#sometimes i just write and things happen

[zukkaoru]

for the drabble prompts: “I always thought the choice was mine / and I was right / but I just chose wrong” from the laurel hell lyric prompt list for any character(s) you want!!

i debated which character/s to write for this for a bit but ultimately i had to go with nikolai bsd because i think this line fits him very well. uhh sorry jupiter ik you don't know bsd but i have very bad brainrot. also this isn't edited bc i don't feel like it right now

(prompt requests are still open)

warnings: heavy religious imagery & symbolism, character death/dismemberment (#just fyolai things) word count: 602

.

Fyodor’s hands have always been cold. This was true when he was alive, when Nikolai grabbed hold of him and the only thing separating skin from skin was a pair of stolen gloves, thin enough to allow the iciness of Fyodor to seep through into Nikolai. And it is true now when all that remains of Fyodor is a severed arm, when Nikolai cradles the dismembered limb to his face and each finger is a lifeless icicle caressing his cheek.

This is what he wanted.

Congratulations, Dazai told him. Fyodor is dead. You did it. You killed the unkillable, you transformed yourself into Judas by choice. You brought the thirty pieces of silver to the men who wanted him dead, placed the proper tools in Dazai’s hands, and turned your back while he was crucified. You did it.

You proved your own free will.

You chose this.

Behind him, Dazai and Chuuya murmur to one another—about their friends back in Japan, about administering the antidote, about Dazai’s injuries, about Sigma. They talk about Sigma like Dazai is the only one who has ever cared about them. Like Nikolai didn’t save them from death, like Nikolai isn’t the only reason they were here and Dazai was able to use them in this game. Thirty pieces of silver. Thirty coin bombs never detonated.

Jesus was executed with two other men, one on either side, men who actually deserved the punishment they faced. To hang on a cross and slowly bleed out, nails through their hands, nails through their feet, their suffering on display for all to see.

Fukuchi is dead in Yokohama, if Dazai’s intel is to be believed. Sigma will never wake, if Fyodor’s words were true.

Which one of them begged for forgiveness in their final moments, and which died still rotting in their sins? Does it matter? They are gone and Nikolai is still breathing and this was his choice. This was his choice. This was his choice.

But Judas took his own life after betraying the one he loved.

Fyodor’s hand is cold. If he raises in three days’ time, Nikolai will be long gone. The Savior has the power to raise the dead, but why waste your time on someone who sold you out for thirty stray coins? Nikolai knows the stories; he grew up having them carved into his flesh each Sunday. He knows who lives, who is resurrected, who is redeemed. And he knows who turns traitor, then lets his grief and shame consume him, and is never mentioned again.

But Judas didn’t have a choice. Judas was merely a pawn in God’s perfect plan. Nikolai chose this.

Nikolai wanted to be free, so he took Fyodor’s life in his own hands and he made the choice and he has proven that no cage can hold him inside. No imitation of God can control his whims. He is free by no hand besides his own, but there is something inescapable forming in his chest that calls itself grief, and Nikolai is beginning to fear escaping one cage only leads you into another.

He always believed it was his choice, to bring about Fyodor’s death. He believed in his own free will, and he saw his plan through to its end. He was right—there is such thing as the existence of choice, because Fyodor is dead and his arm is clutched in Nikolai’s hands and no one sane would choose to kill the only person who ever understood them.

The choice was always Nikolai’s.

But now that the irreversible has come to pass, he fears he chose wrong.

[inkskinned]

we were sitting on the floor and i was cutting out tiny pictures to make a collage for a friend's birthday. you were on your phone and you laughed about something, and i was still in love with you then, so i asked what had you giggling.

"sorry. i was just..." you took a moment and went back to texting. "i was telling someone about how you're afraid of the dark."

i'm afraid of the dark because something bad happened. "oh." i felt a little slinky of shame crawl down my throat.

you glanced up, and maybe it showed on my face, because you rolled your eyes and held the phone to the side casually so i could see the group chat. "what? was it a secret?"

i looked down to the scissors in my hand. "i just..." no, it's not a secret. it just felt like something private, something serious. saying why would you tell someone that just feels like an accusation. it's unfair. i honestly am not even ashamed of it, it's just a fact about my person that i don't usually share.

what a strange experience. is this a human thing or a generational thing? for our grandparents: did they need to worry about how quickly someone can just... share your personal information? again, i didn't even really have a true objection. what could i say? i want any person in my life to feel they can be honest with their friends. it's not like i said don't tell anyone this.

i cut out another letter to complete the rainbow happy birthday, started hunting for the exclamation mark. i heard you sigh dramatically.

"don't make a big deal about this," you said.

this entire conversation was a pattern for us, and this was when we got to my least favorite part of the pattern. i would get my feelings hurt in some oblique not-technically-terrible way, and then it would be making a big deal about something. you'd get frustrated for me for being soft, but i was born soft. you knew i was soft when you pierced me. it's one of the things that made controlling me so easy.

"i'm not," i felt my voice crack. the question came without my wanting. "why are you guys talking about me?" and why are you saying that thing? why not like - i'm telling them how you're generous and kind and pretty.

you let out this low, tragic groan. "oh my god." you tossed the phone away from your body. "there, see? i just won't talk to them if you don't like it."

the rest of the hour went the way it always went, between us: i said i don't actually mind if you talk to your friends but -, you found a way to call my minor expression of discomfort "being dramatic." you got upset that i had been offended. i ended up apologizing, even though i hadn't actually done anything.

afterwards, you picked up the phone again. after texting for a little bit, you snorted. "okay," you said, "but it is kind of funny you're afraid of the dark. i mean, when you think about it."

[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.)

[sergle]

I'm thinking abt that pretty fall leaves embroidery pattern post and about how like... it is categorically a repost, it's a reupload. right? a thing that is generally disliked. but because it's credited, it's genuinely boosting the artist in question. and it could ALWAYS be like this. reposting content could ALWAYS be a symbiotic relationship, but because sourcing back to the original creator of something is so uncommon, it's just easier to ask people not to repost it at all. and people still don't understand the difference. or they'll go to the effort of cropping out usernames/signatures to repost something, which is More Effort than literally crediting the creator of something you liked enough to want to repost. Like. I literally don't actually care if my own shit gets reposted, you have to understand. I just don't want it STOLEN. But "do not repost" is easier to write on my art than "you can repost this, but don't alter the image/remove my signature, don't you dare write 'credit goes to the artist' because that is not credit, please link back to my original post or someplace that you can actually find me. please use an actual link/url instead of writing a non-clickable link of my username, because making it text instead of a clickable link cuts the number of people who will go to the effort of visiting my own page in Half." All those aggregate themed accounts, those fuckin annoying as hell instagrams and facebook groups that are like "body positive art we love wamen 💕 hashtag feminism" and then MASS-STEAL plus sized art created by women, if pages like these that always go and steal my older self-portraits and other works... If they just put a link to my prints of those pieces in the text of those posts, or, fuck, my commission info page? I would literally be living on the moon right now. I would have a house on the moon

[recycledraccoon]

I have evolved into Scuttlespring anon, just say anything about them. I love them so much

THE ANON PANTHEON GROWS

Ok so. Gorgug likes Mary Ann because she absolutely infuriates him but also, and perhaps more importantly, because she has a type of confidence I think a younger Gorgug would have deeply envied. She's so weird, but entirely sure of herself. She likes what she likes and anyone who would have a problem with that is absolutely beneath her notice. She has friends not despite her oddities, but because she refuses to bend about them and that confidence is incredibly attractive in a person. Mary Ann Skuttle see's something she wants and she just...goes and gets it, easy peasy. Tiny little kobald strides, but when she puts her foot down with force, Gorgug thinks she could crush a mountain under with nothing so much as a blink or falter of her stride. She's certainly physically strong enough for it, and while Gorgug is undisputedly the better fighter, Mary Ann has a physical strength hidden under soft pastel pink hoodies and can, has, and will knock Gorgug on his ass. Gorgug got THRASHED at those Bloodrush field tryouts, and I'm certain he probably got his ass handed to him more than once during the year while at practice but before he quit the team. She made him so damn mad, everything that year was, and endlessly kind Gorgug got real mean to her over it. She was better than him, more casually confident, and didn't blink ONCE at his outburst. And later? When she was resurrected and freed from possession? He talks to her, acknowledges that it was just a game but he had been actually mad to be so easily knocked aside. He never really had to work at Bloodrush to be good at it, he just was, until suddenly she proved herself better.

And yet, without flinching, Mary Ann, famous for not giving a shit but listening to Gorgug say how much he had, just....asks if he has a girlfriend. Unparalleled confidence, shooting a shot he was unprepared for. Planets aligned even as his own orbit was knocked off course. And then, when he admits he doesn't even know where to get a quokki pet, something its been explicitly known to be something she really cares about? She writes down her number, letting him see that folded paper. She initiated this, and he got swept up in it, but instead of just handing over the number and allowing him to be swept up- Mary Ann Skuttle puts the number away and tells him shes gonna put it where you get quokki pets, and if he wants her number he's going to have to go get it. He's not allowed to just be swept up in the force of her, she wants him to put in effort, prove to her and himself that this isn't just a moment but a starting point. He cant be swept up by the tide, he's gotta swim. Gorgug liked Zelda, but their relationship started because they thought she was in danger and Gorgug had the best in. He stumbled into that relationship unsure and off balance, he never would have had the confidence to pursue Zelda without his friends hands on his back and their advice in his ears. Later on he gets more serious, he did love her and he put in the work to maintain that relationship, but it didn't work out and that's ok. Ever confident Mary Ann tho? She doesn't want unsure stumbling steps into this relationship. If Gorgug doesn't make the active decision to chase her, to WANT to be with her and putting deliberate effort to get there, then she doesn't want him at all. Gorgug, confused, asking where you even GET a quokki pet? And she smirks, calls him a loser, and walks away leaving him reeling and dumbfounded. Mary Ann Skuttle wants Gorgug to work for this. And who is Gorgug Thistlespring, but someone who puts in the work for things he wants? He did the seemingly impossible by creating his own subclass of Barbaficer, even if he had to take four years of schooling all at once. He puts in the work and makes the impossible possible, the greatest wizard of this age. So yeah. Yeah. Gorgug Thistlespring likes Mary Ann Skuttle because she makes him work for it.

[unmotivatedwrit3r]

why do we go back?

damian wayne x reader

warnings: anxiety, kind of a panic attack?, implied past trauma/abuse

wc: 800

~~

“I went back.”

“Why? They—”

“I don’t know. I don’t know why. I—” 

“Damian, honey, breathe.” 

-

Damian’s brothers don’t text you that often. You don’t have their numbers saved in your phone. Or you didn’t. You have Tim’s now. 

come to the manor now. non-medical emergency 

oh and this is tim by the way 

You don’t even see the text until you’re done with your meeting, phone on do not disturb and notes document in fullscreen mode. It was sent at 1:30 in the afternoon. Bad things aren’t supposed to happen at 1:30 in the afternoon. 

I’m on my way, you text back at 3:00. Is he okay? The response comes as you’re setting up your gps. no. then, i mean he’s fine but no. You pull out of your parking spot a little faster than you should have. 

Once you get on the highway, you turn off the GPS. The number 21 exit towards Bristol and Wayne manor is nearly as familiar as your own. You’re thankful for the dozens of trips you’ve made because Tim calls you five minutes in. 

“What happened?” You can feel your heart pounding in your chest. The anxiety that had taken root when you saw the first text is morphing quickly into fear. 

“He disappeared.” 

“What?” 

“He’s not on manor grounds anymore. But he’s not in his suit.” 

On top of the phone call screen, a push notification lets you know that Damian's code was used to disarm your alarm system. You let out a short breath and switch lanes. Your exit is the next one. 

“I know where he is,” you tell Tim as you shift over into the right lane. It’s a little backed up, the way it always is this time of day, “I got him.”

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” 

You take exit 24 towards the lower east side, then switch to an even more local highway and take exit 8 towards the residential district. When you pull into your parking spot in the cul-de-sac, your house looks empty. When you walk inside, Damian’s combat boots are sitting by the door, not unlaced all the way. One of them is sitting on its side. The other is askew. You let your bag slide off your shoulder to hit the ground next to your own shoes and venture further in. 

Damian’s sitting on the steps in dark casual clothes and white socks with a paint blob pattern. His knees are bent, legs pressed against his chest. Your steps aren’t steep and Damian is very tall. Hands clenched into fists rest on top of his knees. His neck is bent too, forehead pressed against his fists. 

You slide back on the wooden steps when you sit down. Damian doesn’t so much as twitch. You wait for him to come to you. He does. 

“I went back.” His voice is rough but not thick with tears. 

“Why?” You ask. The League leaves him with deep hurts every time he goes back to Nanda Parbat. And not the physical kind. “They—”

“I don’t know!” He exclaims like the words burst out of his chest. The energy propels him up, fingers digging into the arms of his sweatshirt as he rocks on his heels. “I don’t know why. I—” 

“Damian, honey,” You stand to meet him. The emotions in his green eyes are wild, untethered. “Breathe.” He shakes his head at you, fingers curling harder into his sleeves. “You can.” Damian scans your body language and you let him, relaxing the tension in your shoulders and leaving your hands open, arms angled to hold him if he wants it. 

“I’m here,” you say to the hesitation in his eyes. “You’re safe.”

You let out a grunt of air as Damian slams into you. His arms wrap around you tight enough that you think he’s afraid you’ll turn into smoke if he lets go. You raise your arms more slowly, one coming up to rub at his back and the other to cup the back of his neck.His knees buckle. You slow your descent to the ground only barely, saving your knees from catching the brunt of your weight. Your butt stings instead from how hard it hit the floor but it’s worth it when Damian buries his face into the junction between your neck and your collarbone and breathes. They’re choppy loud breaths that come with shoulders shuddering under the hand you have rubbing up and down his back, but no tears hit your neck. 

“I’ve got you,” you whisper to him, cheek pressed against the top of his head. “You’re safe here.” Damian’s arms only tighten further. In response, you hold him tighter too. 

Why do we go back, you wonder, when we know the only thing to come of it is more pain? 

[pa-pa-plasma]

hey i feel like we're really sleeping on that time Danny possessed Vlad & framed him for assaulting a minor

Editing with the clip because people don't believe me. Episode is 41: Eye for an Eye.

[silusvesuius]

steer clear of ....the illigitimate child of... nvm

[b-o-e]

alone with you, take two

Wally Darling x Reader

Warnings: jealous wally, frustrating neighbours, mwah mwah kissy smooches!!

although it is not necessary, I highly suggest reading my fics in their recommended order for the best experience! here is the link to all my silly lil wally fics in order. this is #11 :)

Jealousy isn’t a frequent feeling for Wally, but sometimes, things get on his nerves.

“Hun, would you mind helping me with these treats please?”

Your attention was drawn away from Wally, once again. 

It was a Friday night, and the neighbourhood was gathered for their weekly get together, of course. Lots of eating, game playing, and mingling going on.

You left Wally’s side, assuring him you would be right back, off to assist Poppy with whatever it was she needed.

Wally blew out an irritated huff.

And this get together seemed to mean he barely got to steal any of you for himself.

Everyone was taking you left and right. ‘Hey, come play a game with us!’ ‘Would you help me set these up?’ ‘Come take a look at this!’ No matter what, it was one thing or another, back to back to back.

Now, despite having quite a way with words, Wally still didn’t know how to use them, at times.

Occasionally, he didn’t know how to ask for things, particularly when it comes to a new challenge he's unsure of how to approach. He just… didn’t. So, what would he do instead?

He would stare.

And he would stare.

And he would stare.

He would stare, until the other person picked up on his silent plea for assistance. Or, until it will have been long enough where he figures it out himself.

This was the predicament you were in now. Although, unfortunately for Wally, you were still yet to notice you were in any sort of predicament at all.

He wasn’t sure how long it had been. He almost couldn’t complain, because it provided an extra good excuse to look at you. At the same time, he was getting frustrated, because how haven’t you realized yet? 

Well, actually, maybe you had. But, whenever it seemed like you were going to inquire, someone stole your attention away, which would irk Wally just a little bit more.

It’s happened multiple times now. By just about everyone. Twice, by most! Were they doing it on purpose, at this point? Wally was beginning to question.

For now, Wally watched and waited. And watched and waited. And watched and waited. Until finally, you were finished helping Poppy and on your way back over to him. So, he seized his opportunity.

“Would you—” he began, only to be cut off.

“Hey pipsqueak! Come play a quick round with Eddie n I!” 

If looks could kill, Barnaby would’ve been dead where he stood.

“Deal me in, too!” Howdy raised a hand, making his way over to the table, stretching his other arms and cracking his knuckles with confidence.

“Do you get one or two hands, with two sets of arms?”

“Actually,” you glanced at Wally, looking over at the group again. “Give him two! He can play for me, I’ll hop in later,” 

“Which hand do you wanna be, kiddo?”

“Uh… top? Cause I’m on top, y’know?”

Howdy sniggered.

“Okay, I’ll give you the bottom hand.”

“Jeez. Ask me for my fancy, just to ignore it,” you clicked your tongue in amusement, looking at Wally. He gazed back at you, eyes hopeful. Was he finally getting your attention? All to himself? “What did you want to say, sorry?”

Wally sighed with relief. Finally!

“Would you li–”

“Starlight! Won’t you come join Julie and I’s game?” Sally called out to you.

Nope.

Wally had it.

As you opened your mouth to reply, Wally took you by the hand, answering for you.

“Later.”

His tone was sharp and curt as he stormed toward the door, leading you behind him.

No more distractions.

Wally pulled you along, pausing briefly at the exit and looking at you, ensuring you were fine with this. Your eyes met his, and although surprised and confused, you understood the silent question and gave him a nod to go on.

The two of you stepped outside, walking briskly into the cool night. A sigh of relief left Wally, glad to finally be away from his beloved although slightly infuriating neighbours. When he decided the two of you had wandered far enough, he slowed his pace, sucking in a breath of the refreshing air. He looked at you to apologize for being so brash, only to pause.

You were staring at him, a grin growing on your face.

“Is this what I think it is?” you questioned him. His brows furrowed in puzzlement.

“Were you getting jealous in there, Wally?”

He gaped at the accusation. Jealous? Him? He opened his mouth to shut it down, only to hesitate.

Was he jealous?

His cheeks heated as realization hit him. He gaped like a fish, trying to think of a reasonable defense for himself, to no avail.

“... they were doing it on purpose,” he could only claim, deflating. 

“They were being quite rude, weren’t they?” you empathized with a giggle. “I’m sorry,”

“It’s not your fault,” he shook his head, sure of that much. “But they kept pulling you away, this way and that way. I think that I was deserving of a turn,”

“Well, no matter, now we are alone,” you smiled. “No more interruptions. What would you like, Wally?” you asked him.

He blanked.

Right.

The reason he wanted your attention in the first place.

Wally’s head dipped down shyly, his fingers gently toying with your own.

How does he say it?

He returned his gaze back to your eyes. You were waiting patiently for him to speak. No rush at all. You never did.

“I wanted to step outside with you,” he said, speaking slow as he took the time to figure out his words.

“I wanted to spend some time away, just you and I,” he continued. “Everyone was demanding your attention, but I wanted some for myself. That sounds quite selfish now that I say it out loud, doesn’t it?” He mumbled.

“I don’t think you’re being selfish at all,” you begged to differ. “I think that you have a right to desire some extra attention from me. We are together, after all. And, that being said, you are my top priority,” 

“As you are mine,” Wally nodded, giving your hand a squeeze.

“So, you just wanted to spend some time together?” You hummed softly, smiling at him. “I always quite like that idea,”

“Well, not quite…” he trailed along sheepishly, looking down at your interlocked hands.

“What would that be, Darling?”

“I wanted to kiss you,” he admitted.

“To kiss me?”

He nodded.

“Well, why don’t you, then?”

He peeked up at you.

“... might I?”

“Of course,” you giggled. 

“… now I’m nervous,” he uttered bashfully, gazing downward as he shyly rubbed the back of his neck. You grinned in amusement, leaning closer to him.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” You whispered, placing your finger under his chin to redirect his attention to you. His eyes widened slightly in surprise, gazing into yours as he licked his dry lips.

“Please?” He murmured out. 

With a smile, you tilted his chin up a bit more, closing the gap between you and pressing your lips to his in a sweet, short kiss. He went a little rigid before he relaxed into it, though he didn’t have quite enough time to reciprocate before you moved to break the kiss. 

As you began to pull away, his hand found the side of your neck, not ready for you to leave just yet. He led you back in before you went too far, his lips met yours once again, bringing you in for another kiss, slow and loving.

Moments later, Wally pulled away, more content this time. He gazed at you, any hint of his prior frustration nowhere to be seen anymore, nothing but a look of fondness left remaining in his eyes. He studied you, from your flushed cheeks to your small smile, meeting your equally love filled eyes.

“Are you satisfied now?” You asked with a light teasing tone, rubbing at your warm cheek as if it would make your embarrassed blush fade away. Wally clicked his tongue, glancing towards the noisy home down the way.

“Mmm, I’m not sure…” he hummed with a playful tone, looking back at you with a glint in his eyes.  “I think that I deserve you for some time more. How does another kiss sound to you? Then, maybe I’ll be satisfied,”

hi! hello! did i scare you? i'm back from the dead to offer you this! i hope that you enjoyed! burnout is real, bahaha! if you are new, i have some other fics along these lines you can read as well!

here is a link to my silly lil wally fics in their recommended order if you would like :) these can also be found on my ao3 B) I also have a ko-fi if you'd like to support me!

also!!! ART!!! people made art based on my fics!!! MIND BLOWING!!! check them out, super duper cool!

@leon-dechino created this one and this one! SO cool, mind boggling, makes me so happy gavhxsah

@sunkyss created this one! AHHH! so wild man, i still can't believe it bahaha! i highly suggest you check both of them out! they have so many cool works on top of these!

alas! 'tis all for now! i hope to see you soon! MWAH! until next time <3

Posted Wednesday, June 7, 2023 at 2:07 PM

[tennessoui]

it’s like baby gorl there’s no way I, the author who wrote the fic you’re commenting on and who is the intended audience for this comment, am gonna agree with you 😿🙏 some things can just stay on your chest 🙏

[butterflysonnets]

yes i'm rooting for m*leven breakup because byler is neat but mostly? i'm rooting for m*leven breakup for the sake of el and mike.

to me, their romance was always a puppy love born out of a combination of social pressures, naïve curiosity, and a lack of true understanding regarding intimacy and romantic love and what it really is. it was real in that they do truly, deeply care about each other and they are close friends, maybe even shared an attraction, but a maturing romance is so much more than that. they've grown up and out of being boyfriend/girlfriend, and that's okay! i think television/film needs to show more often that most of us don't have definite "soulmates" or first childhood loves that we spend our whole lives with. it doesn't mean these relationships meant nothing and didn't impact us, it just means they've run their course and that something else is in the cards, and this is part of life!

i've always felt el was at her best and most confident self when broken up with mike, discovering who she was and what she liked alongside another girl her age instead of just relying on mike for mentorship on how to live in the real world. she deserves more of an opportunity to find herself, her autonomy, and her independence, and to love who she is, and she's made it clear she's felt insecure in the relationship with mike because she isn't being loved and understood the way she wants, needs, and deserves from someone who is her partner.

also, it's okay if mike doesn't love her in "the way he should". he is not obligated to love her romantically and stay in a relationship with her just because she's a girl, because she "needed someone", or because he cares about her a lot. he shouldn't be pressured into a romance if it's not truly coming from his heart. he deserves freedom to find out and honour who he is, too, instead of just staying in his non-functional first relationship — one he got into as a child, essentially — and defining himself that way because it's what's expected when a boy and a girl are close. he loves her in some way, yes, but it's okay if he doesn't feel comfortable or secure being her boyfriend anymore, for whatever reason that is. he's felt insecure too, and that's valid and it matters.

they are their own people and are steadily growing and changing every day. they need time to figure out who those people are, and it's become clear (at least in my opinion) that those people aren't meant to be a couple at this stage.

they deserve freedom. they deserve to grow up and be authentic to themselves and not feel like they need to lie for the sake of a relationship. they deserve to move on from this version of their relationship that isn't making them happy and rekindle the best part of their bond: their strong, beautiful friendship. they don't have to be a couple if it doesn't make them stronger and better and happier people.

i think it would be healthy and wonderful for a show, especially one consumed frequently by young adults, to show a relationship starting, progressing, and ending on good terms in this way. sometimes things don't work out, and that is okay.

[capybonara]

Listen to me. Listen.

Im always for ideas and spitballing. Where someone says stuff like "what if our characters did x together? haha :)"

but you need to know if you approach me with what-ifs. Im going to ask questions because that means I like those ideas. I must know more.

It's not because Im questioning your decisions.

Because for me, the more details I have, the better I can picture a scene. Drawing/writing things makes these scenarios "canon" to me. I want to include friends in my character stories. Its a "help me help you" kinda thing

We had a "rule" on CDN about spitballing, to encourage players to take action with their ideas. "If it doesn't happen on the forums, then it doesn't happen."

[himbohimhoe]

Holding out hope that the writing in veilguard will get more bearable but rook saying to lucanis that it's "not nice that Spite hurt him" and he "shouldn't accept that it’s fine bc it wouldn't be ok if a person did that" like. That is a demon. Built off a single emotion called SPITE. Rook I am finding it really hard to believe that u have lived in thedas for more than 30 seconds.

[pistachi0art]

More Ben fam stuff I believe I have neglected to put here

[the-illustrative-interloper]

Jonathan Harker’s Journal - May 28th

[the-stove-is-divorced]

Remembering I can draw fanart for my own fics, SO BEHOLD! The most mentally sound halves of a fusion imaginable! Technically a redraw of art I did way earlier for the same fic! Flexing my art muscles and thinking about these two is good for the soul. Love them. Bastards to write though. I can't wait to write them fused back together, but we're not here yet and it's AGONY.