#its kind of a fic

[ohitsthemindstuffagain]

British Vogue presents ‘In The Dark Bag’ with Star of the Night the Vampire Lestat. The french vampire reveals his nightly essentials, as we try to take a look inside his handbag - with no success, since he would slap our hands every time we tried to touch it.

Well it's a bling-encrusted Mouawad 1001 Nights Diamonds Purse also well known as the most expensive handbag of the world. We wouldn't let anyone touch it too If It was ours. 

 ‘I hate when people take what isn't for them,’ says the star as he holds the little heart bag in his lap. He relents finally after some excruciating time when we practically beg on our knees for him to let us take a look. We are not embarrassed to confess that  we would do just anything for him, there's something that happens to you when you are in his nefarious presence, this will sound crazy but It was like we could hear his voice in our heads compelling us to give him everything. Well, he can take all he wants.

‘Fine’ he says at least ‘If we may’ and opens the little bag with such caring and hand trembling that we all hold our breath. ‘It's a pain. These little things that we carry with us every night.’ He starts throwing the objects of inside the bag on the table in front of him - the things fall on a slow-like dance in the air, like held by a magic spell. 

And so the items ARE all set on display to us. With precise moves he gets hold of a green and long cosmetic little pot. ‘I’m on a clean phase/not a thing to hide kind of moment. But I'm a huge fan of makeup, whatever… so the only cosmetic I'm going by these nights is this.”

We take a close look - closer as we dare. 'Its Jeffree Star’s gloss, from the Blood Money line. It has a pale kissed-by-the-moon effect that I appreciate, I guess.'

The next thing he holds is a little book leather bound - its so little you could cover it with your hand. Looks like a notepad but we couldn't take a pic of It. ‘Here I take some notes, write songs and also travel in time to, you know, remember why my heart is still beating.’ He opens the little book on an aleatory page. He makes a face and smiles. ‘Oh, it's a sonnet. Not mine unfortunately. It belongs to Vinicius de Moraes, a brazilian writer - his blood tasted like salt water huh.’

He reads the sonnet, of course, in a song toned voice, to our complete delight.

‘Sonnet of Separation Suddenly laughter was turned to sorrow Silent and white like the mist And mouths joined together were turned to foam And hands drove away what once they welcomed. Suddenly the calm was turned to wind That blew out the last flame in the eyes And passion was turned to foreboding And the frozen moment was turned to drama. Suddenly, no more than suddenly The lover was transformed in sadness And contentment into solitude. The close friend became a distant one Life became a wandering adventure Suddenly, no more than suddenly.’

There is red tears caressing his perfect face, we were devastated, the broken and consuming feeling grabbing us by the throat. And so he looks at the cam very seriously and closes the little book. ‘Well. Go buy a book.’

His hands start to move again and stop short over an old photograma. It's black and white. He takes some time to let us take a real look.

‘It's nothing. Just an old boyfriend. Ex husband. If you must.’ He says and we can see a black and slim man. Handsome and for the state of the photo probably deceased. He let us touch it and we can see there's something in the back,  a phrase in french. 

He takes it back. ‘As I said, it's nothing. In poor english it says ‘thank you, next’.' His cell phone rings, he takes it very annoyed. ‘Just a moment… oh, hello, mon amour…’ He covers the phone. ‘It's him.’ Looks at the cam again. ‘See it's really hard to get rid of the exs.’

He stands and walks out.  We waited for about an hour until he got back. When he does, he is in a better mood. Holds the photo again, shows It to the cam. ‘Here, take a close up. He looks like an angel, dont him? And I must be trustful, he is… How do you say it in english when you find the one, you know, for good?’ He asks looking far away, his expression dreamlike.

He sighs and sings ‘Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand? With every guitar string scar on my hand. I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover… or whatever she said’

He kiss the pic. ‘We are meeting up tonight. So let's just wrap It?’

We nod. 

He takes hold of a little red ipod. ‘I don't go anywhere without music.’ 

And so he takes a wireless headphone that is purple and decorated with little bats. ‘It’s a gift from my lover. He… he likes to give me cute and beautiful things - now. How time makes us better huh. But I still like to give him in return... art, head pain and sex toys but the intention is always what really matters. And I love him deeply, artistically, in a dirty and painful way.’

The last thing is a pot of lube, which is still sealed in the package. ‘Whats this… it's not mine. Oh…’ He take a close look. 'It's white wine flavored. Humm…’ He put the things back in the bag, his moves very more fluid. ‘As I said, he likes to give me things.’ He hold the bag close to his chest looking very emotive, fragile, pained and happy all at the same time. ‘Beautiful and expensive things. Nice things, silly things. We… have been separated for almost eighty years. I guess he owes me this. But it feels nice to be cared for and all this nonsense.’

And so hes gone, disappearing before our eyes.

[sirenetica]

Get a load of these dudes!

+ some silly romance-y stuff

[dapper-lil-arts]

I'm not the kind of person that's like "Here let me fix the canon" usually but like holy crap gen 5 implied a lot of messed up shit about our hero Twilight Sparkle lmao

[bubblingsteam]

[poppy-metal]

MARRIAGE COUNSELING W ART PLEASEEEEEEEE GOD THE DEVASTATION THAT TAKES PLACE ON THAT COUCH

i think about it alot. tashi staying with patrick, her injury never happening. your arts college girlfriend and now you're married and it feels fucking stagnant, your relationship. but neither of you wants to give up. neither of you wants to reveal to the other true feelings.

under the cut because this got long and i have a whole au in my hear around this concept

you're only in counseling because of tashi. because shes still in your lives, her and patrick. and she recommended it to art when they were having one of their 'friend' lunches. and now here you are, because of course art took her advice.

he hasn't said anything, though. despite pleading for this. saying he wanted to save your marriage, that he wanted to love you how you should be loved but he didn't know how.

so here you are, on opposite ends of the couch, with the counselor staring at the empty space between you like that in itself is very telling. you suppose it is, in a way. couples who want to stay together should be unified, shouldn't they? you imagine how it would feel, if art had sat next to you. put an arm around you. squeezed you to his side. would you even be able to relax into him? its been so long since you touched eachother that way.

"so im picking up on some distance here," your therapist says. shes a small woman. almost swallowed by her chair. her glasses are perched on her nose as she gazes imperiously at empty space separating you and art. "not just physical either, though thats rather obviously there. but emotional distance. do either of you wanna comment on that?"

you cut a glance at art, expecting him to speak up since this was his idea - well. tashi's. but he just looks down at his lap, quiet. spins his wedding band around his finger.

you feel an anger so intense it pricks your eyes with tears.

"well, i guess you could start with the fact that coming here wasn't even either of our idea. it was his friends."

and now. here art speaks. his head jerks up and she shoots you an annoyed look. "you don't have to say it like that. you always say it like that. her name is tashi and she is my friend. and it was her suggestion, yeah, but it was a good one."

you look at the therapist - janet. raise your eyebrows in arts direction like, get a load of this guy. your legs cross and you start picking at a stray string from the couch.

"first words of the session and its to talk about another woman."

arts inhale is sharp and you can feel his eyes on you but you dont look at him. you can't. you wont. you're right, anyway. he can try to deny it all he wants but you know - you know what you are to him. you know where all your problems stem. you dont need to be here to make any grand discoveries over a fact you've resigned yourself too.

"i see." janet says. "and art having a relationship with this other woman upsets you."

"everything upsets her." art cuts in, sounding tired. his elbow is braced on the arm of the couch and hes chewing on his thumb in one of his nervous gestures. he always did that, as long as you've known him. he was a nail biter, he'd chew his lips raw, he'd nibble on straws, the ends of his pens. he was either lost in thought or agitated. your guess was the latter. "nothing i do makes her happy."

"is this true? are you unhappy with art?"

your skin feels hot. you shift around in your seat. the attention is all on you, and it feels like you've done something wrong, even though you know its literally janets job to ask questions.

"more like i know I'm not what he wants and that makes me...... really fucking sad."

art knees almost knock against yours as he turns his body to face you, giving you his full attention the first time today. you cant meet his eyes still, so you look at the faded spot on his jeans. light blue, like his eyes. you wonder how hes looking at you. cant make yourself look up to see.

"what." he stops. seems to gather some thoughts. tries again, with a steadier tone. "what are you talking about."

you try not to roll your eyes. your arm flings out limply.

"just that this whole thing is a joke, art." and you let out an exasperated laugh, even though nothing is funny. nothing has been funny or light between you two in a long time. "we're only here because the girl you really wanted to marry, told you to get your fucking shit together. you didn't ask us to come here because you wanted to mend something, you're here to please tashi. because if playing a good husband is a role she wants for you - well, you want to play it right, dont you?"

its quiet after that. in the silence you cant help but think about those early days. when you'd been full of love and light and art seemed to be really happy with you. you'd go on dates to the movies, walk through the park together with your hands swinging between you. laugh together and steal kisses whenever you could. you felt high back then.

it didn't even matter that art had a crush on tashi, because hell, you had one too, at the time. but she'd started dating patrick, and they seemed to mesh well together. they were both so intense and passionate. back then, you'd been alot closer to tashi yourself. patrick too. you remember the way she'd rant about how much she fucking hated him, pacing around your room and calling him every name under the sun. and you'd sit there with eager curiosity, and ask her why she didn't end it then. if he makes you so angry, why stay?

and she'd get this faraway look in her eyes. kind of wistful. kind of sad. kind of happy.

"because he makes me feel fucking alive. hes like a - like a drug or something. i cant quit. its addictive, you know?"

that stuck with you. it still sticks with you. you remember being envious of that kind of passion. youe relationship with art had always been so easy. you dont think you'd ever fought by that point. you loved art. you felt safe with art. but were you addicted to him? if you broke up - would you feel withdrawal symptoms?

sometimes you layed awake at night and thought about starting a fight - breaking up for no reason. just to see if he'd fight for you back, if the missing of eachother would be so intense one of you would cave.

but somehow you knew that wouldn't be the case. thats just not how you and art operated. if you got angry, he wouldn't rise to meet you, he'd back down. if you ended things, he wouldn't chase you, he'd let you go.

patrick and tashi were fire and brimstone and you and art was ice and you were....... dirt. solid. walked upon. dependable and not at all exciting.

when art had proposed to you after college graduation it wasn't spur of the moment as it had been with patrick when he'd swept tashi up with a ring and a elopement to vegas. it was talked about and agreed upon and you knew it was coming.

you still said yes.

"you think," and arts voice has a barely concealed tremble to it that makes you look up, finally. you're shocked to see he looks wounded. so many of his expressions you can count on one hand - and this - this wasn't one of them. his eyes are dark, stormy. "you think i dont care about our marriage beyond what someone else has to say about it? you really think that?"

you hate the sliver of guilt you feel, because its not a crazy thing to feel.

"yeah, i really do."

because well, that's the truth of the matter isn't it? you and your husband stare at eachother. and it feels like you're looking at a stranger. not the man who's freckles you used to kiss. who's fears you knew. who's hands you know every callous of, every divot and fingerprint.

"it seems you two have very different views of how the other views this marriage." janet cuts in, sounding curious. she taps her pen against the open notepad on her lap. "art, would you like to chime in on why you wanted to come here? even at the suggestion of someone else?"

art stares at you for a long moment. his face is unreadable to you. his jaw works before his chest expands on an exhale and he looks away.

"i guess i - i just didn't realize how..... stagnant things had gotten until it was pointed out to me. harshly." he winces, and you wonder exactly what tashi had to say to him. you haven't talked to the other woman for some time. contact fizzling out after your marriage to art. he flicks a glance to you, then away again. "im not the best at being aware of shit going on around me." his hand comes up to rub nervously at his neck. "i guess you could say im good at brushing things under the rug. going through the motions. that sort of thing."

janet nods like this makes sense to her. well, great, you think. you know my husband more than i do.

"you're not a fan of confrontation, are you?"

art actually laughs. a genuine one. one that brings a dimple to his cheek and flashes his teeth. you stare at it, like its an exotic animal, and you wont see it again. quickly you catalog the expression in your memory, so you dont forget what he looks like when hes happy.

"yeah, no." he shakes his head. "but I think thats part of the problem. I've obviously let too much shit get put under the rug and now its so full other people are noticing."

you look down at your hands, lips pressed together. your face burns at the knowledge that tashi and by extension - patrick - know your marriage is in shambles. how embarrassing, to be caught lacking in such a momentous way. to come up short and have your husbands friends know about it. you wonder - does he talk about all the ways you make him miserable with them? does patrick shake his head, say, "she's sucking the life out of you, man." does tashi look at him with pity? like hes some poor abused cat that needs to be let in from the rain?

the rain of your marriage.

the rain of you.

you're the storm. you're the problem. you're not enough. art needs fire. you're not even dirt, you're glass. and you can feel yourself breaking.

"that clearly hit a nerve, my dear." janets voice is soft. soothing. she hands you a tissue and you realize you'd begun to cry. "do you want to explain what you're feeling about what art said?"

"i...."

you dab dab dab at your eyes. sniffle. look around the room, trying to collect your thoughts. they feel like flyaway dandelions. you dont know which of them to grasp.

a warm hand settles over yours in your lap and you startle. its arts hand. warm and calloused and tan, covering yours. the gold glint of his wedding ring winks at you, the engraved words etched into them, "my soft epilogue". a shortened version of your favorite qoute i think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love.

at the time, that's what art was to you. your life before him hadn't been easy. being with art had felt like coming home from a long day and falling into a soft bed. it had felt like being able to land after weeks of being made to fly.

you turned your palm up, so he could slide his fingers between yours. he squeezed your hand.

"i think, i. i think i just think - I'm a failure." your bottom lip wobbles. you look at your enterwoven fingers and it makes you so sad that you haven't done the simple gesture of holding your husbands hand in months. "the two most important people in your life are. are so passionate and loud. and i see. i see how happy they make you - and i cant - i cant b-be that for you. we aren't - im not - you dont need me. im not a limb for you how they are. you could extract yourself from me and be. be happier."

your breath shudders out of you.

"you don't need me." you echo.

you wait for him to pull his hand away. this is more than you thought you'd share. some of it you weren't even aware of till the words were spilling from your lips. but they ring true.

without patrick and tashi art would drown. without you..... he'd float just fine.

"and that's important to you." janet says. a statement not a question. "you want to feel needed by art, and you feel as though you aren't. that his needs are met better with his friends than with you."

you nod slowly.

"baby." the word sends a shock through you. not the word itself but how its said. art calls you baby all the time, in a monotonous kind of way. routine. now he says it softly. with feeling. he lets go of your hand in favor of cupping your cheek, still damp with tears, turning your face to his. he looks pained. "of course i need you. i know i haven't been good at showing it. i just - you shut down - after we got married. you've been like a fucking ghost. like you dont want me to touch you. like i could dissappear for all you care and you'd just carry on. i don't know. but i need you, okay? i. need. you."

both hands cup your face, he makes you stare right into him. the conviction in his voice takes your breath away. theres a fire burning there you've thought long put out.

"obviously we have shit to sort out, and we will. but you've got to. you've got to know that. tashi only pushed me to do this because she how - how desperate i was. that's all."

you inhale deeply. exhale. swallow hard. tears cling to your lashes. you reach a hand up to clutch at one of arts wrists. eyes fluttering automatically when you do. you feel grounded again. less like you might float away.

"okay."

"yeah?"

"yeah...." and you smile. it trembles across your lips. but its there. "we'll sort our shit."

art lets out a relieved breath. kisses your forehead, lingering there. the gesture so tender you get emotional again. you want to crawl into his lap, have him wrap you in his arms. you want to feel held by him, like you used to.

"our time is up." janet sets her pen down. smiles. "but i think that was a wonderful first session. i can see the love between you hasn't faded, and that's more i can say for alot of couples who come to see me. keep your chin up."

[olibensstuff]

they can’t stand eachother they told me

[wyervan]

stuff from this past weekend’s magma~ we have here…..

….a very stable and sane sun to match the moon a did a couple of weeks ago, aaaaaand….

…. @pluck-heartstrings ‘s moon, done in compliment with her own drawing just to the left. Believe you me, pluck is a very good magma drawin’ buddy. It was a very nice Saturday night~~

OKAY ALSO IS ANYONE ELSE HAVING THIS MAGMA COLOR WHEEL GLITCH?? it’s like locking up for me after moving it around like just a little bit and I have to refresh the page to move it again 😡 . I am on a tablet—not sure if that’s contributing.

[euripidestrousers]

I think one of my absolute FAVOURITE wolfstar tropes is Sirius doing things that are unintentionally attractive and seductive and Remus desperately trying not to react.

Sirius flexing as a joke - Remus raising his book to hide his flushed face

Sirius shouting at the top of his lungs, cheering for James on the Quidditch pitch. His voice has gotten remarkably low in seventh year. Queue Remus having a coughing fit, not taking his eyes off the game.

Sirius leans over Remus' shoulder to point out the potions ingredient he missed. Remus tries to twitch away and bumps his cauldron, spilling shrinking solution everywhere and now everyone is yelling and he's horribly flustered

Sirius "give me a leg up" Black meets Remus "Oh God his crotch is in my face, stay calm" Lupin

[seiwas]

thinking of kind of first meet with atsumu but he’s had the biggest crush on you from being a friend of a friend and the first time he talks to you he’s fumbling and stuttering and he doesn’t know what to say because you’re smiling at him prettier than he could have ever even imagined, and you’re saying his name, and did it always sound this good? did his ma name him atsumu because she knew, just like she always does, that you’d be saying it like that?

[bacchuschucklefuck]

gukgak specifically from my typing (man w/ three jobs & a creeping sense of dread)

[lucabyte]

I don't know how everyone isn't also always constantly thinking about how burial rites seem to be potentially one of the few things Siffrin instinctively remembers about their culture. But rest assured. I am in fact always thinking about it.

Textless version where they're just hanging out. It's fine!

[bioluminesced]

deep water

[mp100days]

087 - reigen takes mob out to get ramen for the first time. from another fic i’m really normal about

[dykephan]

i cannot stress enough how annoyed i would be to see any other couple acting this way. if my friend was acting like this with their bf while we were on a nice hike i would push them off a cliff

[cuteiemonster]

Honestly I don't have much of an explanation outside of I like the irony of a Blind Watcher. And. Well. Grian is right there for things to go awry like that. So,

This was created for the 2024 Reverse Big Bang hosted by @mcytblraufest !! Us artists had to create artwork for the writers to claim this time around! >:)

and speaking of writers.. my art garnered the attention of not one, but two writers, who both created fanfics based off of my art!! It's been such a cool experience seeing how differently they've both taken things and they're both VERY WELL DONE!!!!!!!!

" Glass " by @honeylashofficial

Parts make up a whole, but Mumbo hasn't been a part of anything for a very long time. He was okay with that though. The world was more than welcome to continue outside his window, as long as he had his oven and his cable tv all to himself. But every once in a while, the outside world comes inside, and he has to chase it back out with a broomstick. This time, his technique backfires in a way he never could have imagined. Or... Mumbo could count the number of his friends without even raising a hand. Who knew that a 30,000 year-old creature stealing his bed comforter could change that?

" Lost To The End " by Sary_Sary

Six months ago, Mumbo’s closest friend vanished without a trace, leaving nothing but unanswered questions. 6 months later, a strange creature appears in his bedroom, with no inkling of how or why. With no clue how this creature got there or what it wants, Mumbo is thrown into a whirlwind of confusion as he tries to figure out what is going on. Now, Mumbo has to continue trying to figure out where Grian went, all while learning what this creature even is, and how to help him without harming him in the process. To make matters worse, the only person who can help him unravel this mystery is the one person Mumbo swore he would never work with: Scar.

[ping-ski]

frick