#just pretend you are short

[anonymous-tals]

I was bored and couldn't sleep and as I was looking at some of the posts from this trend, the words "Jewish Miku Bat Mitzvah" came to me in a vision.

[mellosdrawings]

OOOOOO CAN I ASK HOW WOULD THE N2 SQUAD REACT TO EACH OF THEM DYING?

What have you unleashed?

(WARNING: Angst, allusions to death, all that fun stuff. Nothing graphic tho, don't worry)

Jamil

He shouldn’t be surprised.

Well… He isn't surprised. Jamil Viper doesn't get nice things. Not for more than a few months, anyway.

Every once in a while, life takes pity on him and throws some nice, agreeable news his way. Just enough so that he lets his guard down. Just enough so that he allows himself to think maybe things will get better. Just enough so that he can pretend he isn't chained to a fate he will never escape.

A letter to NRC, a plan that goes a little too well, a couple of upperclassmen who seem to genuinely love him for who he is and not who he pretends to be.

So of course it doesn't last. Life gives and life takes.

Kalim follows, Octavinelle gets involved, Leona and Vil-

Well…

He isn't surprised.

Jamil Viper doesn't get nice things.

Vil

They look at him like they expect something from him. Horror, anger, ugly tears maybe. Just a reaction. Anything. Anything at all.

Vil doesn't give them that. Doesn't give them an opportunity to pity him. Doesn't give them food for gossip. Doesn't give them any material to make this topic last for any longer than it has to.

He knows how it works. Someone snaps a pic of him at his lowest, someone records his voice breaking during an interview, someone catches his lips tremble for but a second, and everybody will start talking about it again. And again. And again. For as long as there is a reaction from him. For as long as the topic attracts views.

Suffering brings more views than success.

So Vil doesn't react. Doesn't say a thing. Doesn't acknowledge the topic.

Better to be a cold asshole for a few weeks than to hear about it for years.

And in the darkness of his own room, where there is no camera, no eyes, and no ears to witness his grief-

Vil cries himself to sleep.

Leona

It’s just sand.

Only sand.

For miles and miles, further than the eye can see, nothing but sand.

Ruggie had the clever foresight to send all of Savanaclaw packing when Leona got the news. They would be sand too otherwise.

Who cares.

Who fucking cares.

He could turn the whole world to sand and it wouldn't be enough.

He might as well turn his own heart into sand.

It would hurt less.

[hamletshoeratio]

Apparently, Eloise is a mean girl and is not a girls' girl???

[hyperfixationspam]

when a fanfic describes ed with a long beard: 🥰

when a fanfic describes ed getting a shorter beard: 🥰

when a fanfic describes ed shaving it all off: 🥰

when a fanfic describes ed cutting his hair short: (starts shrieking and throwing tables)

[al-luviec]

compiled whatever this is (and I run out of tag space)

meh HoT gifs (3/?)

[amethystpath-writes]

Could you please write a story where a fae and a human have been friends for about a year. However, the human finds out what the fae is, and freaks out, thinking the fae is toying with him or wanting to make him his servant or something. When in reality, the fae had always watched humanity from afar, and just wanted to play along to see what it was like to have genuine friends?

Always excited to see you in my inbox, love! <3

Listening to Stars

******

"You lied to me?" The human's voice cracked, and the fae felt the emotion like a whip.

"I would never," he responded, void of tone. It took control from the fae, to not respond how he wanted. To cry, or to yell, or to do anything with an overtly amount of emotion. He wanted to say, 'I would never lie to you; I can't,' but that felt like rubbing the fact in his friend's face.

"I never said I was human," he said instead, and instantly came to regret it. Rather than stopping while he was ahead, and possibly keeping his friend, the fae continued. "I wanted a friend! A real one. The fae..." He looked at his feet, not able to look the human in its eyes, then shook his head. "The fae are full of trickery and deceit. I didn't- I can't be friends with them."

The human could only scoff in return, obviously hurt by the fae boy, hurt that the fae would keep this a secret for so long. "You think I don't know your ways? That I haven't been warned all my life of the games you play?" He muttered to himself in the next moment. "A year. A whole year." It was surely meant for the human's ears only, but the fae heard it and wondered if his freind wasn't upset at himself as much as him for being fooled. Not fooled. I wasn't tricking him.

"Of course," the human started again, "a year is just a blink of the eyes to you. How many of you were in on this?"

"In on...this wasn't some elaborate plan!" The fae felt a heat like fire rise to the tips of his ears. "You all think we have the answer to everything, don't you? That our magic makes us so knowledgeable that we're bored and turn to trickery to entertain ourselves."

"Sounds about right."

Heat spread to the fae's hands as he clenched them in tight fists. He wasn't sure exactly what he was mad at. It could have been himself for hiding this secret for so long, ruining any chance of continuing to be friends with the human. If he had been transparent from the start, this moment could have been avoided. Then again, how could he blame himself when it was at the rest of the fae which created this perception of their entire race.

“What will it take?”

“What?”

“What will it take for you to believe me?”

Thinking, the human squinted. “Show me what you really look like.”

What he looked like? “And what would that prove?”

“Nothing, I just want to see.”

He didn’t change his appearance. It would just confirm his likeness to his human friend and push him away even more. “I’m not going to-”

The human shrugged. “I guess I’ll be going then. Have fun tricking the next”- he gasped.

Pale blue skin, freckles like stars, and a wicked point of the ear.

“So, can you really read the stars like they say?”

“Read them?” The fae’s brow lifted, and for two reasons. One, reading the stars? What did that even mean? Two, he expected a larger reaction from his friend, with all his demanding and suggesting there was so much distrust between the two of them.

“Yeah, like a book. They say fae can hear the stars, the stories of their creation and demise.”

A rumour. Humans loved to make those about the fae. Then again, this wasn’t the worst one he’d ever heard them spread.

“I thought you hated my kind. Now all of a sudden you want to know if we can speak to the stars?”

“Listen, not speak. You can hear their stories, but they don’t respond. The fae have their limits,” the human boy explained.

“Fae can’t hear the stars!” What an elaborate lie to create about something the humans know nothing about. “Your kind fears mine and here you are saying we talk- listen- to the stars? What do you even know of fae that’s true?”

A new argument sparked. “And what have you heard of humans?” Or so the human boy thought. He expected his friend to say something about pitchforks and torches or maybe even the fights that break out in pig pins, outside of village inns.

“I heard you make music. That you hold balls just to sway to said music and that there are people who specialise in twirly clothes. There are others that specialise in decor, plates of would coloured with berries or little…what did she call them?”

“She?” the human interrupted.

Memories flitted across the fae’s mind, but he kept his answer simple. “There was a girl, years ago, that ventured to our borders. The others fooled her into walking the way she came, but I followed her to a human town. She was a friend.” He stopped for a moment, looked the human boy in his eyes. “I did trick you, and I’m sorry, but I didn’t deceive you with magic. I knew your kind already. You make better friends than what the fae do.”

The anger from before melted away, and in its place was a melancholic blanket. It shrouded the fae boy’s mind, draped against his shoulders, and stained his teeth as he spoke.

“We can say goodbye now,” the fae said. “I won’t expect to see you again.”

“Your friend from before, do I know her?”

He didn’t expect the human boy’s to ask. In all honestly, he wished he wouldn’t have. “You did.” The pain he felt thinking about her was almost too much. At times, he would remember the human boy’s relation to her. At these times, the fae would make an excuse to go home, then hide somewhere deep in the woods so his own mind wouldn’t find him. They didn’t know about his relationship with the humans, but they knew something was odd.

“As in ‘used to?’ Was she from my village?”

“Your home,” he specified. “Do you remember the kid that visited your home, a friend of your sister’s?”

The human boy’s brows drew together, confused at the change of subject, no doubt. “When she was alive, yes. He was visiting his relative in another nearby village. Did you know them both?”

Nodding, the fae explained, “I knew her. I was him.”

Crickets chimed around the two of them, reminding both of the setting sun.

“It’s getting dark. I should go home before…anything happens.”

“The wolves don’t touch these woods.” But he understood. He hid beneath a guise, then did it all over again. “Take your time. I’ll be listening to the stars in the meanwhile. You can raise your torches and pitchforks.” He smiled as he caught the human’s eyes.

“So you don’t listen to the stars. You listen to my mind.”

“Only the second time I’ve done it, actually, but we’ll talk another time. Go home, friend.”

[phantomrose96]

is a Riteru read of ABoT the intended one?

It can be if you want it to be buddy. Go enjoy the world!

More genuine answer: I'm an aro-ace writer with a long long streak of gen-fic. Shipping doesn't interest me. I don't hate it; it just doesn't click for me at all. I joke that the only way romance ends up in the story is if it's a plot-necessity (Tetsuo and Jun are there because 'married man suspected of having an affair' is what pulls Reigen into the entire Mogami-possession plot. The Kageyama parents are married because they're, well, the parents. Teru and Mei's relationship is a joke until it's plot-relevant.)

So to me, I'm not writing Ritsu and Teru's relationship as a ship. But also? This is all pretend. It's all transformative. This is for fun. I absolutely know that if I were a ship-writer, Riteru would be the obvious choice. I know they're one angry-kiss away from being someone's enemies to lovers fic. So if you look at Ritsu and Teru in ABoT and say "they're holding hands, to me", go right ahead, go hog-wild, come play Barbies with me.

[cartoonsbyandie]

Who's Midoriko

Drew two things tonight with wildly different tones and wildly different levels of effort (The second is from Miss Congeniality 2)

[cathalbravecog]

frostbite avatar/icon i did because i can't have enough art of this bat now can i

[fullmetal-scar-simping]

That's... Still using the stone. That's still one genocider using the souls of the people he murder-transmuted to heal a different genocider and his cronies so that they could attain the class positions they desired. Whether the energy of the stone is what healed Musked-Stank or whether it was a bargaining chip is irrelevant to the point of absurdity.

A lot of mangahood fans just stubbornly refuse to see the actions of their beloved blorbos as the racist, fascist bullshit it is.

[fatuismooches]

I see the angst you're about to drop on the next instalment and I'm about to cope by throwing in a cute scenario ( ＞Д＜；)

So fragile reader's hands tremor, without going into the full details of it - in some cases tremors may worsen either temporarily or permanently

Sometimes, the tremoring only happens on one hand! (But that has very *very* serious implications in reality, so for the sake of keeping things fluffy let's just say that it was just a weird day for fragile reader)

So, reader one day wakes up, and during the check ups they notice that, oh hey! Their left hand isn't tremoring for once, they're getting better! Then they raise their right— it's really wobbly

Segment, thinking that the tremoring is gone for now because of that one steady hand and is now trying to clip a monitor on Reader's right hand to check their blood oxygen (pulse oximeter): "Do keep still, there are a few more tests I must run."

Reader: "I'm not shaking it."

Segment: "..."

Reader: "It's erm... yeah."

Understandably, the Segment checking up on them is low-key freaking out because: why is that happening?? What's causing that?!

Meanwhile, reader who is also freaking out but is batting it away with humour, looking at their severely quacking hand: "Hm... I kinda need that... Ah, well, I guess I have an organic stipple pen now... that *is* what they're called, right?"

Then for the rest of the day (while the segments and prime are trying to find the root cause of that abnormality) reader is coping by joking around with said hand.

Reader: *picks up a test tube with shaking hand, the hand swirls the contents with minimal effort* "Oh! Wait— that sorta works? That's very convenient, actually."

Zandik, stressed: "My dear, get back on the gurney before I place you there myself." (Is worried that they might spontaneously collapse)

Shaky hands were nothing that new to you, having lived with them for a while due to your illness and all the stress that came with it. In the beginning, you tried to ignore them, but after a few accidents, you came to terms with the fact it'd be easier for everyone if you let the segments deal with your tasks. Especially on days when it seemed to be worse than others. But of course, there are times when no one can predict how bad it can get. This being one such moment.. Sometimes it gets to the point where ironically enough the Harbinger outwardly shows more concern for your wellbeing rather than you. (Although he's gotten used to you coping with jokes, he can easily see through that. He doesn't want you to put up a front around him but perhaps this makes you feel better? Unfortunately, the only one who laughs at your jokes is yourself... The others are too busy with their nose in some of your records or a machine.) And although they can't exactly make the tremors go away, the least they can do is make sure you don't need to do anything strenuous. Yes, their almost forceful instructions seem restricting, but they always say it's for the best.

[triglycercule]

small leisurely moments like these mean more than expected

ok hi triglycergang. it's AUGUST?!?!?! ugh,,,, anyways here's my like once a month art piece because i am a slow ass artist. the mtt are supposed to be chatting at a park during sunset!!! also new au just dropped

you wonder why killer dust and horror are wearing those DISGUSTING outfits??? you wonder where killer's soul is??? well it's all gone in this au which is called uhhh.

jk fashion au... wooooo!!

first things first to know: this au is NOT my idea. it was originally someone on twitter's idea to dress sans aus up in nanchatte seifuku but i think their account got deleted/banned. and i cant find the account because it was a japanese account and probably has some random username. so just remember that this isn't my idea but i guess my own twist on it. i really wish i could find the og creator,,,,

second thing to know: what the fuck nanchatte seifuku/jk (just kidding) fashion even is. here's the link to read for yourself: https://aesthetics.fandom.com/wiki/Nanchatte_Seifuku. yeah that's jk fashion. i really loved this au when i found it originally because i myself dress up in jk and also i just really love soft fluffy things like this. this au isn't gonna be angsty or particularly elaborate or anything i just wanted cute things and women in my murder time trio. also this isn't gyaru btw

third thing: uhh my inspirations for this??? well my main one that i really wanna focus on is that feeling of happy sentimental melancholy. you know like after you finish a really fun day hanging out with your friends and youre on the drive home and look back at how fun the day was? that's what i wanna encapsulate :3 also i think that the day to day school life is really cute and sweet and i wanna make more designs for the other aus so my trio can have more people to hang out with

well uhhh i think that's it?? mayhaps i shall begin drafting up other designs for the other aus. i wanna make little mini comics for this too like 4koma because i love those short yet sweet comics!!! should i tag this? i think i should tag this perchance. also extra mtt notes/full designs below became i love these three they're my daughters

[akirathedramaqueen]

GUYS, LADS AND LASSES, DEAR HB COMMUNITY

Can I just thank you for saving my ass yesterday?

Viv killed me, delivering the final blow, and you resuscitated me-- with all your observations, analysis, memes, and support, and me not being capable of producing anything for you in return, and least not that quickly, I owe you eternally.

I love this fandom.

[sunnibits]

ok but can we talk about the transition from being the weird unattractive girl/boy as a kid to suddenly being percieved as a hot gay person bc that shit is so jarring. but also like really wholesome? like wow I don’t have to conform to cishet expectations of attractiveness and actually people find me really attractive for the natural way I look and present myself. that’s so wild.

[fluentisonus]

this is mean but when people try to do the 'period piece but with homophobia surgically removed from society & nothing else changed' it's like. where is the period part of this period piece. how did we get here. why not make it fantasy or something

[beanghostprincess]

A tale of daisies & larkspurs

For @sanusoweek || Day 2: Fairy Tale / WLW (pretend this was posted on time)

Relationship: Sanji/Usopp (F/F)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Recommend reading on Ao3 but the main ones are: Transphobia, gender dysphoria, child/domestic abuse, and violence (I swear this is happy too don't get tricked by my angst)

Chapters: 14/14

Summary:

‘I love you’, her mother always says. ‘My precious daughter. My angel.’ But her father’s words are still louder. “It is the only thing he will never be able to obtain.” He turns around to approach her numb body, as she uses her last efforts to hold on to Pedro’s armor. Judge doesn’t smile, but he has all the fun in the world when he frowns with disgust at his son. Son. “A true love kiss.” — Usopp smells like wild berries, daisies, and wood. Like ancient books, fire, and dirt. Like chemicals, poison, and deadly flowers. Like sunlight, wet grass, and thousands of thousands of songs Sanji hasn’t been able to hear. It is impossible to know what a song smells like, but she is quite sure they all have the scent of that music box Usopp made for her. She always brings gifts whenever she comes. It makes the princess feel less trapped and more… It wouldn’t be more, since she isn’t even a bit free. But it makes her feel free. Liberation, that’s what she smells like. Freedom.

Read on Ao3!!!

More of my works!

Check out @aimtodraw's fanart here!!! I loved it so so much and I had to hold myself back from screaming in the middle of work when I saw it--

Also @the-orion-inexpirience's art I asked them to draw quite obviously inspired by this fic!!!!!!! It inspired me so much to keep writing!!!