#okay well have a great day!

[2021202121]

Hey everyone, life update, I went to Athens!!!

[b4kuch1n]

polymer broadcast signal hijack

[faynthearted]

OMG I've been trying to find a fic about switched family background au for 84 years but couldn't find it anywhere 💔 i love the idea of poor weak HT and spoiled rich GS lol

i would love if u share with us a snippet of it or share the whole fic 🥲 I'm sure it's really good since it's your work

hope you're doing well

I'm happy to share what I have of this AU, even if it's not much! :)

(also I'm like 98% sure I already posted this snippet on my old blog a long time ago because a certain section of it feels super familiar to me -- so, just in case anyone has been around long enough to recognize it again, I'm posting a longer/extended version of it! enjoy!)

------

The city is damp with old rainwater as Guan Shan parks on the curb. When he steps out the car, the night is peaceful, but deceivingly so. Noise often gets lost in the city, especially here in the developing urban areas. Late-night construction sites and the nearby highway overpass do well to mask any other miscellaneous noises. It’s exactly the kind of place Guan Shan would expect to find who he’s looking for.

Hands trembling, Guan Shan double checks the image on Qiu’s phone before half-jogging to the store sign flickering at the end of the block. No one is on the streets at this time of night, and he begins to doubt himself as he nears the storefront and still sees nothing. Are they already gone? Is he too late?

But just as he’s about to stop to get his bearings, Guan Shan hears the echo of voices. Breathing heavy, he slows his pace as he approaches the source: a rundown tailor’s shop, its door and windows shuttered, its flickering LED sign the same as the one in the background of the text message’s image. They haven’t left.

Guan Shan steadies himself before pushing forward. They can’t possibly be inside the store so they must be behind it, hidden in the alleys, and he’s right. From around the corner, shadows formed by a streetlamp stretch into view. Guan Shan can see two figures though he knows there are likely more.

But he’s more concerned about the noise — or lack thereof. On the drive over, Guan Shan was expecting shouting, arguing, fighting. The image left no room for misunderstanding the situation at hand. But now, as he comes closer, Guan Shan can only hear chatter; casual and collected, completely undisturbed. He clenches his teeth and clears the final few meters.

The building prevents the streetlamp’s light from touching him, so the two nearest men don’t see him at first, their backs turned. But the third one, lounging against the wall with a dying cigarette between his fingers, does. He must be surprised by Guan Shan’s presence given that he doesn’t immediately react. The hesitation gives Guan Shan a few moments to evaluate exactly what he’s walked into: to determine what damage has been done and, more importantly, what portion of that damage can be reversed.

But it’s wishful thinking. Upon spotting the person on the ground crumpled into himself and the scattered drops of blood that look like oil in the darkness, Guan Shan gets a horrible, nauseous swelling in his stomach that is only deterred by the third man finally coming to his senses.

“Red?” he slurs. “What are you doing he—”

“What the fuck is going on?” Guan Shan demands. All eyes turn to him and, somehow, it makes him feel grounded, secure to the earth. He grits, furious, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

The two men nearest to him trade a look. Then one of them drops their smoke, crushing it underfoot as they start, “Look, bud, we—”

“That’s a student, you dipshit!” Guan Shan snaps, pointing to the figure on the ground who, for reasons Guan Shan wants to ignore for as long as humanely fucking possible, cannot look away from Guan Shan now that he’s here. “He’s still in his uniform for fuck’s sake! How the fuck do you justify assaulting a student?"

Recognizing the escalation of the situation, the third man speaks up. “Your father is aware— This kid has had it coming for a long time now, and the little shit knows it—”

Guan Shan storms forward, over the blood and the broken glass, getting in his face. He can smell alcohol heavy like cologne on him. “Look at me. Look at me. Does it look like I actually give a shit what your excuse is?” he growls.

The man doesn’t respond, scowling against Guan Shan’s trembling anger. There’s a moment of silence during which they don’t break eye contact, and then one of the other men behind them shifts in his stance, exhaling.

“You ought to remember who the fuck you’re talking to, Red," he says, low. "I don’t give a shit who your daddy is. Watch your fuckin’ mouth and show some respect.”

Guan Shan likes to think that the man realizes his mistake just as quickly as Guan Shan does. Suddenly, it’s silent. Suddenly, all of the quivering anger traveling through his body like a live wire is gone, replaced with something much colder but much, much sharper, like a blade freshly honed and wielded. The man in front of him stays still as Guan Shan turns to face the other, deliberate and calculative.

“Yeah?” he says. There’s a pause. His target looks away, jaw stiff as he lifts his cigarette to his lips to take a pull. It’s only then that Guan Shan sees the dark purple bruise staining the side of his face. It’s fresh; swollen. Painful.

Guan Shan glances at the student and finds him still staring at him.

Idiot, Guan Shan thinks, looking away. Don’t you know not to fight back when you’re bound to lose?

“Get the fuck out of here,” Guan Shan tells the rest of them. “Now. And don’t worry — I’ll be sure to tell Qiu just how much I fucking respect you."

It takes a moment, but then the three men look at each other and come to a decision. They leave without another word, the only sound being the scuff of their shoes on the pavement and, later, car doors slamming and engines revving in the distance. Guan Shan stares into the dark until they can’t be heard anymore, overridden by the construction sites and the overpass.

Then, it’s just the two of them.

Whatever bravado Guan Shan held only moments ago has been lost. Now, there’s a rapid thudding in his chest and throat that is borderline painful. He doesn’t know what to do when the student — no, He Tian, because they can’t quite pretend they haven’t seen each other before, can they? — pulls himself into a sitting position against the wall, smearing blood from his nose on the back of his hand and rubbing the edge of his purple, swollen jaw with stained fingers and a repressed wince.

Guan Shan doesn’t look at him and that seems to be perfectly fine with He Tian. They stay in silence for a while, only broken by the occasional sniff from He Tian in an attempt to clear the blood. Eventually, Guan Shan just closes his eyes. His head and heart are racing so fast he can’t understand any of his thoughts clearly. All he can understand is the panic, the dread, the complete and utter exhaustion of coming to terms with what lies ahead.

He was so close to graduation. So painstakingly fucking close.

“Hey.”

Guan Shan opens his eyes. He Tian gives him a two-fingered salute from the ground.

“What?” Guan Shan blurts despite himself, incredulous.

He Tian’s head tilts. His voice is dry and croaked. “What do you mean, ‘what’?”

“I mean,” Guan Shan hisses, stepping forward, “what the fuck happened? What are you doing here?”

He Tian shrugs — then winces as it brings an obvious pain with it. Recovering, he says, “I could ask you the same.”

Guan Shan’s mouth snaps shut and he swallows dryly. Eventually he says, “Are you asking?”

“Should I be?”

Guan Shan’s gaze trails over his visible injuries: a potentially broken nose, perhaps a fractured jaw, a definite black eye. His school jacket is torn at the sleeve and there are small patches of blood soaking through his white t-shirt. God knows what damage he can’t see. “No,” he answers.

He Tian nods and crystal-like shards of glass fall from his hair and into his lap. It could be beautiful. “Then let's leave it at that. Give me a hand?”

He reaches out his hand presumably as far as he can without tempting pain, but Guan Shan doesn’t take it. The absurdity of it all seems to finally be catching up with him. He wonders if He Tian feels the same — as if piecing together a puzzle with no reference picture on the box. But even if he does, that doesn’t make Guan Shan feel better. Four school transfers and two different cities since junior high have built callouses on his ability to empathize. He’s long learned that people will sooner cover their own asses before looking out for someone else — especially him.

And of course, this time it has to be He Tian. He Tian. Top of the class, teachers’ pet, social fucking butterfly with a tempting grin and a sadistic streak often mistaken for boys being boys on the basketball courts after school, but Guan Shan knows better. He’s seen it before. He’s just never had a reason — or the interest — to poke the bear. But then again, he never thought he’d find the bear bloody and broken at his feet like this.

Is this reason enough, now?

“Did you fight back?”

The words spill out before he can stop them. He Tian considers him for a long moment before retracting his hand. He looks at the dark coloration of his knuckles that Guan Shan is staring at.

“Yeah,” he answers eventually. “I wasn’t going down without a fight.”

“Idiot,” Guan Shan breathes, throat tight. “You could’ve gotten off with a warning if you’d just — complied.”

He Tian laughs, but it’s broken and rattled and sounds like it hurts. “Thanks for the insight, but no, I really wouldn’t have.”

It sounds like acceptance; like a confession. It paralyzes Guan Shan. Looking down at He Tian’s bruised state is like watching venom take hold of prey’s body. Guan Shan just can’t be sure if it’s his prey or someone else’s.

He doesn’t know what to say so he chooses to say nothing. Instead he sinks to a knee, worrying his lip as he takes a closer look at He Tian’s injuries. Most are open wounds; they’re not life-threatening but are prone to infection if not treated soon. He’ll need some ice on that cheek and swollen wrist, and based on the awkward angle that he’s seated in, Guan Shan suspects bruised or fractured ribs. Remembering he forgot his wallet in his rush out of house, Guan Shan curses under his breath and considers the cash in the armrest of his mom’s car that he can use at the 24-hour convenience store a few blocks down to get gauze and disinfectant and—

“You don’t need to take care of me.”

Guan Shan’s anger returns, prickly. “I can’t just fucking leave you here like this, either.”

A huff. “That’s cute, but you—” He Tian winces. Breathes in, shakily. “You actually can.”

“I know you.”

“Do you?”

He Tian smiles sickly sweet and Guan Shan sees blood in his teeth. The nearest hospital, it should only be a few minutes drive—

“What the hell are you doing?” Guan Shan says as, suddenly, He Tian begins to pull himself to his feet. Every movement makes him shudder but he pushes through it, relying heavily on the wall. “What’re you doing? Stop, you idiot!”

“I’m leaving,” says He Tian, voice tight with pain and something else. “Thanks for coming to my rescue. Red, right?”

“I’m being fucking serious,” Guan Shan tells him sharply, hands hovering close but not knowing where or if he’s allowed to touch. “Stop moving. You’re gonna make it worse, and then what, genius?”

He Tian does stop then, but only momentarily. He fixes Guan Shan with a look that’s nothing short of a warning. Even hunched, he’s still an inch or two taller and Guan Shan gets the notion that He Tian still has some fight left in him. He has a sense of dignity but only as much as a wounded animal backed into a corner, teeth bared and pupils blown wide.

“I’m surprised,” He Tian breathes, “that you’re being so damn adamant right now. You hardly speak to anyone at school.”

‘How would you know?’ Guan Shan wants to shoot back at him, but sometimes a wounded animal can be more dangerous than a healthy one. This situation is a fight Guan Shan doesn’t think he should pick. Still:

“And your fucking fangirls will flip their shit if you show up on Monday looking like that,” Guan Shan snaps. “For a prospective valedictorian, you sure have a thick fucking skull.”

He Tian can’t seem to help laughing at that, the crusted blood at the corners of his mouth cracking. Even beaten, he acts like he’s done the beating. A forgotten, first-year rumor about a dispute involving him and She Li crosses Guan Shan’s mind, but he’d never had enough interest to verify it. It was much easier to take the information at face value and reduce them to just that: entertainment, however fleeting.

Eventually, though, He Tian’s laughter fades out. Guan Shan is too distracted by a fresh drop of blood falling off the edge of his nose to notice He Tian taking a step forward to leave — as if they’re done here. But Guan Shan quickly comes back to himself, sidestepping against the brick wall to block his path of escape.

He Tian’s gaze slides over to him slowly, a small fire lit in his eyes. His profile bleeds into the night’s darkness like it belongs there.

“You’re fucking serious right now?” he asks lowly.

“I’m fucking serious. Sit down. Now.”

He Tian shakes his head and scoffs, disbelieving. But against all odds, he turns and sinks back down the wall, hair mussing against the brickwork as he grunts with the effort. Something deflates inside Guan Shan and he follows him back to the ground, kneeling.

He Tian takes a moment to collect himself, a thin sheen of sweat on his skin while he rests the crown of his head against the wall, eyes closed. While he waits, Guan Shan says, “You need a hospital, but is there anyone you should, like, call? Where’s your phone?”

“They took it. Smashed it, actually, and then threw it onto the tracks. So.”

Guan Shan scowls. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

He Tian’s eyes open. “What?”

“I said I’ll buy you a new one. And are you talking about the train tracks? Like, the metro?”

He Tian blinks once, twice, then nods. “Yeah, the metro. The station around the corner.”

Guan Shan considers the many things he could say right now. “But why did they—”

“Thought we agreed we wouldn’t be asking questions, Red.”

There’s a danger there but Guan Shan can’t help himself, snapping, “Don’t call me that.”

This seems to intrigue He Tian. “I suppose I can’t ask why?” he ventures, snarky.

“No,” Guan Shan bites back, “you can’t.”

He Tian watches as Guan Shan slips out his own phone, pulling up Qiu’s business number since his personal phone is currently in Guan Shan’s possession. The line only rings twice before it’s answered.

“Qiu? Yeah, I need— Fuck, I know it’s late, okay? But I need you to come pick me up. Yes, right now. I don’t really have an address so I’ll send you my location; I’m like ten minutes from the house. And bring first aid, whatever you have. It’s—”

Guan Shan looks at He Tian. He’s quietly watching, wearing a ghost of a smile that he doesn’t bother to hide. Guan Shan looks away, suddenly finding all of this to be very comical because whatever they’ve gotten themselves into, neither of them know how to handle it. That much is crystal fucking clear.

Guan Shan exhales. “It’s urgent.”

[triglycercule]

what if because dust and horror wouldn't wanna be called anything aside from sans in a multiverse context and they were both good buddies they both just start calling eachother sans. i'm sans (dust) and i'm sans (horror) ahh duo

becaaause horror in his eye(s) still sees himself as sans!! he's sans!! who else is he SUPPOSED to be god 😒😒 stop attatching this stupid fake name onto him that just points out all his shortcomings in his au and also just dehumanizes him (because i get that aus are named after a key trait of something but COME ON the guy's name is HORROR it's like naming a poor person "brokie" or something,,,). horror is PROUDLY sans smh

and dust ALSO sees himself as sans!!! like,,, granted he's definitely not a better sans than he was before considering everything he did (but he still doesn't like his past self's inaction) but he's STILL SANS. nothing about him changed (really?) enough to warrant the whole identity shift. like dude dont discredit him DONT DENY HIS WHOLE LIFE!!! he IS sans no matter what,,, dust doesnt wanna think about what he became if he's not sans now anyways lul :3

now could they fight over the right to the identity of sans??? possibly,,, but also consider this: there are literally infinite numbers of sanses in the multiverse. at some point the shiny title of Sans would be something horror and dust are used to around the multiverse!!! so why fight over the name (that so many others share already so its not exactly exclusive) when they can just decide to make each other feel better!!! be delusional TOGETHER 🤞

[patolemus]

Stiles sits in the front row at the funeral.

He’s next to Mellisa, who hasn’t been able to stop crying since she got the news. Stiles’ dad had organized the whole thing, talking with the funerary home and picking up the coffin and the arrangements. He’d only asked Melissa what she wanted on the headstone.

Raphael had showed up the day after. For the first time in his life, he’d looked a mess, hair everywhere and clothes wrinkled as he stormed into the house asking what had happened to his son, tears already gathering in his eyes before he even got a look at Melissa’s face. Stiles hadn’t made fun of him. Stiles hadn’t said anything at all. Raphael sits on Melissa’s other side now, and she grips his hand tight enough it turns white. He hasn’t been back for five years.

God, Scott hadn’t seen his had for five years, and now he’s dead. Scott’s dead.

Stiles thinks it still hasn’t sunk in. He’s in the middle of his best friend’s funeral - it’s closed casket because his body was so mangled up that the EMPs could barely recognize him. Stiles had heard his dad on the phone with one of his deputies talking about it, before he’d realized just whose body they were talking about - and it still hasn’t clicked that Scott won’t be coming out of his casket, that this isn’t some kind of sick practical joke for getting him out of bed the night before school started.

Stiles is not crying. He hasn’t cried once since hearing the news. His dad is crying, sitting on his other side. Scott’s like a second son to him.

Was. Scott was like a second son to him. Was because he’s gone now. Because he’s dead.

Scott’s dead.

His best friend since preschool is dead. His brother is dead. The kindest, most caring person in the world is dead. Stiles goaded him into going to the preserve to look for half a dead body - and God, he’s such an asshole. A dead body? What was he even thinking? - and now Scott doesn’t even get to show his face at his own funeral because whatever killed him barely left any of him to bury.

If only he’d stayed. If only he’d told his dad Scott was with him that night instead of leaving him there. But no, Stiles hadn’t wanted Scott to get grounded because he dragged him out of bed, so he’d kept quiet. Even when he’d seen the pair of red eyes and that— that thing in the corner of his eye. Stiles hadn’t said anything. He thought they’d laugh about it at lunch the next day.

Now Scott’s dead.

Scott is dead.

And Stiles knows exactly what did it.

(He’s going to fucking kill it.)

[idkwhattoputhereidontknow]

My idea of kid Yuu! \^o^/

So, I have a Yuu that's basically a kid that's around 10-13 and has extreme PTSD from stuff in their world and is very mature because they had to be independent and all that crap. Totally not a self-projection. But they also have a lot of bad habits like; barley eating, not really opening up to people, freaks out when people yell at them or when they get in trouble, just stuff like that... I can just imagine how Yuu would react and interact with the other equally traumatized students at NRC.

I feel like they would comfort every character after they're overblot and be like "There, there, I know how you feel. It'll be okay..." Just imagine this little kid that's way to mature for their age cheering up some irresponsible teenage boys. It would be both heartwarming and kinda sad when the boys overblot and Yuu just completely shuts down but still comforts them afterwards. Yuu would also probably be scared around the dudes who overbloted but just act like their fine since they don't want to share their feeling with others, yet they comfort everyone else. Whenever an overblot happens or Yuu gets in trouble they would hold in their emotions until they get too Ramshackle then they'd have a crying session while holding Grim in their arms. The ghosts would also comfort them of course.

A lot of the characters (Leona, Rook, Lilia, etc.) would notice Yuu's behavior almost immediately and they would try their best to make sure Yuu avoids anything that might cause them to freak out. I doubt Leona would do this at first but then Yuu has a sincere talk with him after his overblot and Leona becomes secretly protective. Rook would just find Yuu intriguing because they're from another world and he would stalk observe Yuu for a bit before finding out about their behavior then he would become 100% more interested. Lilia would basically adopt Yuu to no one's surprise. He would give Yuu advice and help slowly fade Yuu's unhealthy habits overtime.

The teachers (Crewel, Trein, Vargas.) would be much more patient and understanding with Yuu if they fail a test or make a mess, for a few reasons. First, Yuu is a kid in a collage so it's stupid to expect them to get straight A's no matter how smart or mature they are. Second, the first time one of the teachers got mad or yelled at Yuu, they basically had a panic attack, completely shut down, and refused to talk to anyone for a few hours. Since then, the teachers realized something's up with this kid and decided to take a gentler approach. They also adopt Yuu.

I also like the idea that this Yuu played Twisted Wonderland in their world and was addicted to it. I feel like it would be funny for a little kid trying to act normal, like they don't know practically everything about everyone in NRC. And it would be easier for Yuu to relate and comfort everyone in the game if they know what they're going through.

Sorry about this little rant...I just felt like writing something on here so here we are. I might, maybe, probably, write some stuff with this kid Yuu. I should also name them instead of just kid Yuu or Yuu, right?

[doyelikehaggis]

25 Days of Sleighpairs: Paige Krasikeva x Violet (Teen Wolf) + “Chocolate”

Requested by @mariedemedicis

"I have a surprise for you."

Paige lit up as soon as she laid eyes on Violet, slipping into the empty music room and closing the door behind her. She kept her hand behind her back for dramatic effect.

"I like the sound of that."

Putting her cello aside, Paige raised her eyebrows and waited - impatiently - as Violet dropped into the seat beside her, their knees touching. Finally, she produced the gift, wrapped up in brown paper with a deep purple satin ribbon tied around it. Paige's favourite colour, of course.

"You know Christmas isn't for another week, right?" she teased, but she eagerly took the present.

"It's nothing big," Violet said quickly, watching her delicately untie the ribbon, making sure to keep it intact. The paper was a different story.

As soon as she got into them, Paige lit up like the Christmas tree that she always complained her family put up too early. Violet liked it; it was definitely better than her foster parents' attempts to "make her feel included" in their traditions. She forced the smile to stay on her face, but as soon as Paige started squealing in delight, it didn't take much effort.

"I love these," she said, already opening the box of chocolates. "They're my favourite kind."

"I know," Violet said softly.

Paige lifted her gaze to her, and her smile stretched. She leaned over and kissed her cheek, startling her. But Paige didn't seem to notice as she pulled back, saying, "This is the best gift ever. I'm totally going to eat these before Christmas, you know that?"

Violet laughed, trying to ignore the warm flush beneath her skin. Paige popped one in her mouth then insisted that she eat one, too. And she could never say no to her.

They stayed in the music room, messing around with the instruments. Paige didn't do a whole lot of proper practicing, but she didn't seem to mind Violet's distraction. As they were mid-laughter, there was a knock on the door and a head popped around it. A boy. His beaming smile fell a little when he saw them both sitting there.

Violet was about to ask if he wanted something, but Paige spoke first with a roll of her eyes. "Derek, what are you doing here?"

"I was just coming to see if you were in here," he said with a shrug, trying and failing to be totally smooth. "Wanted to say hi. And see you."

Violet's stomach turned. Violently. She glanced from him to Paige, trying to gauge her reaction - annoyance, right? She hated Derek Hale, they both did. He was loud and annoying and was always disrupting the class.

But Paige was smiling. "Well, now you have. So, you can go."

"Right. See you later."

He left, but Paige was still smiling. Violet coudn't muster one. Her heart was almost beating too fast to hear her as she said, "I forgot to tell you" and launched into a recollection of how he had talked to her and what they had said the other day. The chocolate aftertaste turned sour in her mouth as Paige's cheeks turned pink and her smile grew wider with every word.

Finally, when there was a pause, Violet asked, "Do you like him?"

"What?" Paige rolled her eyes again and scoffed. "No, definitely not. I mean, he's kind of cute. In an annoying way. But I don't like him."

She avoided looking at her. The bell went, perfectly in sync with Violet's heart as she watched Paige get up, suddenly worried about being late for their next class. She waited for her, holding the door open, but Violet knew, deep down, that she had already lost her.

[lightbulb-warning]

so has anyone figured out WHY there is the Need To Share our Artworks™ or is it just the vibes and our Soul apparently

[mono-socke]

Day 30: Deactivation

There. It's done. All prompts have been fulfilled! (if you count the crack post for day 8 as a proper entry)

thanks to @the-squiptionary for the prompt list!!

and also thanks to the two that were hyping me up on my day 29 post!! you're the best :>>

[archerstreet]

can someone tell me how to keep going if your hardwork does pay off but you don't feel anything when you achieve your goal just relief and numb again

[daipeanutsaiban]

A Victorian couple. (Leyendecker redraw)

[torchickentacos]

who needs encouraging fathers when you can get fortune cookies that tell you you're doing a good job and that it'll all be okay

[sainz100]

2024 Las Vegas GP ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ by Irwen Song

[immortalsins]

should i attend a risqué event

[un-pearable]

no offense but i think when critiquing jay’s (and let’s be real all of the OG four ninja’s) behavior in the pilots and early seasons, a lot of people ignore that the cultural context and attitude about misogyny and especially misogyny in children’s media is VERY different today than it was in the late 2000s/early 2010s

[garfieldsladybird]

lmao I just realized that out of every moot I’ve ever followed, I have to sometimes re-realize that “oh this is who that is” because they changed their username (Which isn’t a bad thing at all!!) or i forgot because i do.

I just then realized that well they would (maybe ofc) remember me because well im garfieldsladybird, I’ve never changed my username lmao like what? it was a really funny realization to me okie 😹🙏