#it's kind of tense

[rosescries]

All right. Tell us about that Ghaster man. What did he do this time. Hahaha

What hasn't Gaster done?

But they each have distinct little relationships with Momma. Some are pretty similar, some are better than others. Some are pretty unhealthy.

Underfell and Swapfell Gasters kept Sans and Papyrus a secret from their wives too. That's why the three don't recognize each other during the first meeting, they had no clue the other existed in the first place. Gaster had intended to keep it that way, but things happen.

[welcometogrouchland]

[ID in ALT] I've made posts before about Talia/Dick co-parenting Damian moments (will never happen but let me dream) and this came to me in a vision. Took me ages to finish for some reason 😭 and then even longer to post

[inkskinned]

there are a lot of posts out there that are positive and healthy coping mechanisms for handling the holidays. this is not one of them :)

i think there's like. going to be times in your life you will be stuck in a social situation that you cannot escape from gracefully. i do not know why the internet doesn't believe these times exist. it's not always just that your physical safety is at risk - sometimes it's legit like "i just don't currently have the energy or time to put in the effort of responding to this." sometimes it's a coworker you hate so much. sometimes it's just like, fine, you know? like you know you can handle your aunt when she's cheerily horrible, but if you actually set a boundary around her, it's going to be weeks of fallout with your father.

i don't know why people think the answer is always just "cut them out!" or "don't let them get away with that!" because ... the real world is tricky and complicated. i think kind of a lot of us have an internal "radiation poisoning" meter for certain people. like - i'm talking about the ones who are absolutely giving you gradual ick damage. like, you can handle them, but you'll be exhausted.

and yes. you absolutely should listen to your therapist and the good posts about handling others and set good boundaries and take care of yourself. prioritize peace.

HOWEVER :) ...... since im often in a situation with a Gradual Sense of Ick person i cannot just "cut out" of my life (without losing someone else precious to me) - i have sort of developed the most. maladaptive form of mischief possible. because like, if i'm going to have to listen to this shit again, i like to have a little bit of private fun with it.

now! again, i am physically safe, just mentally drained by this man. you should only do this with people you are not in danger with. which leads me to my suggestions for when your Unfortunate Acquaintance shows up and says oh everyone pay attention to me.

my favorite word is "maybe!" said as brightly and happily as possible. whenever the Horrible Person starts in on a topic you do not want to go further with, particularly if they make a claim that you know to be inaccurate, do not respond to it. you and i have both tried to actually argue with this person, and it hasn't gone well, because this person just wants the drama of an argument. however, "maybe!" gives them literally nothing to go on. it is incredibly disarming. they are used to people having some response. they know they can't prove what they're saying, and maybe! treats them like the child they are. it dismisses them in the politest way possible.

i like to say maybe! and then, in their stunned silence, immediately change the subject. this is because i have adhd and i will have something unrelated to talk about, but if you can't think of topics fast enough, i recommend just pointing to something and saying, "isn't that lovely?" because fuck you let's bring in some positivity.

by the way. that second trick - of pointing to something and stating an opinion about it? - that just works on its own, like, 70% of the time. i picked it up from teaching preschoolers. it's an intentional "redirect". it stops children crying and it also stops grown adults from finishing their explanation on why women belong in kitchens. dual wielding!

keep it silly for yourself. i absolutely do not care if people think i'm fucking stupid (it's more fun if they do) and as a result i will purposefully misunderstand things just to see how long it takes them to realize i've completely removed them from the subject at hand. when they say "women aren't funny" i get to be like. "which women." "all women." "all women in america?" "no in the world." "like the mole people? the people in the world?" "what? no. like, alive." "oh are we not counting the mole people?" "what the fuck are you talking about." "you don't believe in the mole people?"

similarly, i play a personal game called "one up me." my Evil Acquaintance literally knows this game exists (my family & friends caught onto it and now also play it) and it always fucking gets him. i don't know why. you have to be willing to be a little free-spirited on this one, though. the trick is that when they make one of those horrible little bigoted or annoying comments they are always making, you need to go one unit weirder. not more intense, mind you - just more weird. "you don't look good in that dress." "yeah, actually, my other dress was covered in squid ink due to a mishap at the soup store." "you shouldn't wear such revealing clothes." "wait, what? oh shit. sorry, your son tears off strips when no one is looking and eats them. i swear it was longer before we left the building."

the point of "one up me" is to completely upend this person's narrative. we both know this person likes setting up situations where you cannot "win" and then they really like telling other people how badly you handled it. in a usual situation, if you respond "please don't say something that rude", you're a bitch. but if you let it happen, you're letting yourself be debased. they are not usually expecting door number three: unflappably odd. because what are they going to say when they're telling everyone how badly you behaved? "she said my son eats her dresses" ".... okay?"

if you can, form an allyship with someone whomst you can tagteam with. where they can pick up on your weird "soup store" story and run with it.

the following phrase is amazing and can be deployed for any situation: "oh, be nice :) it's the holidays!" i do not know why this works as often as it does. i'll say it for the most random shit. i think this is bc most of the time these people know they're being impolite, they just like to fight.

godbless. when in doubt, remember that you could always start stealing their pens.

the whole point of this is - if you can't escape. maybe see how long you can just be. like. a horrible little menace.

[abyssal-ilk]

no more romance. romance is canceled. tell me about your warden/hawke/inquisitor's best friend and any info you want to add about their dynamic 🖐

[bluerosefox]

Masks and Moonlit Night

-Crashes through DPxDC window and sticks a new AU sticky note down on everyones foreheads-

ANGER MANAGEMENT MASQUERADE BALL AU!

Jazz is forced by her parents to go to all Masquerade ball at Vlad's, whose using Jazz as both a way to keep Danny in line (as well as Jazz, basically Danny can't fight back or he'll hurt Jazz and Jazz can't fight back because he'll also hurt Danny who he has locked up at the moment) and to 'impress' the elites (As much as Vlad wants to use Danny for the party he knows the boy would do something to embarrass him in front of them, he at least knows Jazz will keep her manners in check) with how intelligent his goddaughter is.

During the ball, Jazz (in a stunning dress and mask, think like manhwa worthy outfit tbh if you want) meets Jason (who lost the Bats/Birds most recent 'Not it' game and was made to go with Tim to Vlad's party) and both hit it off when they meet in the garden, under moonlight, both wanting some fresh air.

Jazz wants to enjoy her time with Jason but worries about Danny and thus tries to leave and figure a way to help him without tipping Vlad off she was trying to save her brother. However she notices she's being watched by some ghosts Vlad employed and no doubt would report her should she even try. So she kinda uses Jason as way to keep them being unaware of her planning... or at least that was the case until she noticed another Team Phantom member sneaking into Vlad's place and knows its only a matter of time before her brother is freed.

Within the hour she gets a text from Danny who tells her, he's out and gonna fight Vlad for locking him up, that Dani is with him too so it'll be double beat down and that he'll come get her soon.

She is pulled away from the text when Jason asks what books she likes to read and now with the weight of her brother needing to be safe, or as safe as he could be, is lifted off her shoulder she answers.

Its magical, its wonderful, and for a moment Jazz is able to actually enjoy this party, ignoring the pained hits Vlad was no doubt receiving from what she can hear with her liminal enchanced hearing, because talking to Jason, or J as he introduced himself as, was very fun and wonderful and wow he was very handsome even with his mask and-

Jazz is startled out of her wondering thoughts when she could hear someone in the party scream, no doubt Danny, Dani, and Vlad's fight probably bleed into the main hall and she could see people starting to run out.

Jazz sits on the bench as Jason goes running in, no doubt curious as to what is happening and going to get his 'brother' Tim who he came to the party with out. Jazz takes off her mask and sits it down the bench and waits before Dani appears and says they should get going, Danny is keeping an angry Vlad busy and that she can take Jazz home.

By the time Jason comes back, with a researching on his phone Tim, all he finds of the charming woman he met at the dumb ball he got dragged to was her mask on the bench.

[hatchet-boy]

my biggest issue watching supernatural is that I simply do not care for the 'hot bod' fanservice. like yes messers padalecki and ackles your abs are very impressive that must have taken a lot of hard work now can you please cover yourself in blood and lie on the floor and pretend to be dead while the other one loses themselves to grief at the sight of it? much sexier like that.

[dodger-chan]

Based off this post by @cheer-nympho

I thought it would be a silly drabble, but I made the mistake of sleeping on it and, well, here have some very nearly canon compliant demon Steve

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

Eddie woke up to pain.

“What happened?” he asked, not opening his eyes. If no one answered, he could go back to sleep.

“Steve’s a demon.” It was Henderson’s voice. Fuck, it was good to hear the kid’s voice. If Dustin was here, talking to him, it meant the kid was okay. It meant they’d made it.

“No shit,” Eddie answered, and then slipped back into unconsciousness.

It had been a joke, the summoning spell. Eddie had been bored, maybe a little high, and hadn’t believed any of that bullshit, anyway. Not demons, or satan. He hadn’t even been particularly confident in god.

“Oh, it’s real. All of it,” Harrington had confirmed, sitting cross legged in the chalk circle on Eddie’s bedroom floor. Only the red flames where his eyes should be differentiated him from the archetypal teenage jock. Well, the flames and the fact that he was in Eddie’s room to begin with. Eddie’s room was generally reserved for fellow freaks and nerds. “Time’s ticking on this summoning, Munson. Do you want to deal or not?”

The next time Eddie surfaced the pain was less intense. He was able to peel open his eyes. Wayne was there.

“What happened?” Eddie asked again. Wayne smiled, and squeezed Eddie’s hand.

“Think you’re gonna remember it this time?” he asked instead of answering.

“No idea. Tell me anyway?”

“You said that last time, too.” Wayne chuckled.

What Wayne told him didn’t match what Eddie did remember; obviously the mysterious government suits had provided a cover story. A shitty, ridiculous cover story that was only slightly more plausible than the truth. Still, one that cleared his name, so Eddie probably should be grateful. And, cover story or not it was good to know Henderson was fine aside from a mildly twisted ankle. Sinclair and Lady Applejack had gotten a few bruises. Red had a way too many broken bones for anyone’s liking. Something had happened to Robin and Wheeler the Elder, though neither girl would say what. Harrington…

Harrington had fucking vanished.

“What’ll it cost me?” Eddie’d asked. He wasn’t normally a cautious guy, but he’d read enough stories about deals with the devil to know they were tricky.

“Depends on what you ask. I mostly deal in small favors. You know, a girl who turned you down gets her period early and bleeds through her pants in class. A fire alarm goes off just when you were about to take a pop quiz. And I take something of similar value in return.” Harrington had frowned at him then. “Shit like making sure I end up team captain, or always get the good drinks at parties. It’ll be a little harder to get something useful from you.”

“Running the DnD club doesn’t count as recruiting souls?”

Harrington’s laugh could only be described as a cackle.

“What makes you think I care about recruiting souls?” he’d asked. “But no, it doesn’t. If I wanted souls, I’d do better with basketball. One soul per college scout.”

“What if I want something big?”

“What happened to Harrington?” Eddie asked Dustin the next time the kid visited him.

“I don’t know.” The others all said that, too. Swore up and down they hadn’t seen him since they’d split the party to fight Venca on multiple fronts. Henderson was the only one Eddie didn’t believe.

“Tell me what you do know.” It was a demand more than a request, and Eddie felt guilty making it. Dustin had to be missing his surrogate brother.

“After the gates joined, Nancy went through at the Creel House, but Steve and Robin came back for us. You were…um…I asked Steve to save you. He said he would. Then he went all demon-y, and asked Robin if she wanted anything while he was at it. She asked him to get Vecna. He must have. Because we’re all alive, and when El got here she said that One had been killed.”

“But how?”

“I don’t know! Demon stuff, probably,” Dustin snapped. “Steve carried you and me out of the gate, he put us in a car and told Robin not to worry about being a bad driver, just to head towards Hawkins Memorial and we’d get there safely. I didn’t see him after that.”

A deal with Dustin to save Eddie. And a deal with Robin to save them all.

“You and Nancy Wheeler, trying to shoot for the moon.” Harrington had shaken his head almost sadly. “She couldn’t meet my price. Tried her hardest for nearly a year. But even the hope of bringing Barb back wasn’t enough.”

“I don’t want anything as big as a resurrection.” Eddie had been thinking more along the lines of getting the house back. Or freeing Wayne from his father’s debts.

“Once we’re talking about anything of real significance, the exact size doesn’t matter. You see,” Steve had leaned to the edge of the summoning circle, like he was inviting Eddie into a confidence. “I’m not exactly supposed to be here. If I do anything too obvious, something that couldn’t happen without demonic intervention, I get dragged back to hell. So the price is the same regardless.”

“And that is?” Eddie had been through a lot more in his life than prissy Nancy Wheeler. He could stomach what she couldn’t.

“Love me.”

Robin didn’t visit Eddie in the hospital. She didn’t visit him at his uncle’s new trailer when he got out. Eddie had to track her down at work, pretending to need help finding a horror movie to watch on the VCR he didn’t own.

“I need to know what the terms of the deal were,” he whispered, leaning close as Robin tried to push him back with a copy of The Exorcist. The power of VHS compels you. “The one Dustin made with Steve, and the one you did. What was the price?”

Robin relented.

“Steve told Dustin the price of saving you was losing him as an older brother.” Damn. That was harsh.

“And Dustin agreed to that?” The kid looked up to him, sure, but Harrington had been his hero.

“Dustin thinks he’s smarter than he is. And he didn’t know about the whole-” Robin made devil horns with her left hand “-thing. He probably figured Steve was just being a jealous bitch, and he’d talk him around once you were stable.”

That made more sense. But, “Henderson never tried to make a bargain before? Even by accident?”

“You have to ask to make a bargain,” Robin pointed out. Which, fair enough. Dustin did tend to give orders where other people would ask politely. Harrington might never have had an opportunity to offer Dustin a deal. “I don’t think it was really a deal. Steve was just telling Dustin the truth; that once he knew he wouldn’t be able to see Steve the same way.”

Eddie wasn’t sure he bought that. Steve wouldn’t have saved Eddie for his own sake. It was a nice thought, though, that Harrington was capable of caring about Dustin enough to do real magic for free.

“What about your deal?”

“Paid in advance.” She scowled at him; if Eddie hadn’t already known the price, he’d have been afraid to ask. “How did you know about-?”

She made the devil horns again.

“I, uh, accidentally summoned him once.”

Robin lit up.

“You know how to summon him?” she asked, bouncing on her toes. Eddie nodded. “I know his name. His real name. After Starcourt, the Russians, when I - I can bind him. Eddie, we can bring him back.”

“Your price is sex and you’re trying to tell me Wheeler didn’t pay?” Gossip put Wheeler and Harrington in bed together a full year prior. Even if word of mouth had run a little ahead of reality, “I call bullsh-”

“My price isn’t sex,” Harrington had interrupted. “Sex is cheap. There for the taking whether I want it or not. Fun but worthless. My price is love. Romantic. Platonic. Familial. Doesn’t matter. But it has to be love. Do you know how valuable that is?”

Eddie hadn’t.

“It’s almost time for me to leave, Munson. Is it going to be a small favor? Or do you want to try to earn something big?”

The summoning went a lot easier with Robin’s help. Or maybe it was being sober when he set it up. Either way, the candles flickered and inside the once empty circle stood Steve Harrington. A little less human looking: tattered wings, blood stained claws, and just barely noticeable fangs were added to the flaming eyes. But he was still recognizable to Eddie. And to Robin, who threw herself across the lines of protection they’d carefully drawn less than an hour ago - smearing them into uselessness - for a hug.

“I missed you, too, Rob.” The voice was the same.

“Oh, right, quick, put this on.” She handed him a ring. One of Eddie’s - she hadn’t wanted to wait until they could find something a little more fitting of Steve’s image. “I bound you to the ring. I figured it’s portable, so you can take it with you if you want to leave Hawkins. You can wear it on your hand, or on a chain if you don’t want it visible. Just don’t lose it. If someone else takes it, they’ll be able to drag you around places. But I thought that was less of a risk than binding you to something you couldn’t move-”

“Breathe, Rob,” Steve reassured her, hugging her tightly. “It’s fine. Better than fine. I didn’t think…I never expected to see you again. Either of you.”

“Well, that was real dumb of you, Harrington.” Eddie grinned at the demon. The boy. His savior and possible friend.

It wasn’t possible to look intimidating with Robin Buckley clinging to him, but Steve gave it a good shot.

“You looking for another dirty magazine, Munson?”

“Uh, I guess I could use a new skin mag? The one I’ve got is starting to fall apart.”

“Check your mail tomorrow. One’s going to get misdelivered. You owe me one.” Harrington had smiled, smooth and perfect. He’d disappeared when Eddie’d blinked.

The next afternoon, Eddie’d found the newest issue of Blueboy, meant for delivery in Chicago. Pretty impressive; Eddie hadn’t even told Steve he’d needed gay porn. A week and a half later there was a note in his locker, telling him to pull the fire alarm at the beginning of third period.

And that was the end of it.

“Not this time.” That had been the end of it, until Eddie’s freshmen sheep turned out to be demon worshipers. Until Chrissy’d been murdered, and Steve had jumped in to help without asking anything of Eddie in return. “That used to be my ring.”

“I figured.” Harrington glanced down at the snake now wrapped around his middle finger. “I’m not giving it back.”

“Guess you’ll owe me one.”

“Guess I will.” Steve stepped out of the circle, out of Robin’s arms. “Are you doing Friday night? Come to mine. I’ll make you dinner.”

“You asking me on a date, Harrington?” Eddie was pretty sure that’s what Steve was doing. “It’s going to take more than one date to pay me back for that ring.”

Crazy how fun it was to tease a demon.

“I sure hope so.”

[canisalbus]

The way you draw bodies, especially the way you draw hands, is so genuine. It's so nice to look at because it looks so natural, graceful even. The body language and expressions of your characters say so much without them having to say anything at all, it's masterful work.

Thank you! Body language and believably expressive hand gestures are really high on my list of priorities and I put a lot of effort in trying to get them right. So it's really encouraging to hear people notice them!

[voidedjuice]

Alyssa

[justaz]

semi-dark king merlin au, someone from ealdor tells king cenred about merlin and he is captured and held as a slave in essetir. since merlin despises captivity and servitude, he’d rather be dead and free than alive and in chains so he acts out and pisses people (especially the king) off so they’ll think him too much trouble and kill him. at first they stick to beatings until merlin manages to get his chains around a few necks and now has a body count so they kill him…..only he wakes back up a few hours later and king cenred is Intrigued and keeps him close. merlin keeps acting out but no matter how many times they kill him, he won’t stay dead. merlin has this moment after waking up perfectly fine after his twenty seventh death where he is hopeless and believes there to be no escape, not even thru death. a few other sorcerers in chains come and help him clean up and give him a lil peptalk, realizing him to be emrys, and then they revolt and take over the kingdom and crown merlin as king and now uther is like “wtf” bc his neighboring kingdom who was kinda sorta on his wavelength about sorcery, though uther did not approve of keeping them alive, is now a kingdom ruled by magic. he goes to war with them but with magic running free and fucking emrys on the throne, they don’t make a lot of headway. anyways merthur meet on the battlefield, enemies to lovers, you get it

[pipwritesoccasionally]

"stay away from my husband!"

nanami x reader (of course)

in which nanami goes on a mission but doesn't come back for hours, leaving the reader to come to his aid.

gender neutral reader

wc: 1391

sorry if the special grade spirit/any of the cursed energy mechanics are wrong! i barely know how it works honestly.

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

you knew that he couldn’t handle the special grade curse with only one other grade one sorcerer around. hell, you’d told him as such this morning, and even offered to ask yaga to go on the mission with him, but of course kento’d refused. 

“i can’t let you get hurt, (y/n),” he’d said, only causing you to cross your arms in anger. 

“and you think i could let you? absolutely not,” but he’d continued getting ready anyways. kento left like always, kissing you sweetly before closing the door behind him. you knew he was cautious, but after hearing that three second grade sorcerers had gone to shoko in critical condition, you felt justified in feeling worried. 

the afternoon crept past at an agonizing pace, leaving you unfocused and stressed. you’d tried to relax, but the silence only seemed to amplify the sound of your pounding heart. 

he’d said that the mission should only last two hours, three if the curse put up a really good fight, but it had been six hours now, and there was no sign of your husband. you know that he can handle himself, but if he’s with another grade one sorcerer, especially someone younger than him, you know that he would do anything to protect them. 

“fuck,” you mutter, jumping up and rushing to your weapons’ shelf to grab your cursed weapon of choice. the sword handle chills your hand, but you sheath it quickly and run out the door. 

as you run, you scramble through your memories to find the address kento had told you earlier– “for safety”-- and throw it into your gps. the route hasn’t even loaded before you throw your car in reverse and make your way down the narrow street. 

“if you’re dead when i get there kento…” you know that you’re talking to yourself, but due to the high stress situation, you can’t seem to care. 

thankfully, the address where kento was sent to intercept the curse is only fifteen minutes from your house, though that does little to calm your worries. after all, if it’s so close to home, what’s taking him so long? 

the car slides in to a spot along the street, and you throw the door open, barely locking it before running into the building. grunts echo from above, and you start taking the stairs two at a time. when you make it up the first two flights, the air gets heavy with cursed energy, and you feel both relief and worry compound. at least somone is still alive. 

creaking floors and eroded stone decorate the inside of the stairwell, so you infer that the building has been abandoned for a while. that means you don’t have to hold back against whatever curse is there. 

the sounds of fighting get louder as you go up, until you find yourself in an open floor plan, face to face with the special grade cursed spirit.

who was seconds away from killing your husband. 

kento was against the wall, ragged breathing perturbing your already worried thoughts. seeing him in this state threw any hesitations you had out the already-broken-in window.

“stay away from my husband,” you threaten, tension grating your deepened voice. your trusty sword had already met your hand, and your cursed energy radiated into it in droves. the cursed spirit turned its head toward you, and it was then that you were able to really gauge the threat it posed. 

the beast’s long body coiled around like a scorpion, extending into a craning horse’s head. what’s more, two sets of long, feathered wings lay dormant against its body, creating a monstrous medley of an organism. the different characteristics of the curse most likely were the reason that your husband had such a problem with it, but you had the advantage of seeing it in its entirety before even beginning the fight. 

however, you felt the energy shift in the room, and your movements became slow, sluggish even. 

‘this must be part of its technique,’ you think, but unfortunately for the curse, you’d been a sorcerer for too long. 

it also helped that you had been adopted as a grade one sorcerer immediately after killing a grade one cursed spirit on your very first mission. as a freshman in high school. 

you ran to the other side of the room, hoping to distract the curse from kento, and swung your sword towards its body. it made contact, but the wound closed almost immediately. 

‘it has reversed cursed technique too? no wonder its special grade,’ this made the task of eliminating it much harder. 

“darling, i told you not to come,” kento said, stabilizing himself against the wall. 

“that stubborness could have gotten you killed,” you reply, striking the curse again to no avail. kento joins the fight, the two of you working together seamlessly. 

“i’ve been trying to find its weakspot, and i don’t think it’s anywhere in the body,” he says, and you nod. 

“then it has to be in the wings, i’d assume. cut them off and it should disintigrate on its own. hopefully,” you say, running towards the curse, sliding under it and slicing all the way down. kento follows, immediately making his way towards the wings, slicing at one. your sword lodges into the beast’s body, getting stuck part of the way through, and you push it up further up into the curse’s body. it screeches, and kento takes that time to slice the other wing. the two of you had always been such great partners, not even having to relay your plan before the two of you begin to work in sync. your movements begin to speed up, letting you know that your endeavor had worked. however, the beast was disintigrating too slowly, allowing it to still attack. 

your sword had been dislodged from the curse and you found yourself behind it, watching everything happen in slow motion. it thrusted its head towards your husband, clearly meaning to get one last attack in, and while he would normally be able to evade quite easily, he’d been here for hours and his exhaustion was clear. 

‘Fuck no,’ you thought, pulling yourself together and running straight towards the curse. all of the cursed energy you possessed was in your sword, and you made an arc, slashing it right through the curse’s neck. its head came clean off, and you positioned your body towards your husband, pushing him out of the way to take the weight of the head onto your own body. 

a crack echoed in the room, probably from one of your ribs, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. the curse disintegrated, leaving you on the ground, eyes peering over at your husband. 

he groaned weakly, slowly pushing to a stand, and he walks over to you. 

“are you alright?” his eyebrows furrow in worry, and you shake your head, sitting up. 

“i should be asking you that. you fought that curse for hours and are still standing upright. we need to go visit shoko,” you say, wincing at the pain in your abdomen. kento comes over, kneeling next to you and putting a hand on your shoulder. you grab his hand, and he helps you stand up, the two of you leaning into each other. 

“what happened to the other sorcerer?” he’d been sent on this mission with another grade one sorcerer, who was no where to be found. 

“he got injured really badly, and i had him leave so i didn’t have to worry about protecting him too,” your heart warms at his care for your fellow sorcerers, but you can’t help but sigh. 

“this is why i came to get you. i love how protective you are, but you need another person here for fights like this,” a low hum fills the room as he agrees, and you lean your head on his shoulder. 

“can we go home? i think we can hold off on seeing shoko for a bit, i just need some rest,” your husband’s voice is scratchy as a symptom of his shallow breathing, and you want nothing more than to help him. the exhaustion washing over your body tells you that rest will do the both of you some good, so you nod, and start walking towards the door. 

“okay, let’s go home.”

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Master manipulator vs Master manipulator

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[myokk]

My writing/reading question of the day:

Do you prefer present tense or past tense? Or something entirely different like future tense? For writing AND reading🫶

The more I write (I wish I realized how fun it was before this year😭😭😭) the more I realize I like to play around with language & tense choice can have such a profound impact on how your writing comes across & even how I feel as I’m writing. With my oneshots I’ve been playing around with only present tense & my main fic is past tense (but present during the flashbacks - idk don’t ask it just felt right😆).

Or does nobody else think about tense and I’m just alone in this😆😆😆 LANGUAGE IS JUST SO COOL !!!!

[tea-cat-arts]

Wei Wuxian is 35ish. Fight me

And its not like wwx has to be mentally younger/ less mature than his peers for his situation to still be incredibly tragic. It's just less a "man out of time" brand of tragedy and more the kind of tragedy that comes from being away from your hometown for awhile (in wwx's case, away because he was in metaphysical jail) and then you come back and everything's changed and your favorite store closed and your childhood best friend has a baby you had no idea about

[carpp]

obsessed with her

[fluffydice]

Shoutout to that one panel where Kuboyasu is like “I’ve never looked twice at a woman before.” Like okay, homoie

Also even funnier because he’s like “Don’t give into your urges!!” When he sees Teruhashi. Like, it’s okay dude you think she’s pretty. Even Saiki does. It’s fine bro.