#it is very therapeutic to write.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

i don't feel like i can/should reveal much, but just know that i am halfway done with a very very special treat for you all.........

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[imalwaysaslutforthevoid]

The Summer Hikaru Died and onomatopoeia

I've wanted to gush about this topic for a while and i have no organized thoughts but a lot of feelings i need to get out. First and foremost being "Holy shit this manga is so damn loud" which is a weird feeling to have since manga is generally understood to be a silent medium.

And yet the Mangaka MokuMoku Ren has filled their work to the brim with sound. Now comics using onomatopoeia (words that echo a noise ie: crunch) is nothing new the sound of a fist hitting it's target and walls being wrecked is nothing new. But usually onomatopoeia is worked into whatever action is resulting in the noise

adding both a sense of motion as well as sound. Which is what makes The Summer Hikaru Died's use of it so unique and compelling. To utilize onomatopoiea you have to give up on space that could otherwise be going to deatil work in the background or foreground. Now this is fine with smaller unobtrusive effects like Wolverine's claw extending, and there's numerous example's where a sound will take up large portions of the page to show how loud something like a bomb going off is. But i've yet to see another comic western or otherwise so consistently use this facet of the medium to instill such claustrophobia and dread. As a slower paced horror manga The Summer Hikaru Died builds it's suspense mostly through atomosphere, the supernatural happenings weighing on the surrounding evironment until they break the surface

The use of sound is heavy, it's harsh, it's a vehicle to show how wrong things have gotten from the whisper of "it's coming" heard in the ringing bell of a train crossing to the omnipresent call of birds, bugs, and frogs that pushes in on the paneling shrinking the world with their cacophony.

the way sound shrinks the world making reader and character both feel suffocated by the drone is matched by how the manga uses silence as a way to make the characters feel exposed and vulnerable. the page is now empty of distraction the world of the story on full display and it still feels wrong it's agorophobic, at least amidst the din there was some sense of anonymity being just one voice among hundrends.

even the speech bubble feels out of place as it wanders off desperate to fill the space. The manga is full of these moments of sound and silence in some dance with eachother always too much or too little, never comfortable. It adds a lot to the horror of the manga, and is just one part of many that makes The Summer Hikaru Died such an excellent manga, every chapter I can feel my skin crawl as the setting becomes more hostile to the charactres while they uncover more of the truth of their circumstances.

[active-mind-15]

[Art related to my fic, Accidental Siblings.]

Friendos! I'm back with more cute baby Bokushi fanart based on this headcanon of mine from my fic. I know Mibuchi has shorter hair in Extra/Last Game, but I like being in denial so I gave him back his inches. Anyway, hope you enjoy the fluffiness. 🤭

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

current editing moodboard, please send help

[swordsonnet]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Magnus Protocol (Podcast) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Characters: Needles (The Magnus Protocol), Original Male Character(s) Additional Tags: Episode: e006 Introductions (The Magnus Protocol), Angst, Needles, Body Horror, Murder, Blood, Original Character Death(s), Character Study, Sort Of, the M rating is for violence not sex but there's A LOT of homoerotic subtext, plus some bdsm vibes but that just comes with the territory i think, (the major character death warning is for the oc) Summary:

Needles finds a new victim - or rather, his victim finds him.

have you been listening to the magnus protocol and found yourself in dire need of a fanfic from the POV of this week’s cringefail tumblr sexyman antagonist? no? too bad, because i wrote one anyway! check it out if you’re a fan of homoerotic stabbing and/or failguys covered in needles.

[nani-nonny]

I asked Radio a simple question about my peepaws… /t

@middlechildkin

Not a day goes by where Radio doesn’t flirt with everyone she sees hahaha! /t

[celestie0]

im really enjoying writing for ‘in holy matriphony’ the fake marriage trope is such a fuckin vibe

[artistcheez]

Working on a short story series centered around Hobo Heart, in which Slenderman doesn’t exist but the pastas somehow end up clustering together as a community. Mainly features OCs and is an excuse to use up the random horror story ideas I wrote down but could never use for a longer form stand alone original story. It’s called “Freaks of Bear County” on AO3.

Anyway this is Toby as a middle aged man and resident redneck. He is for the most part stable but still has some feral raccoon energy in him and will throw down with god if he looked at his “family” wrong.

[ender1821]

no longer a danger to herself or others

It was always going to be one lone victor. They craved entertainment, They were always going to sever the ties between the final pair and watch as the two fight, after everything they’ve been through. They wanted heartbreak. They wanted betrayal. They wanted the prized winner to realise in horror, what they had just done.

In the end, Pearl shields herself from the blast of a lit dynamite.

(Gem isn’t supposed to use her powers like this, but this is the one exception.)

[townofcrosshollow]

Low res screenshot of what feels like the first thing I've drawn in 50 years. Hopefully I will, in fact, render this. Also don't worry, it's consensual! Actually maybe that fact should worry you a little...

[therosebunpost]

Fruity Domino Belt

Steve isn’t very artistic, but maybe that didn’t matter.

CW: An absolutely heinous pizza combo, and Steve being self deprecating about his art skills. Reader is often referred to with Fem pronouns and is called Bunny as a nickname. Her style is very distinctive, but other then that, she is written as inclusive as possible!

————

The next Saturday, Steve is over at the Munson trailer. A six pack in one hand, and a notepad in the other. It took him a while to come up with something he could make, something useful, but then he remembered your notepads. He's been able to communicate verbally just fine, but with his hearing going down the drain by the year and his migraines making it hard to think, let alone talk, he figured he might as well.

You open Eddie's door with a flourish. Your eyes were big, and shiny while pulling him inside where Eddie was already stretched out in the living room. He's got a tiny figurine in one hand and the world's smallest paint brush in the other.

"Geeze, Munson. Careful or else you'll start wearing glasses like me." Steve snarks to avoid focusing too much on the furrowed brow of concentration on Eddie's face. The delicate way he paints the tiny shield of the figurine. Something Steve hadn't thought Eddie could do.

"Look who finally showed up, and with beer! You're worming right into my heart here, Harrington." Eddie jokes, reaching over to grab a can before taking a guzzling sip. You have Steve sit in the middle of you and Eddie, so he's boxed in, not that he minds all that much. Sure, the floor wasn't all that comfortable, but he was too distracted by the two of you to care.

You have your project spread out before you. You had paint at the ready, the beads and dominos carefully laid out as well. There’s some wire and some other tools that he didn’t know the name of.

“So…your making a..?” Steve trails off, knowing that Eddie told him but forgetting all the while. Even before everything, he had a hard time remembering things, but now a days he found himself forgetting more then usual.

You didn’t seem to mind, though. ‘A fruit belt! Its based off my favorite fruits.’ He admired the doodle you made. “It’s cute.” He admits, wondering if he’ll ever see you wearing it. “Though…how are you gonna get it to go through the loops of your pants..?” He asked, eyeing the tiny metal eyelets dubiously.

Shaking your head, you flip to the next page. He watches the way the little puffball on your pen sways with the vigor of your writing. You probably had great essays, he thinks.

‘I have a lot of baggy shirts, and I thought this would cinch them in a bit. Plus, the idea is just cool!’

He nods, not really having any reason to disagree even if it wasn’t how he normally wore a belt. Though, fashion in general didn’t really make much sense to him. Most of his fashion advice just came from what his parents wanted, or what girls said he looked nice in.

A tap on the shoulder startles Steve. The former jock whirling around to look at Eddie, who jumps as well. “Shit! Hey, I just…did you hear me? Just now?” He asked, brows lifting as Steve stares at him blankly.

“I just…what did you bring to work on?” Eddie pointed out Steve’s little pad of paper. Steve hesitated, lightly drumming his fingers on the cardboard cover.

"...I..thought I could…color this. And stuff." He taps at the book. "I've been um, forgetting things a lot. Having a hard time…hearing." It felt weird to admit this to the couple, but then again, he might as well be truthful.

You perked up, scooping up your book and making a vague gesture towards his. You were smiling, and Steve's face was burning as you put two and two together.

"Yeah, it seemed to be really helping you, so…" He shrugged and Eddie's lips turned up into a slow smile. "Cool. What are you gonna paint on it?"

Steve paused, now faced uncertainty. "I…didn't get that far. This stuff isn't really my…wheelhouse?" He gazed at the cover, his artistic career over before it even began. Though it seems you weren't ready for that yet.

'well, what do you like?' You ask, turning towards him with raised eyebrows. 'that's what inspires me, along with my outfits or an accessory.'

Steve bites the inside of his cheek. He knew the answer, but was mindful of the company he was keeping right now. Eddie, 'throwing balls into laundry baskets' Munson was right next to him. But Eddie was eyeing him curiously, and you looked so eager to hear the answer…

“Maybe…some baseball, or basketball?” Steve admitted, ignoring the faint fizzle of disappointment when Eddie scoffed. You leaned over, shoving Eddie on the shoulder, much to the metalhead’s protest. You gave your boyfriend a glare, hands on your hips.

“Fine, fine, christ. What were you thinking exactly? Like, a hoop? Or a bunch of balls?” Eddie asked, gesturing with his hand while trying his best to not roll his eyes again. Steve shrugged, tapping at the cover. “Was thinking about a bat actually. Or maybe something water related?”

‘I think either of those sound really cool. I have stencils in case you wanna add one of the balls to it?’ You hand over the floppy plastic, and Steve chalked it up to the light but he was sure your cheeks tinged pink when your hands brushed his. You also handed him rulers, pens, and paint.

Vaguely he remembers going over colors in art class. Red and blue make purple, red and yellow make orange, blue and yellow make green. He looks at the paint in both your pallets, the colors swirled and mixed into a rainbow of shades and hues. He starts with blue first. His glob of paint was a bit too big, and it only got worse when he tried adding white to make it lighter.

Shifting to look between you two, his puddle of blue doesn’t seem to phase either of you, so he just starts painting. He loads his brush with tons of paint, slathering the front of his notebook with it until the entire thing was covered and oh no, why was it bending, shit, yours didn’t bend like this-

“Uh, you want me to grab a hair dryer? That’s gonna take years to dry otherwise.” Eddie cuts in, eyeing the globs of blue on the paint. The paint wasn’t even fully mixed, so streaks of white marbled the over saturated cardboard. It was kind of pretty, but not what Steve had planned. “Uh, sure, yeah. Thanks.”

Shifting in his spot, Steve stared at the mess with a sinking feeling. Honestly, he knew it probably wasn’t going to look great. Art really wasn’t his thing. He liked it, but he didn’t usually stare at a painting and feel some sort of desire to do the same thing. Usually it was just him trying to find the ‘meaning’ that Robin told him about. What meaning was there to find in a bowl of fruit other than pretty colors? The guy was probably hungry when painting it, maybe?

He felt a tap to his shoulder, his head shifting over to look at you. At the paintbrush in your hands. Your notebook is laid there, the length of your previous conversation with him growing and growing.

‘Paint goes a long way! Though trust me, I’ve also had that happen a ton of times. While you wait for it to dry, do you wanna paint some dominos with me? I have the paint mixed already. :)’

“Oh, yeah.”

Picking up the brush once again, Steve eyed the way you scooped up the paint. A much smaller blob then his previous one, and smoothed it over the ivory plastic. He follows your lead, frowning slightly as it doesnt come out as smooth as yours. Little bumps and lines of paint that looked similar to his old elementary projects. Still, it was kind of nice. Watching the color cover the once blank canvas. “How do you get yours so smooth?” He muttered, looking between your pieces.

You reach for your pad, pause at the paint on your fingers, before shaking your head and turning towards him fully. Gesturing with your hand for him to watch how you do it. He turns, shifting a bit as his knee bumps into yours. You grab another domino, your paintbrush dipping and grabbing a frankly minuscule amount of paint in his opinion. You slide the brush across the domino, and it makes those same bumpy ridges that were annoying him before. You smooth it out with your brush, laying it out with the others before grabbing yet another domino.

This time you scrape the sides of the brush, and the paint glides on smoothly this time, like it was dyed instead of painted. You smile and show him again, and again until you encourage him to pick up his brush and try it out. Honestly, he could understand the appeal once he managed to get that smooth stroke down. Kind of like when he really perfected his baseball swing to get that strong, nearly effortless looking glide.

You reacted a lot nicer than his coaches, though. Beaming at him, and nodding in praise as he kept painting. It wasn’t perfect and there were moments where the paint still beaded up or looked patchy, but you were proud of him. That counted for something. You didn’t remark on how he should have picked it up faster, or how this was easy shit and everybody else could have done it. Didn’t say he was stupid, or dumb. It was nice, really nice. Still, it’s not long before he remembers you’re going to be wearing this, whatever it came to be.

“Hey, if you uh…need to re-do any of mine, it’s fine, Y’know? I get it.” He murmurs after a few dominos. “They’re kinda patchy. Don’t look as good as yours.” And after all, it really was fine. He couldn’t blame you for it. You were probably just trying to give him something to do after he basically fucked up his notepad. There was no way that was going to dry with that much paint on it, he realizes that now. Now he was going to have to go home with it, probably ruined.

There was a moment where you looked between the two growing piles before shaking your head. ‘They look good, Steve. Once they dry, do you want to help me put on a second coat? I need to do the same for mine. Usually these need a few coats before they really look good.’

He glances at your work, and doesn’t really see what you mean, but hey, he kind of liked this painting thing. Might as well keep it going, even if he sucked. “Sure.”

Eddie finally came back with the dryer in hand. It’s an old, clunky thing that rattles when the metalhead moves. The plastic coating that protects the wire is worn in a few spots, but it roars to life when Eddie plugs it in. “Let’s leave it in the kitchen, yeah?” He offers, scooping up the gloopy book carefully. “While m’ in here, you hungry?? Could order pizza? What’ya say baby?” He calls, turning the dryer on before popping his head out to look at you.

Steve ignores the faint heat on his face at the thought of Eddie talking to him, like that. To the both of you really. Being his baby, your baby.

“Hey, Steve?”

Blinking, Steve snapped his head up. You both were staring at him, expectantly. He blinks again and Eddie makes a snorting noise. “Are you hungry, man? What do you like on your pizza?”

“Oh! Uh, anything. Whatever you guys want, don’t really care.”

"Anchovies with pineapple and mustard it is!"

Steve retched before he could stop himself. "What?"

"What, you said whatever we wanted? Felt like getting our special, right baby?" He grins over at you, and despite your wrinkling nose you nod with a smile. Though Steve rolled his eyes.

"There is no fucking way you actually eat that." Steve deadpanned, stabbing towards him with the end of his paint brush. "Hell, ten bucks says you'll both puke."

"You're on!"

You sit up in your seat, suddenly a lot less amused. You hold your finger up to Steve, indicating you needed a minute before hurrying after your boyfriend. Steve can't help the smile crossing his lips as he hears Eddie laughing and apologizing in the kitchen. Not even trying to hide it.

"I was just calling his bluff Bun, I'll eat it, okay?"

Eddie's voice dipped softer to where Steve couldn't hear him anymore. He hesitated before slowly leaning over to peer at the couple.

Eddie has his hands cupped over your cheeks, thumbs brushing the soft skin. He has such a soft smile, and his eyes are like liquid chocolate when it comes to looking at you. You're brushing his hair away from his face, caressing his temple, adorable pout still on your face even with the tender gesture.

God, Steve didn't know who he wanted to be more at that moment. Get to feel your sweet touch, or to feel Eddie's? Or maybe he could get both, be boxed in between you two again.

Steve startles when Eddie catches his eye. There's a glint in his and Steve leans back with a panicked grunt. Oh fuck, he hadn't gotten caught as of yet, and he wasn't sure what would happen if they did. Could he handle it?

"Alright, pizza's ordered Steve!" Eddie called from the kitchen, leaving the jock to let out a sigh.

-

Three pizza's ended up coming to the munson trailer. The anchovy and pineapple was at the top, looking just as gross. Eddie made a point to squeeze the mustard upon it artfully, a gleeful grin on his lips upon seeing Steve's mouth turn down in displeasure.

"Don't worry, we got some others too, in case you truly don't want this masterpiece." Eddie teases, nodding towards the boxes. You were already digging into one of the boxes, a gleeful smile on your face. Steve settles on the third box, pepperoni and cheese.

"Okay, I'm changing the bet, twenty five bucks says you won't make it through the first slice." Steve shoots back, narrowing his eyes.

"Seventy five, and I'll eat half in one sitting."

"A hundred if you eat that whole thing."

Eddie's eyes widened for a moment before he let out a small scoff before offering a hand. "Deal, hope you got that sweet dough in the pocket of those tight jeans of yours."

Feeling heat crawling up his neck, Steve reaches out and clasps Eddie's hand. "Don't worry about that, man. Just focus on that shit you call pizza."

The doorbell rings a second time, and Robin steps in with a rush of apologies. “I’m so sorry, I got side tracked, and I didn’t know what to bring- Oh my god what is that-“

While you’re explaining to Robin the unfortunate bet, Steve offers a wave before going back to painting. Slowly dragging the color across until it was smoothly covered. He watched the way Eddie gobbled at his pizza, suppressing his laugh the entire time.

Robin soon plopped down across from him, and maybe you were just as opportunistic as Eddie, because you also eagerly suggested she help paint the dominos. “Sure! Though, it probably won’t end up good. Whenever I paint, I either use too much paint or too little and it looks patchy..”

“I can help, here.”

Steve wasn’t sure why he offered, but soon ended up showing her the technique you had. Robin caught on pretty quick, which he expected, and soon it was a small circle of painting.

“Didn’t know you painted, Dingus.” Robin comments with a smile, gently nudging him and Steve shrugs. “Not really, had a good teacher.” He turns to look over at you, and he adores the bashful look on your face. He could absolutely get used to seeing it more often.

——-

-

Taglist: @ali-r3n (DM if you wanna be added!)

[sweetybaty]

I think my fic is not good but somehow people like it, so to cope I call it Flippaky Twilighty fanfic

Maybe it doesnt make any sense, but it takes me out of the thought

"This is the skin of a killer Flakyyy😭😭✨✨✨"

[manonslayme]

Me: hold on I’m doing hot girl shit *writing a fic where Cassian gets his ass beat by Manon*

[reverie-starlight]

my eyes have been opened to the world of skincare

[indestinatus]

going into extensive research about 7x01 for my 7x13 Paris fic really tells you how much I'm invested in this prompt