them, and they won't judge him for what he's done or try to force him to reconnect with anyone before he was ready to face them/reality (if ever).

And Jason? Jason's a wounded animal snapping at anyone and anything that tries to come too close and covering up his own issues by fucking with shitty ppl & ruining their day. It's a bit of a challenge to make him chill out, but neither of the other two are afraid of that and he's already done all this to help them so why not return the favor?

Jason's the "leader", not because he's more qualified to lead a team but because he needs the feeling of being in control. There's only three of them and there's enough power & experience between them to compensate if anything goes off the rails & Roy's fluent enough in Bat from all his history with Dick to nudge Jason a little to the left if he has to. It's halfway between babysitting and a vacation.

(Amusingly this gave me the mental image of Roy & Kori in beach gear slurping colorful mocktails and Jason running around on an adult-sized child leash.)

You could even keep Roy/Kori, build it up slightly more, ect., ect. Just make it an actual relationship & not turning Kori into a sex doll lmao. I mean they were friends! Even without Dick they were friends with Each Other! & sometimes friendships can get sexual or turn into relationships!

None of this fixes like the racism & such in a bunch of the plot but that's a speech for whole different post I think, and I'm honestly not sure if I've got the chops to redesign all that. At the very least, it would be too big of a distraction from everything else I'm already easily distracted from working on lmao.

[sarcasticgaypotato]

This cat has a PhD

---

Fanart for Panthera by @idrewacow

I cannot recommend this fic enough, it is an absolute delight so far. It's a classic, traditionally lighthearted fanfiction trope being handled dead serious and it's everything I didn't know I needed. It doesn't hesitate to dig its claws (haha) into visceral discomfort for our lead, but it still has moments that made me laugh out loud. Can't wait to see what happens next!

[marshmellowtea]

transmasc chris isn't my favorite headcanon for him for deeply personal reasons however i can see the vision for it. my thing is though is that you're going to do it you HAVE to make him weird and repressed about it...........this is a man who's still actively in contact with his abusive conservative parents just because he's transitioned doesn't mean he's accepted himself in any way shape or form you know what i mean

[eridianfic]

꧁Late꧂

Take from me/what you want/what you need

Pairing: MC X Sen

Length: <1k

Tags: hurt/comfort, gender neutral reader, angst, general audience

a/n: there's so much angst inherent to Sen's concept! This is probably wildly ooc bc we know so little about her, but I couldn't help myself:) heavily inspired by two songs, embedded at the end.

You know she’s not in the bed besides you as soon as you wake. It’s not the temperature that alerts you. After all, her side is always cold as the grave, just like her. No- it’s the weight of the bed that’s different, the mattress pressing around you instead of shifting towards her, and the blankets pushed off to the side when she got out of bed.

You find Sen sitting on the window ledge in the kitchen, tiles cold under your feet. You’re cold too- the air is chilly on your skin now out from under the comfort of your blankets. It’s almost pitch black in the rkkm and you just faintly see her silhouette, a dark void in front of the moonlight outside. She’s nearly motionless but she acknowledges your approach with a slight turn of her head towards you. You breathe together, quietly. Her breath comes out slower, more labored. After a pause, she speaks.

“I don’t think I can stay here much longer.”

“You’ve made up your mind?”

She sighs, a deep, rattling thing. “You know I have. I can’t hold on longer for you. I’ve been trying. It’s not working.”

Her faint outline against the moonlight feels more akin to a ghost than a person sitting in front of you. You guess it’s only fitting.

“Sen, I know it feels hopeless, I know that. But listen, we haven’t been searching for that long. I think there’s a cure out there for you, something that will alleviate your suffering and bring you back to-“

She cuts you off. “Bring me back to you? Back to life? I wish I could be with you. You know that. I’ve been trying and trying. And when I tell you it isn’t possible, it feels like you don’t hear me. Like you’re choosing to not hear me. You need to let me go.”

Your breath catches a little as your throat tightens. "Sen. Sen, I'll give you whatever I can. Whatever you need from me. Stay here. Stay with me. We'll figure it out".

She laughs at that, sharp and jagged. It cuts into you. "What I need from you is your blessing. Your acceptance that the person you know is already gone." She softens a little, and you can hear the rustle of her against the windowsill as she shifts towards you. "You've fallen in love with a ghost. It wasn't meant to be."

You stumble towards her in the dark, kneeling in front of her.

"God, Sen. You told me we shouldn't get to know each other when we met. But aren't you glad we've had this time together? Don't you want more of it? There's so much we haven't done together, so much I don't know... If it's about hope? I'll have enough hope for the both of us." You scoff dryly. "All the sins in the world and the one I got was greed. I want you. I want more time with you, more memories, more opportunities to find out how to fix this". Your hand reaches out to hold her cold hand in yours, fingers running over the delicate line of stitches.

What you don't say is that she's the only one you have. That if she leaves, you'll be alone. Alone again, always betrayed, always left behind, never worthy of being fought for. With her, there's something that you've never felt before. Serenity frozen, isolated from the world. Insulated from each of your problems. A place, deep in the earth where you can hibernate, together. A grave, perhaps. Away from time.

Her hand slips out of yours. "Don't do this to me," she whispers. "I've been brought here against my will. When is it going to be about what I want, for myself? I can't. I can't sacrifice myself for them, for you. I don't want to. Help me find a way to end this. To let me rest in peace like I want to. Don't you know? I've experienced it. Peace, at the end of it all. The stillness and richness of soil, of stone. That's what I want."

You hate yourself for saying it, but you say it anyways. Mutter it, in spite of yourself. "My peace is you, Sen. How can I have that without you?

There's a note of finality to her voice. "I guess you just can't understand. It's not something for you to know. It's my journey to go on, and you can choose to accompany me or not."

You've known that she felt this way. Couldn't stop yourself from trying to convince her one last time. You nod. "Whatever you'll give me. Whatever time we have left together."

You rest at her feet for a moment, leaning against her knee. She places her hand at the nape of your neck, gently carding through the strands of hair. You sit there together, quietly.

Your head nodding sleepily and resting heavily against her leg causes her to pause. "Come back to bed. We'll start looking again in the morning."

You follow her upstairs. You'll follow her until you can't any more. Until she goes to a place you can't reach.

[nattensijus]

Okay, all those little touch prompts are just so damn cute and it’s hard to pick one! So could you pretty please pick one for me + Wesley/Lilah??

<3

28. feeling for each other in the dark / 55. tracing the lines on the other’s hand.

used a numbers generator and it gave me these two numbers! hope you like this <3 it reminded me again how much i love these two!! putting this under a read more here already <3

also on ao3 now!

when lilah returned to her apartment, the electricity was still out from the beast's attack and it's gotten dark. she got in her apartment with great difficulty, one hand trying to turn the key, the other holding her wounded side. her mind was wretchedly empty, her only thought focusing on the first-aid kit that was stored in her bathroom. Though when she tried to make her way across her apartment, there was a knock at her door. She opened it, against her better judgement, and found precisely the last person she thought would be standing at her door: Wesley.

"Now what? Come to finish me off, lover?", she asked roughly, his behaviour from earlier still on her mind.

He just stared at her, then gestured to be let in.

"Let me..."

She left her door open, really beyond caring for anything he had to say or do now after the day from literal hell that's been clawing her out. It chewed her up and spit her out, and no fancy office or seeing Wesley back in her apartment when he swore he never would be could fix that. She made her way over to the bathroom, when he touched her elbow and looked at her.

"Sit down on the bed. I'll get it."

"You don't even know where it is.", she argued.

He turned around to roll his eyes. It was barely noticable in the dark, but the annoyed look on his face was something she memorized, something she could recognize even with the bare light of the moon.

He returned a minute later, successfully with the kit in his hand.

"Will you finally sit down?", he asked, now exasperated.

Lilah finally sat down on the bed, walking slowly so she didn't walk into anything on the way. When she sat down, Wesley took place in front of her, motioning for he to lift up her shirt. Something about the position of him right in front of her, instead of on the bed next to her made her feel the intimacy of the situation. She lifted up her shirt, trying to slip out of it, but her body protested.

She caught Wesley's look, and nodded once, before he lifted the shirt off her, being careful of her wounds that were on her whole torso. He started washing off the blood that stuck to her like a second skin, and instead of feeling more comfortable, she felt like he was removing her battle armor with every spot of blood he removed from her ribs. They sat in silence for a while, until he stopped washing and applying bandages to her tortured skin. Then, letting off from her ribs, he drew up a line from there to her shoulders and back down to her hands, almost as if... a more romantic person would've said he wanted to ensure himself that she was safe, but lilah knew the extent of their arrangement. whatever she felt for him was of no regard and better off without mention. not wanting to show off more of her vulnerability than she had already offered today, she tensed underneath his touch. Wesley began tracing lines on her hand, keeping his gaze there even though she knew he couldn't make out much of anything, less of all her the form of her hand in the dark, but eventually, she did relax again. in the darkness, she felt like she didn't have to keep as tight a mask on as usual, could allow herself a moment of simply being touched and not having to deal with what it meant or how people perceived her. Wesley already knew she was tough as nails and he's seen her at her worst today (the less thought about that, the better), so she just stopped trying to school her expression in any form of a mask, and just let the day's emotions be. She sighed quietly, then looked back down to him.

"Why are you here?"

He didn't reply, but after a few moments, got up and got close to her again. Wesley gently put his hands on her cheeks, then they kissed again. It was gone before she could could reply, him closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against hers. He remained like that for a while, just listening to each other breathe in the dark, take a moment in the city's chaos for themselves, then he held his lips to her forehead and took a step back.

"I meant it. You should hide.", Wesley let go of her hand, then left her apartment.

[galacticlamps]

very minor thing I still definitely deserve a medal for:

being raised catholic, and now as an adult repeatedly falling in love with characters that fandoms like to declare catholic, but still managing to reject those headcanons because at heart I'm too much of a stickler for accurate analysis to get behind them when i know the person in question is really meant to be anglican/episcopalian/whatever other flavor of christian

i am being, as the poets say, so brave about it

[uchiha-gaeshi]

Fuck fuck fuck low self-esteem has ruined my life.

[btwn2lungs]

142 days later and I am STILL thinking about:

"Those who shine brightest require the aid of the deepest darkness."

Irreversible damage was done to me that day. It's crazy because Shigeki has NO idea the implications that statement has.

The minute Shigeki mentions Kazuki's name, Rei is so quick to remove him from the situation. He situates any and all failures as solely his own and tries to separate Kazuki from the himself as much as possible. I think he tries to separate himself from Kazuki even more so after the incident with his mentor because the events of the night confirm that Kazuki is something Rei is not and that is a good person.

[captainjimothy]

favorite stage of qunt hatesex has to be when they've been hooking up long enough that the hate has started to phase out and it's just kinda regular sex atp, and they're both aware of this, and they're both absolutely fuming about it. i may be kissing your ears but i am NOT your friend and i will DIE on that hill

[transhoverfish]

SECOND TO LAST CHAPTER IS FINISHED. LETS GO GIRLS.

[tsukasalover]

i have so many good ideas that are related to wxs Buuuut i have no motivation. Okay thats a lie enough motivation to draw every day get annoyed when im interrupted at all and make a replica of Blonde Man’s room but not enough to get back to writing. i dont really think anything i write is That Great compared to my acting and drawings and i probably need to improve a lot…… reread wxs stories or knock out at 9pm…. Mmmmmmmm…..