#story idea that i will never write

[shywhumpauthor]

A Whumper with fire powers branding their Whumpee not just with their name or initials, but their handprints.

Two palms scarred against either side of Whumpee’s neck, fingers wrapping around their throat in a collar that can never be removed. Hands on their sides, just below their broken ribs, a touch that will never relent. Fingers wrapped around their wrists in shackles that won’t be unlocked. A handprint against their face, cupping their cheek that had already suffered so many punches. The small of their back. A single hand just between their shoulder blades. Dragging down their thighs.

Just. Branded handprints.

[sukirichi]

dusk till dawn drabble : thinking about a future where kiyoomi marries you and rintaro is married to iris, but rintaro still has feelings for you. and how kiyoomi is the definition of cocky knowing he was the one you chose in the end

note: this is for the team kiyoomi peeps !! but please know that this is not alluding that he is endgame, this is not a spoiler at all 😭 this is just a soft lil something for our prince 💓 (slightly suggestive, light angst for rintaro)

“omi...” treading to where your husband is, you sit yourself on his lap. his face is obscured by the newspaper he’s reading, but he hums in acknowledgement, unbothered as you gently push the paper down with your finger. you smile the moment you’re greeted by his handsome face, still in awe after years of marriage that he was yours now.

“hi, there.”

“hello,” he smiles, soft and tender. folding the newspaper and tucking it at his side, he drags you closer to him, his large hands drawing circles at your hip. “what does my lovely wife need today?”

“you make it sound like i’m only being sweet to get something out of you,” you playfully swat at his chest, “can’t i just come over because i wanted your attention?”

the chuckle that erupts from him is free, unbothered ― as he has been ever since you’d settled down with him and left the past behind. “you always have my attention, darling, but you only ever call me ‘omi’ when you want something else. so tell me, and i shall give it to you.”

your heart flutters at his words, but that same wave of giddiness dies down as you scrunch your nose. “well, you see. . . rintaro’s coming over with the kids later. they said they wanted to play with the horses again.”

you expect your husband to complain, or to refuse your request to welcome them. he isn’t oblivious to your ex-husband’s longing glances at you, or how he takes every opportunity to strike up a conversation on how ‘back in the day . . .’

rintaro’s lingering feelings never dissipated within the years, and you doubted it would anytime now. he had a bad of habit remaining in love with the people he couldn’t have when he was already with someone else.

much to your surprise, kiyoomi only leans back and nods, once. “okay. i’ll let the cook know to prepare dinner for all of us.”

okay . . . that’s it? it was that easy?

“you’re not worried?“ you pout at him, “or jealous?”

kiyoomi snorts, offended by the implications. “why would i be? i am the one you fell for, the one you married, and last time i remember ― if my memory does not fail me, of course ― it was my name you were screaming last night loud enough for the staff to hear―”

you slap a palm against his mouth, feeling his grin and laughter vibrate under your skin. “fine, i get it, you’ve made your point!” removing your hand, kiyoomi tenderly circles a hand around your wrist. your frown deepens, though its lighthearted and unserious. “you’ve been really cocky since i confessed to you. i liked you better when you were still shy around me.”

“forgive me, darling,” your husband grins, effortlessly tugging you to him until you’re stumbling right into his firm chest. “i couldn’t be humble when the woman i’ve pined over for years finally said she loved me, too. but i’ll be more subtle about it,” he amends with a thumb caressing your lower lip, his dark eyes already hazy with want. “your wish is my command, afer all.”

[wiltenjoyer]

🎈 New Year's Eve at Foster's 🎉

(full comic under the cut)

[valeriianz]

Hiii @embroiderling here. For the way you said I love you, can I ask for 31? Or 27. Or 25 😂 all the options are so good 💖

Thank youuuu

Helloooo! So nice to see you after so long! haha 31: In awe, the first time you realised it also, reincarnation au :D

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

“I love you.”

The stranger looks twice at Hob, a beautiful expression of bafflement making his eyes pop.

Hob blinks, the words coming back to him.

“Sorry,” Hob laughs, breathless. He feels a flush growing up his neck. “That just– came out of me. I don’t– here–” Hob scrambles to get his feet flat on the ground and heft himself up halfway, extending a hand to the man he’d crashed into… who looks achingly familiar.

The man, who Hob takes in properly now, hesitantly takes Hob’s hand, allowing himself to be pulled up from the ground, standing now on unsteady legs. They carefully walk out of the bike lane and onto the slightly congested sidewalk. Hob realizes he doesn’t have his scooter until his hand shoots out to catch the thin, gorgeous man, by the elbow as he wobbles a bit.

“Careful.” Hob offers a smile but it feels broken. “You okay?”

The man looks up from the point where they are touching, back to Hob, absolute shock and something like recognition glinting in his eyes.

Hob’s breath catches when he sees that the man is crying. Beautiful blue eyes shine and overflow down pale skin and strikingly sharp cheekbones.

“What’s wrong?” Hob’s grip tightens slightly on the man’s arm while the other hovers between them.

“I don’t know…” The man finally speaks with a voice that sounds like heaven. His fingers shake as he wipes away the tears on his face. “I just feel like…”

His low vibrato cracks as he looks back at Hob.

“Feels like I’ve been waiting an eternity to hear you say that.”

Hob’s jaw drops and his heart soars.

“What’s your name?”

“Dream.”

Hob huffs out a disbelieving laugh.

“It’s– It’s so crazy. I knew that.” Hob laughs properly now at the smile that tugs up the corner of Dream’s lips. “Do you know me? What’s my name?”

Dream’s brows pinch together as he seems to study Hob.

“... Hob.”

The smile that cracks through Dream’s composure is enough to send pin pricks up Hob’s spine, tickling the back of his neck, not to mention how incredibly strange and yet familiar this all seems. Like he’d looked at those crystal blue eyes a hundred times, in a hundred different lifetimes, a hundred different emotions reflected in them.

Then Dream laughs. A bark of laughter that he immediately covers with his hand and finally, for the first time since Hob spoke to him, looking away, the tips of his ears turning pink.

“What’s so funny?” Hob’s smiling so wide he feels his eyes squint.

“I don’t know!” Dream nearly screeches, his visage morphing through something like the five stages of grief before smiling again.

“But…” Dream manages to get himself under control, looking around at the people walking past them, the buildings towering over them, and back to Hob. “It’s a very strange name.”

It feels like an excuse, or some explanation that at least makes sense.

“I love your laugh,” Hob blurts out, feeling more present, all the sudden.

Dream sighs, his body relaxing, like he’s committed to whatever is happening… acquiescing to it. 

“I know you do.”

Hob grins. This is insane.

“Can I take you to dinner?”

Dream’s breath seems to catch, his eyes flicking up and down.

“I feel like you owe me a lot more than dinner.”

Hob laughs again, emotion welling on inside his throat and making his own eyes begin to burn.

“I’m going to make it up to you. God. What is happening right now?”

Dream merely shakes his head, running a hand through his hair and looking around them.

“Are you free tonight? Eight o’clock?”

Hob nods, excitement– like a child, rushes through his veins.

“Let’s meet here,” Dream points to the ground. “... again, if you’re serious.”

Hob nods again. “I’ll be here.”

“Good,” Dream takes a long breath, his eyes seem to burn, instantly watching Hob. “I will see you again.”

An unconscious grin splits across Hob’s face.

“You will.”

[lizardbrainlabs]

sketched out all the human partners!!!

[bonefall]

This AU is basically the Dungeon Meshi of Warrior Cats. This is a high compliment.

It's so funny, I get that a lot and I totally see it + appreciate it, but BB actually predates me being a fan of Dungeon Meshi! I've been getting that compliment since even before the anime dropped.

It makes perfect sense though. Dungeon Meshi uses food as a metaphor for communication across individuals, class, and most relevantly culture. It's something that brings people together, even when that's being addressed as a sinister thing when.......

Ah. No spoilers. You should go and read the manga to find out what I'm teasing ;)

I do something with a lot of overlap in BB. Food is an extension of the culture of the five Clans. I use it to characterize individuals too and as a metaphor for things at times (like Darkstripe's growth or cultural friction in Heartstar's Rise), but most of all, I try to emphasize the food as the product of the society that makes it. The biome, the diet, the behaviors of its chefs... so Dungeon Meshi and BB are naturally going to draw some interesting similarities.

Plus, Dungeon Meshi's a good ass series man, it's downright awe-inspiring. I hope I can make a narrative as satisfying as Ryoko Kui can, lmao. I love how much that girlie loves food

[njsecretchild]

shouta and hizashi aizawa-yamada are happily married for 20 years and are raising a son for another 17 years. their izuku is a kind and smart kid, who wears his heart on his sleeve and trusts his parents with everything!

but wait... where did those prada loafers come from? is this bag fendi? where did he get a chanel blazer? how did he manage to save up enough to buy the newest iphone with his allowance?

or: shouta and hizashi start finding designer clothes in their son's wardrobe and confront him about it. what they don't expect is a literal sugar daddy

[starry-bi-sky]

okay so i was thinking of a joke earlier about how in DPDC Amity Park's slogan "a great place to live" is not only city propaganda but also the city lording it over the rest of America for being normal. But then I remembered that, despite how many DCU Cities with heroes in it there are, the amount of cities in America without heroes still far outnumber the amount of cities in America WITH heroes.

So I did a little digging so the joke would still land. Something most heroes have in common is that they operate in major cities. What makes a major city? I found that the general consensus is that the population is roughly over or around a million. THEN I looked up the populations of cities in the DCU that I thought of off the top of my head. So Gotham, Metropolis, Starling City, Central City, Jump City. All of them ranked up to millions in population (most of them were in the tens of millions).

Amity Park's wikipedia describes it as being similar to specifically Philadelphia, Chicago, and San Francisco.

Philadelphia's Population: 1.576 million as of 2021 Chicago's Population: 2.697 million as of 2021 San Francisco: 815,201 as of 2021

Whiiich means that Amity Park if we take that from canon, is probably a major city. There are approximately 19,000 cities in America with probably less than a hundred that are major cities. Adding the DCU major cities wouldn't skew the data too much.

Which MEANS that I can make the joke that Amity Park's "great place to live" is not only just typical city propaganda, but also its Amity Park lording it over the other major cities for being one of the only major cities that doesn't have problems bad enough to warrant a superhero or a vigilante. Cue stage left the Fentons and Phantom :)

Amity Parkers were probably SO proud that they didn't need a superhero. They didn't have to worry about things like 'world ending threats' and 'super-powered individuals' and 'staggering property damage'. And then enter Fentons.

It also could be used as an excuse for why nobody took notice to Amity Park getting ghosts if folks like me aren't huge fans of the notion of a media blackout via Tucker, Technus, or the US Government. Or if you want to keep Amity Park as its urban city self. Amity Park's news on ghosts gets drowned out in a week because there's news on more popular, well-known cities going on every other day. The shit going on in Amity Park is every other major city's regular Tuesday and it gets filtered as such.

[fictionadventurer]

I'm fascinated by the ways in which the things a creator is good at making don't necessarily line up with the kind of art that they respect or even enjoy.

This has haunted me ever since I saw a Youtube video about the downfall of The Band Perry, a country band that I had liked until their music got weird and they kind of fell off the face of the earth. Well, it turns out that they tried to reinvent their image and their style of music several times before the band finally fell apart. When they started, they had this weird Southern Gothic homeschooler style that really worked for them and was reasonably popular, but then they tried to switch to a cooler type of pop music--a style they supposedly admired and enjoyed--and it just did not work at all. They failed because they chased what they wanted to make instead of sticking with the style that they were good at.

It's a tension that's present in all creative work. At one point does "going outside the box" go too far? Can one be happy making good work even if it's not the kind of stuff they like or admire? Are the techniques and styles that are most appealing to us appealing because they're things that we can't create ourselves? As in, our minds don't work that way, so seeing these things from other creators is exciting, but the fact that our minds don't work that way is exactly why we can't imitate those things. Where's the line between creative integrity--pushing yourself to make better things--and pride--wanting to make something more prestigious and impressive instead of humbly making the type of art you're best suited to make? Can one even clearly see what they're best at making, and appreciate the good that's there rather than chasing after styles and techniques that seem better? There are no solid answers, which is why I'm going to be endlessly thinking about this.

[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-

[salemisdying]

me when i come up with ideas and then realize that im really bad at writing

[lord-squiggletits]

One of my favorite parts of phase 2 (and indeed one of the few moments I resonated with IDW Prowl) was when the neutrals were coming back to Cybertron and Prowl said that he refused to let Autobots be pushed aside and overruled after they were the ones who fought for freedom for 4 million years (the exact wording escapes me atm).

And I mean, that resentment still holds true even once the colonists come on bc like. As much as it's true that Cybertron's culture is fucked up, and as funny as it can be to paint Cybertronians as a bunch of weirdos who consider trying to kill someone as a common greeting not important enough to hold a grudge over.... The colonists POV kind of pissed me off a lot of times, as did the narrative tone/implications that Cybertronians are forever warlike and doomed to die by their own hands bc it just strikes me as an extremely judgemental and unsympathetic way to deal with a huge group of people with massive war PTSD and political/social tensions that were rampant even before the war?

Like, imagine living in a society rife with bigotry and discrimination where you get locked into certain occupations and social strata based on how you were born. The political tension is so bad there's a string of assassinations of politicians and leaders. The whole planet erupts into an outright war that leads (even unintentionally) to famine and chemical/biological warfare that destroys your planet. Both sides of the war are so entrenched in their pre-war sides and resentment for each other that this war lasts 4 million years and you don't even have a home planet any more. Then your home planet gets restored and a bunch of sheltered fucks come home and go "ewww why are you so violent?? You're a bunch of freaks just go live in the wilderness so that our home can belong to The Pure People Who Weren't Stupid And Evil Enough To Be Trapped In War" and then a bunch of colonists from places that know nothing about your history go "lol you people are so weird?? 🤣🤣 I don't get why y'all are fighting can't you just like, stop??? Oh okay you people are just fucked up and evil and stupid then" ((their planets are based on colonialism where their Primes wiped out the native populations btw whereas the Autobots and OP in particular fought to save organics. But that never gets brought up as a point in their favor)) as if the damage of a lifetime of war and a society that was broken even before the war can just magically go away now that the war is over.

Prowl fucking sucks but he was basically the only person that pointed out the injustice of that.

And then from then on out most of the characters from other colonies like Caminus and wherever else are going "i fucking hate you and your conflicts" w/ people like literal-nobody Slide and various Camiens getting to just sit there lecturing Optimus about how Cybertronians are too violent for their own good and how their conflicts are stupid, with only brief sympathetic moments where the Cybertronians get to be recognized as their own ppl who deserve sympathy before going right back to being lambasted.

Like I literally struggled to enjoy the story at multiple points because there was only so much I could take of the characters I knew and loved being raked over coals constantly while barely getting to defend themselves or be defended by the narrative so like. It was just fucking depressing and a little infuriating to read exRID/OP

[averlym]

fairest of the fair

[gemgdynamight0]

hc for Katsuki's sidekicks:

two sidekicks who are UA 3rd years/just graduated and they're both girls and very competitive rivals who are very serious in their job and they both grew up admiring Katsuki's skills, passion and spirit when he's fighting so they want to surpass him (that's why he accepted them). But they don't really like each other and get annoying sometimes because they fight and argue a lotttt, like imagine they're in a mission and are arguing through the comms and Katsuki is so annoyed and face palming telling them to "FOCUS IDIOTS" but he secretly smiles because it reminds him of his rivalry with deku when they were young.

They also spent their 1st and 2nd year internships with Katsuki and he trained them soooo hard because he sees boys and girls equally and also saw so much potential in those two. that made them so happy (I'm assuming their society is still misogynist like it was during the sport festival)

[dreamingofthewild]

Today's random headcanon is Gale becoming undeniably turned on by Tav's perfume, cologne, or beard oil.

Just imagine the distraction Tav could cause him. The rich, intoxicating scent drives him to distraction when his lover leans in for a kiss. His thoughts scatter as the scent overwhelms his senses, and he has to summon all his willpower not to ravage them on the spot.

Gale taking the time to breathe Tav in as he slowly kisses their face and strokes their hair. His eyes roll into the back of his head as that sweet, delicious scent sends all his blood rushing south.

If Tav has a beard, he buries his face into the soft hairs. Letting them tickle his cheeks as he rubs his face against theirs until his legs feel like jelly.

His favourite scent is all it takes to turn him into mush.

[fuckinart]

(they'll never understand) How could I ever understand? No, I don't have to understand. I don't wanna understand. So I will never understand. (we could have everything)