#just have an idea for them yk?

[vanillamatchadove]

part from a fic im working on!

(took out the print layout for the screenshot to be read easier)

[xxplastic-cubexx]

auction results done for @ouchpotatoex as a part of the 2024 @marveltrumpshate charity event: thank you so much for your generosity and donations !!!!

[ohitslen]

Average university experience

[flying-cat]

I just thought of Izuku immediately shooting up in the hero rankings like a week after he becomes an active pro-hero again because everyone is so happy that he's back and Katsuki wants to be annoyed that Izuku ranked higher than him so quickly like he would've been, once upon a time, but he really can't be because this is what he worked eight years to see, and now he can finally compete with him again. So he sits in his apartment, TV on, watching Izuku try not to stutter his way through his first returning interview with fondness and pride, and thinks it's finally time to put some actual effort into climbing higher on the hero rankings.

(Not that being #1 is his priority anymore. He's just happy that he gets to fight alongside Izuku again, that they can compete with one another as equals, and that they can complete one another like two sides of the same coin. For the rest of their lives.)

[fatuismooches]

A compilation of a few notes in no particular order written by two odd scholars found by the Traveler on their journey throughout Sumeru. Some of the words have been crossed out or lost to time, making them illegible.

Forgotten Note (found in the desert inside a huge Ruin Golem)

[A page torn from someone's notebook that seems to be hastily written and forgotten.]

... I can't believe what I've just witnessed. We spent DAYS traveling out here to the desert because Zandik wanted to tinker with that huge robot for ages. Me too of course, but that's not the point. Here he was just a few moments ago, brimming with excitement at being able to pilot it. It was cute...

... And then not even a minute later, he was hunched over, clutching his stomach and mouth. I was initially concerned, but he merely waved me off and began writing at the speed of light, still holding back the urge to throw up. And that's when I realized this fool was ███-███...

... Zandik was going to give it one more go but I quickly stopped him. I wasn't about to have him getting sicker than he already was. Tried to fight me on it but he was dizzy enough to take himself out. He's currently grumbling at me in the corner, but he'll get over it...

... Silly man, he let me put his head on my lap while he rested. Good thing I packed some light snacks... but note to self: for the foreseeable future, don't let Zandik into any kind of transportation. Hopefully, he'll outgrow it one day though...

—

Zandik's Note (found on the edge of Sumeru near Fontaine)

[A short note containing idle thoughts - the lack of importance may have caused it to be discarded.]

... There is an area in the desert that provides a clear and close view of the neighboring nation, Fontaine. [Name] insisted on showing me it as we happened to be close by...

... I'm not particularly interested in that land, but there are some things that may be worth looking into. [Name], however, wants to get academic leave to do some research there - more truthfully, they want to try out the macarons. How typical of them...

I suppose it's not the worst idea. They are an excellent partner, plus the extra ███ would be useful for my ███ research, and I'd make sure those people would never know...

... Regardless, there's no rush. Perhaps one day we can go...

—

[Name]'s Observation Log - Page 34-35 (found in the rainforest inside a tree hollow)

[A page torn from an observation log wedged deep inside a tree, preserving a little bit of its contents - it seems the writer wanted to hide it.]

... Day 1 of my first expedition with Zandik. Of course, every course comes with a dreaded group project but I am happy to be paired with him. Zandik, however, not so much. He's barely spoken to me the whole time. Well, he barely speaks to anyone in general, guess that's part of the reason other students refer to him as ███ ███. But I literally live with him, don't I deserve some special privilege?...

... Day 2 of my first expedition with Zandik. I looked a bit at his notes last night so I could start drafting the research report, but then he snatched them away when he noticed. He's extra grumpy at me now. I wonder what kind of things he writes about...

... Day 3 of my first expedition with Zandik. We've gotten a lot of stuff done but he seems far more interested in ███ than looking at plants. There's this one ruin in the distance he keeps eyeing. I bet if I wasn't here, he'd be there. If I present him with a ███ ███ of each type, would he finally talk to me? Hmm, that'd be hard to hide from the sages though...

... Day 4 of my first expedition with Zandik. I lied and said there was a better spot to get samples and brought him to that ruin. Long story short and after a lot of annoyed Zandik later, we made it in. When the killing machines awakened, it seemed he had a bright idea and had begun instructing me to hit them in a very precise way. Well, he certainly knows how to use someone efficiently... After all of that, all of a sudden he had found his voice and began shooting off orders to fetch this tool or that textbook and so on. Never got a thank you but he compensated with some loud, excited mumbles...

... Day 5 of my first expedition with Zandik. Thanks to Zandik actually doing his share of the work, we finished the fieldwork quickly. I showed him what I had so far and he seemed pleasantly surprised, although his expression was still flat. As we worked, he wasn't as talkative as he was yesterday, but the silence wasn't awkward like before. Well, as long as I get paired with Zandik, I think I'll survive this semester, and it'll be a bonus if he warms up to me. Speaking of warming up to me, Zandik wants to come back to the ruin we went to yesterday - with me too!!!!! It'll be our little secret that no one will find out. I think I got on his good side a bit, he looks cute when he's smiling. His teeth are even sharper up close.....

—

Nearly Torn Note (found inside an ancient book in the House of Daena)

[A small paper that has nearly been ripped in half, but some of the words are still cohesive.]

... I ███ them. Why are they here? I told them I did not need help, nor was I interested in assisting them. But they're here anyway. Of course they are. When are they not? Is there ever a moment when they're not constantly chirping in my ear? No, of course not. I'm ███ to live with them after all...

... With their ███ smell wafting through the dorm after a shower, or the scent of their cooking that they specially make ███ ███...

... Their stupid voice is prattling away right now, and I ███ how I do ███ find it irritating. My mind seems to automatically ███ ███ anything their ███ mouth says...

... I found their touch repulsive, but now I ███ for them to...

... There is something wrong with ███...

[At the bottom lays a tiny doodle of someone, presumably the person who occupied Zandik's mind, and has been intensely scratched off.]

—

Collaborative Note (found in an old camp near the woods)

[An abandoned note that appears to be written by two people. The top half is messily written and smudged thanks to the large amount of ink spills and blots. The second half is neater but the writer seems to have given up.]

... My ███ is a ███. Thanks to ███ help, we were able to acquire numerous ███ to help with the ███ ███. Were it not for them, there could have been a great ███ in my ███...

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

...Alright, that's it. Zandik is banned from writing notes now. I'm drawing the line. I bought five pens with us, and he has broken four of them so far. It's barely been a few hours! I still don't know how he does it- okay well now he's tapping me impatiently to write down his thoughts. Best get on it before he breaks this one and starts using ███ as ink...

...After a series of ███ were conducted, it has been concluded that it may be ███ for a ███ ███ to be ███-███. Wait... all the ink is on my hand now! And it smudged more!! Ugh!!!...

... I'm going to start forcing him to wear gloves... he's getting his inked hands all over me... at least we can shower ███!...

—

Paimon and the Traveler reviewed the notes they found contemplatingly - it was definitely not all of them, considering how hidden many of them were - but they found themselves oddly intrigued by the multitude of notes left by these two characters. Paimon was more interested in the love story part.

"You know, Paimon's not too sure... she's getting some mixed vibes from Zandik here... he seems kind of a big meanie to [Name] to be honest!" The Traveler watched in amusement as Paimon got grumpy on your behalf.

"... But he does seem to lighten up sometimes. Maybe he's not as bad as we think. Guess we can't piece together their relationships just from some notes, eh?"

"Well, Paimon thinks they seemed like a cute couple, well, minus for some things. Mostly, um... Zandik's oddness which you can't really excuse but I guess it's okay because they're long dead! Still, [Name] sure had strange taste in men..."

[m1d-45]

room 11-13

summary: albedo is weird. no, not just weird- disgustingly strange.

word count: ~2.5k

-> warnings: implied stalking [him -> you] ; he is a weird creep!! brief + non described mentioned nudity (of reader, within a drawing)

-> gn reader (you/yours) in a modern au !

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

your roommate was… interesting, to say the least. not that you really had many expectations—unlike apparently everyone else, you didn’t come to university with a plethora of friends packed in your bag. you had no names to list on your housing contract, no familiar faces to look forward to when you came home, just you, a handful of cardboard boxes and a lingering sense that you’d forgotten something.

there was nothing you could pin about him. nothing in specific, no one catalyst you could point to. sure, you don’t see him often, but that isn’t inherently a bad thing. there’s nothing wrong with not going out much, there’s nothing wrong with being a quiet person when you’re living with a stranger. the common room is clean, the sink is (relatively) empty, and none of your things in the fridge have been eaten. he really, by all standards, should be a perfectly fine roommate, but…

albedo was a quiet man. you first met him when you moved in, delicately pouring exact amounts of water into a small tins over the sink without a single sound or stray droplet. he looked up, you exchanged names, and that was that. the rest of your day was spent unpacking in your room, barely hearing the click of his door closing.

you never quite asked what he was doing that first day, but you could put two and two together. he had a habit of leaving pencils or erasers or other supplies on the coffee table, and you often ran into him when he came out of his room to fetch them. you’re not quite sure how you never see him in the living room when you never told him your schedule, but… well, whatever. it didn’t take a genius to know that the guy with charcoal smears across his hands was an artist. and, if you’d somehow missed those, you sometimes ran into half-used palette in the fridge, beads of paint in a myriad of colors sealed neatly in plastic containers, changing every time you checked.

you weren’t sure why they were always there, as you’d definitely seen one when he was in the dorm, but… well, it’s not really your business, is it? maybe he’s busy, maybe he doesn’t want to paint, maybe he’s taking a nap, who cares. you grab what you need and go back to your room; there’s more important things to worry about than a stranger’s hobbies. honestly, you shouldn’t spend so much time thinking about him. you could hardly claim to know someone you never saw.

well, except when you did see him.

you grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge as you came back from your chemistry lab, not minding the usual palette of paint beside it. also as usual, you heard his door open as he remembered some random item, not minding the sound of his footsteps as you receded into your own room-

“wait! ah- please…”

you forgotten what his voice sounded like. it’s mostly out of shock, not recognition, that you turn around, seeing him lingering in the entrance to his half of the dorm. his hair is loose around his shoulders, catching the light from the window and glowing gold. his apron is stained with a rainbow of paint, matching the perpetual lines across his hands, and he seems a bit too nervous to be talking with someone he’s been living with for a few months now.

“…i couldn’t make it to the lab today,” he starts, words measured and not at all like his original call, practiced instead of panicked. “could i borrow your notes?”

…you’re in the same chemistry class? you’d never noticed. then again, you’re not sure you could pick him out of a crowd—it’s not like you two were exactly close… but giving him your data was honestly a non-issue. normally you wouldn’t think twice about it, except if he was in your lab section then he should know the rules about missing them.

“you’re going to have to retake the lab anyway, aren’t you? my report won’t help you at all.”

he blinks, like he’d forgotten that fact, and you half hope that’ll be the end of it. you still have your own work to get to, after all.

“still… it would give me something to reference, so when i do it i’ll know if my results are reasonable.” his brows are drawn, genuinely worried, crystal blue carrying a surprising amount of emotion despite the careful cadence of his words. “i’d greatly appreciate your assistance on this matter… i don’t have a reliable way to contact anyone else in the class.”

it only takes you a few moments to weigh the pros and cons. at worst, your partner can back you up if he tries to steal your work. at best, nothing happens and you’ve earned a bit of goodwill.

you shrug, taking off your bag and setting it on the counter, unzipping the main pocket and digging for your lab manual. you find it and flip to today’s lab, mentally wondering what an artist would think of the irritated scribbles down the side of the page. whatever the case, you hold it out toward the hallway he was before, only to find him barely a foot away. he’s stood over your shoulder, letting your manual bump into his chest without a flinch, without an ounce of the worry from before.

without an ounce of anything at all, really. his face is flat, empty, just staring down at the words in front of him without seeming to read them at all.

“…sorry,” you start, “i didn’t hear you-”

“don’t be sorry.” with a blink, he’s back, taking the manual with a gentle smile. “thank you for your help. i’ll return it by tonight.”

“…yeah, take your time.”

you’re not going to question what or why whatever happened did. it’s.. just easier if you don’t. you grab your bag and go to your room, focused on anything else.

you don’t find it in the common area, on the coffee table or by the sink or in any reasonable area. he doesn’t knock on your door to return it. no, instead, you trip over it the next day as you leave your room, squinting in the dark to see it laying on the carpet, a note taped to the front.

yeah, you’re not reading that. not now, at least. you’re certain albedo is a nice guy, if socially awkward, but… you can give him the benefit of the doubt later. you shove the note in a drawer and forget about it, going to class. if you just ignore it, you won’t have to deal with it.

it must not have been anything important, because he doesn’t ever bring it up again. it’s almost as if nothing happened. there’s a new pencil on the common room whenever you walk by, he ducks his head and smiles sheepishly when grabbing it, and nothing is new. you try to look for him in the lab, if only to be courteous, but never find him. it’s not a big class… but whatever, you’re not too familiar with his face anyway. after a week or two, you stop trying.

it’s wishful thinking, really.

you have to do a double take when opening the fridge one day, the paint on the palette looking, from the corner of your eye, like a human hand. it’s just skin-toned paints, delicately mixed into a color that somewhat looks like yours.. by the looks of it, he must have fussed with the tint for a while. normally there’s only small bubbles of paint, but this is excessively fine refinement.. he must just be a perfectionist.

you can’t leave your room without running into him. not just like before, with brief intersections as he grabs what he’s forgotten, but actual interactions. he sits on the couch, drawing in a small notebook, asking you about your classes like he’s not supposed to be in his own classes. sure, he could be taking some online, but it’s like he never leaves the dorm.

he asks as usual, one day, what class you’re going to. when you finally gather your courage and ask why he himself isn’t going to the lab, he startles, like he’d forgotten he was attending. there were plenty of reasons why he wasn’t going—maybe he was in a different section of the class, or he had a car and had reduced travel time, or quite literally anything other than silence. but he sat there, staring at you like you were the one who had mixed up your schedule, with the same painfully empty look as before.

you left soon after that.

if asked to describe albedo in three words or less, you’d fumble for a few moments before landing on “fine, but weird.” if asked to do so with any other level of detail, you’d probably end up saying the exact same thing.

and that’s fine. you didn’t really expect to become best friends with your roommate. but for archons’ sake, he’s just so… uncanny.

you’ve never seen any other food in the fridge but yours. you cannot remember ever seeing or hearing him leave or enter the dorm, or ever remember not seeing some sign of him being there. his door was perpetually closed, the faint sound of scratching coming from behind it, and he’d just… freeze at random. like he recedes into himself, leaving a hollow husk until he returns, eyes left as flat disks set into an unfeeling face. there’s nothing inherently wrong with not showing many expressions, but whatever he’s got going on is far more concerning than that.

so really, who could blame you for being curious? his sketchbook is just there, laying open on the table, only partially masked by the small bag of supplies next to it. the door to the bathroom is closed, you really shouldn’t be invading his privacy like this, but it’s not like he even bothered to close it.

still, it’s wrong.

still, having something solid to point to could really help if you ever need to make a complaint to an RA.

oh archons, this is such a bad idea.

before you can convince yourself not to, you walk over and sit in his usual place on the couch, picking up his sketchbook and gritting your teeth through the fact that there’s no way this is morally justified.

the current spread is plain. it’s entirely in pencil, repeated iterations of different kinds of jewelry. rings, with ornate spirals and diamonds along the sides, leading into a gem of many different cuts. some simple stud earrings, some hoops, a necklace draped around a half-drawn bust, the chain sketched to look like blooming flowers strung together. there’s some notes in another script, but other than that, it’s entirely normal. there’s nothing weird about a guy that draws bracelets in his spare time. but your mind itches to find a justification, searching for proof, and you’re already in too deep. despite your better judgement, you turn the page, doing your best not to drop it when you do.

it’s you.

you, at least six times on two pages alone. smiling, waving, fixing your hair, by the seven you feel faintly sick, fingers digging into the pages as you try to rationalize what you’re seeing.

it could just be a one off. maybe you have a particularly interesting face to draw? except the next page is the same, and so is the next, and you flip through them all with the edge of your thumb and it’s all you.

all of it. every single page that has ink on it has your face. from the very front to the very back, with only a page or two of white left, and it’s clear that the jewelry was an intentional decoy. there’s a spread dedicated to just your hands, one to various outfits he’s seen you in, one- archons, one in various stages of undress, barely granting you the dignity of keeping them from the waist up. the worst part, really, is how accurate they are, clear proof of just how much time he’s spent staring at you.

you recognize his voice now, quiet and measured as he calls your name. that could just be your heart in your ears, though.

he has that same blank expression again, standing in the doorway, looking between you and the book. you’re certain he can see the paled fingertips of your grip on the cover. “do… do you not like them?”

“…what?”

he settles back into himself, sad, shoulders slumping and eyes downturned. “they’re just practices, i promise. the actual painting looks much better…”

bile threatens the back of your throat. “the painting?”

“yes, the painting. the one i mentioned in my note…”

…the note. his note. the one you didn’t read. the one he gave you after a grand total of one significant interactions, before which you all but considered him a ghost. and he decided that making a painting of you was a normal thing to do?

“…it makes sense you forgot it. i can’t imagine i’ve ever come close to properly capturing your beauty… it doesn't matter the medium, i never seem to get it right...”

he crosses his arms, picking idly at his lips with one hand, like he’s discussing a particularly annoying problem on his homework and not the fact that he has drawings of you topless. after a few moments of mumbling, he shakes his head. “i’ll do better. i promise i will. one day i'll draw something that finds even a fraction of your perfection.”

you don’t care. all you want is to get out of here, to lock your doors and try not to call the cops while he’s in earshot. “it’s fine, albedo”

the lie is a poison that seems to sting him upon arrival, a ripple of shock crossing his impassive expression. “it's not fine, not at all. how can i call myself an artist if i fail to impress my muse? please, give me time, i promise i can do better-”

“it’s fine,” you repeat, setting the sketchbook down and realizing with another stab of disgust that he’s written your name on the front cover. you stand, hands buzzing with the echo of what you’ve witnessed, not caring for the crestfallen look on his face. “…you’re a talented artist,” you grit out.

and you’re going to be sick.

[cometblaster2070]

i made a post previously talking about madame morrible and her genuine on sight hatred for glinda and hatred for glinda and elphaba getting together and someone said something along the lines of it being madame morrible's personal homophobe origin story so now I choose to believe she started oz's version of straight pride out of spite because she just fucking hates glinda so much.

[cosmicvaca]

Part of my Kakyoin lives au. Noriaki has pieces in a new gallery, and Jotaro, though feeling very nervous (hence the RBF), comes to support his partner. The photographer also made him take off his hat for the photo.

Close ups and painting under cut

I kinda went nuts with their belts, but it's so them <3

[kakushigotofanclub]

Sanemi and Obanai have the most important character dynamic in KnY to me right now and I so badly want to write queerplatonic saneoba fic but I feel like my writing style depends so strongly on dialogue that I just can't do it because it would 100% be an unsaid thing. Like I envision their relationship would be something like...

'I hate everyone, but I can tolerate being around you. I might even. I might even LIKE being around you, actually. But there's no way in hell I'm gonna admit that, so we're just gonna pretend it's a coincidence we spend so much time together. We just happen to be in the same place all the time. But I'm not attached to you and I don't get worried about you or anything like that. At all. Ever. That would be stupid, so don't get any wrong ideas (but god just please be careful I don't know what I would do if I lost you.)'

You know. Like cats.

[amogus-real-not-clickbait]

here's some benreys for y'all!!! it's meal time little ones!!!! nobody starves today. i provide

also random gordo he's here too i guess-

[elyonblackstar]

Some drarry sketches to warm the heart 💖

[jerreeeeeee]

i don’t know if i’m ever gonna write the fic but i’ve been thinking abt like. the eternal stockade. the implications. lup, a lich who was trapped in a dark featureless cell for a decade completely isolated with nothing to keep her sanity but her own mind. she has to put people in the eternal stockade. how many liches does she see herself in. how many liches started out just like her. how many liches are truly too far gone. and the only liches we ever see other than her and barry are edward and lydia. they’re certainly evil, but mad? they seem pretty sane. they’re not, like, tattered echoes of souls, they’re definitely still people. even as much of a grudge as lup surely has against them, wouldn’t they remind her incredibly strongly of herself? do they deserve to be trapped just like she was? for eternity? isn’t eternity what turned john to existential despair in the first place?

[thatonegaybrit]

; the sentences " micro labels are valid and can be helpful and validating to people " and " people don't have to specify every part of their identity to you to be valid, and can use broad terms even if their actual experience is more specific " can and should coexist.

[mcytegg]

i fear my biggest weakness is having big ideas but also having adhd that nerfs me

[read-write-thrive]

the temptation to write a (mostly) canon-compliant fic where edwin is intersex/trans masc … like I’ve done the research and could incorporate so much angst … his family pushing to present him masculinely (as only child/family of all daughters?) … sending him to an all boys school with v strict instructions and not telling him shit … cue the bullying bc he’s different w focus on biological components of puberty (and tying in some asexuality?) … could incorporate the hell themes I was thinking of based on some other fics I’ve been reading … whole other layer of angst when it comes to him figuring out attraction w Monty/TCK/Charles … even when a relationship happens he’s all sorts of conflicted over it … not sure if he figures out the intersexuality when he’s alive or until post-canon but cue him doing all sorts of research … do you see the vision

[danothan]

Just reading some comics and saw a panel I thought you might like. :)

ah fuck, characters reminiscing always get to me ;__;

but i will never ever get over that fond way these two talk to and abt each other. especially when they’re poking fun, you can just hear the love in their voice it’s SICK.

the halbarry love language is annoying each other, but even more than that, it’s being each other’s exceptions