#then placed in a situationship

[min3nc]

and i continue being the piece of shit i always am 👍 i am the toxic ex, after all

[levemetal]

Dual calamities Qijiu AU save me.... save me Dual Calamity Qijiu...

Yes they are wearing each other's former coats/outer layer and tons of matching accessory and garment pieces why do you ask

Details under the cut/Rambling ahead

Dual calamities AU, post pidw. SJ kills himself on the shards of Xuan Su by swallowing them. Qijiu end up entwined into one ghost amalgamation, their combined regrets hatred spite and resentment and everything creating a nearly supreme/calamity level ghost. They go off indiscriminately murdering in the demon realm in a mindless unaware rampage, consuming ghosts and demons alike and becoming stronger until they are strong enough to be aware once more.

Luo Binghe becomes aware of the new calamity too late, due to his distraction with the Bingge vs Bingmei extra happenings, and ends up regretting it as he fails to catch up to them time and time again, despite attempting to chase down the new calamity that slaughtered half the demons in a mindless rage.

It could go down the Bingqijiu path or be simply Qijiu retreating somewhere to live in peace. Maybe being annoyed later on by Hua Cheng and/or He Xuan, maybe even Bai Wuxiang once. They kick Qi Rong off a mountain once, when he comes to annoy them for the title only to prove that is not a calamity (unfortunately for him, ily stinky green ghost). SJ is gonna have the time of his life roasting his ass. Qi Rong will leave both in pieces and tears.

Their only disadvantage really is that they cannot seperate too much, physically. But I imagine after being in each other's brains after the soul merge they don't particularly care to be (nor would they want to be. This is Qijiu we're talking about.) It's Qijiu's codependant dream. Xuan Su sewed them together and actually they are very very codependant and possessive after everything so this is just fine. They probably even have a Xuan Su blood weapon, that heeds both their commands and calls. While fighting they synchronise, with YQY being the strength and SJ the brains.

I imagine YQY is able to conjure the arrows that pierced him as spiritual projectiles, and SJ chains that bound him in the water prison. Their strength was cultivated by absorbing and devouring other ghosts and demons.

@ace-shenanigans came up with the lovely title "jade dragon stalks bamboo" which is a much better title than I could ever hope to come up with. Thank you for listening to my mad ramblings

I've been wanting to draw and think on this for a while, of how grotesque to make the initial ghost + the later higher cultivation form. But basically the kiln and everything would count them as one ghost, probably a dual title too. They'd be like a myth amongst the realms, retreating to a comfortable mountain peak with bamboo, occassionally off to hunt down slavers.

[introspectivememories]

[sauronism]

armand would rather throw that old man into the trash can, than calling daniel "maitre". he would NEVER fucking do that.

[maverickcanine]

who wants more crooler x windra propaganda

[spideriot]

smth very metal abt d20's personification of hyperfixation being a big buff red hitman who kills distractions with facts thats exactly how it feels

[laundrybiscuits]

Just cleaning up some of the snippets that have been lingering in my drafts, partly to take a wee break from posting massively self-indulgent experimental weirdness! This is from the matchmaking fic I was messing around with a little while ago.

So: the Vickie thing. Or, as Robin privately thinks of it, The Vickie Thing, capital letters and all. 

Thinking about it makes her feel incredibly stupid and pathetic, so obviously she can’t think about anything else. It’s fine, though—it’ll be fine. Steve keeps telling her that it doesn’t really count, which feels good and bad at the same time. 

She’s not even actually allowed to be mad about it, because Vickie was always totally honest with her and Robin lied all the time. Not big lies, obviously, just stuff like yeah of course I’d love to help you pick out an outfit for your date and of course it doesn’t mean anything and no it’s totally fine. 

It’s just—a girl had wanted to sleep in her bed and hold her hand and gaze into her eyes late at night, trading meaningless secrets back and forth. A cute girl with a sweet smile and really cool taste in music, who was trying really hard to be vegetarian but kept sneaking bites of Panda Express orange chicken when she thought Robin wasn’t looking. 

It had been so easy, when she was with Vickie, to just chase that effervescent feeling any way she could. Easy to say yes to whatever Vickie wanted, because Vickie was never pushy about anything; Vickie would only ever ask hesitantly, like she didn’t know what was allowed, and Robin just wanted to give Vickie everything in the world. Sometimes Robin had felt like she’d claw her own lungs out if Vickie would just say she wanted them. 

Robin had spent a lot of time wondering if she was making it all up in her head. But Vickie had a way of looking at her, of smiling at her, that made the air between them feel heavy and copper-bright. Vickie had told her I don’t think I’ve ever had a—a friend like you before. Like, a girl friend.

And in Robin’s head, the space between girl and friend had been like an inhale; a vacuum. A space that wasn’t a space at all, until it turned out that it was.

———

After Robin helps Eden get the book down from the top shelf, she thinks that’s going to be the end of it. Just another day embarrassing herself in front of pretty girls; what’s new? 

But Eden sticks around for some reason, wants to know if Robin’s read the book—Candide, by Voltaire—and when Robin blurts out that she’s read it in the original French like a pretentious asshole, Eden just rolls her eyes and says okay, genius, and shoves at Robin’s arm in a way that makes Robin think it’s not that big a disaster after all. 

And before Robin knows what’s happening, they have plans to hang out the next day, because Eden’s apparently got nothing else to do and doesn’t want to hang around with her ex-boyfriend and the entire Hopper-Byers household. She just comes out and says it like it’s obvious. Maybe it is, but nobody Robin knows ever talks like that, no apologies or anything. 

Eden’s so different from just about everyone in Hawkins. She’s real in a way Robin doesn’t know what to do with. She talks like she’s just passing through on her way to something big and bright. 

“Like…New York?”

Eden shrugs, loose shirt collar slipping a little over one shoulder. Not all the way, just—it’s a really big shirt for her to be wearing. It looks like a grown man’s shirt, even though it’s got a tacky, faded skull with what looks like angel wings on the back and some tattered lettering that Robin can’t make out. 

“Maybe,” says Eden. “New York sounds cool. I just gotta turn eighteen first. I was going to hitchhike to LA when I turned sixteen last year, but it—there’s, y’know, the kids.”

“You must really care about them,” says Robin. She’s always wanted siblings. It sounds nice, having a bunch of other kids around all the time, rolling their eyes at their parents together and sharing secrets. Like a built-in set of friends. 

“Nah. I mean, I guess, kinda. Not really.” Eden glances down, picking at her cuticles. One starts to bleed, and she makes a face and jams her hands into her armpits. It’s probably going to stain her shirt.

“Where I’m from…” Eden tips her head back, rocking back on her heels a little. “Everyone’s just, I don’t know. Stuck. They can’t even look up from their stupid pointless freaking lives where they never go anywhere or do anything. They’re all going to get pregnant with a million babies, and those babies are going to have a million babies, and nothing will ever change. It’s a shithole. It’ll always be a shithole, forever and ever until the end of the universe.”

“Dark,” says Robin.

“Yep.” Eden smiles at her. The afternoon sun draws a bright, precise curve on her cheek. “Mistress of Darkness, that’s me. C’mon, Robin Buckley—let’s go see what else Hawkins has going on. I wanna taste the forbidden delights of a whole different shithole.”

———

Eddie sacrifices a notebook to the cause, because obviously Steve Harrington did not actually bring any supplies for this little planning session. Eddie would bet all his worldly possessions that Steve was the kind of guy who never even took out his pen in group projects.

“What do we know about Tammy Thompson?” he asks, gnawing on the end of his Bic. 

“She wants to be a singer,” says Steve decisively. 

Eddie writes CAN’T SING under her name and underlines it twice. Steve screws up his face like he’s trying not to laugh. 

“She’s got, uh. Ambitions? She’s ambitious?” Steve tries, but Eddie can tell his heart’s not in it, so he ignores that and writes BLONDE instead.

“Is blonde important?” 

Eddie shrugs. “If that’s Robin’s type, maybe.”

“I think she bleaches it. She was more, like, strawberry blonde in school. And hey, Vickie’s a redhead, so…”

Eddie crosses out BLONDE and writes EX-REDHEAD???

“Hey Harrington, next time you see her, maybe you should suggest she dye it back. Maybe Robin will be overcome with lust and the problem will solve itself.”

“Huh, you think?”

There’s a denim jacket crumpled at the end of the bed; Eddie picks it up and lobs it directly at Steve’s head. Devastatingly, Steve snatches it out of the air and shrugs it on like it’s no big thing, smirking.

“No, you fucking asshole,” groans Eddie. “I do not think Buckley is capable of making any kind of move. She’s like a skittish woodland creature. How come she never picked up any of, like…your whole deal?” 

“My…deal?”

“Yeah, you know.” Eddie flops down on the bed with a gusty sigh. “Your Casanova thing. Bet you’ve never even thought twice about pulling out the charm at some poor unsuspecting set of tits.”

“Girls like my charm!” squawks Steve. “I was Prom King!”

“How far’s that get you with college girls lately?”

Steve scowls and prods at Eddie’s ribs with his big toe. “I’m just saying, I’ve got—moves.”

“Okay, okay, you’ve got moves.” Eddie sits up and grabs his hair, bunching it into two sloppy pigtails. He pitches his voice up an octave. “Ooh, look, Harrington, I’m Tammy Thompson and I never met a key change I couldn’t fuck up, how are you gonna put your famous moves on me?”

Steve’s rolling his eyes, but he shifts closer on the bed. “Hey, Tammy,” he says. “That’s a really cool, uh, shirt you’re wearing.”

“British Steel defined thrash and paved the way for Metallica,” says Eddie, still in Tammy’s voice. “You utter philistine.”

“Huh,” says Steve, smiling. He’s good; it looks real. “Sounds like it was, uh, pretty important. Maybe we could give it a listen sometime? You could tell me all about it.”

“Take me now, big boy,” Eddie warbles, throwing himself dramatically over Steve’s lap. 

Steve laughs, but doesn’t shove Eddie off onto the floor like he’d been expecting. “No, for real, what’s the album about?”

“You better be careful, Steve Harrington,” says Eddie, sliding back into his real octave. “Charm like that, you’re gonna have me falling in love with you too.”

Eddie can feel Steve freeze up, eyes going wide. He sits up, putting a little space back between them, and busies himself picking some fluff out of his hair. “Come on, take a joke, man. Promise your virtue’s safe from me.”

Christ, he needs a smoke.

[girlthativealwaysbeen]

pata hai last kuch din i was very busy with my project kyunki final dena tha and binding karni thi etc to wo karwayi then i went to the bookfair bekaar tha then parso submit karne jaa rahi to subah accident hogaya (bhai ki bike skid hogayi and we fell down) and now i have a big ass blue bruise on my upper thigh and my parents don't even know lmao and kal ek science conference thi to i had to sit in an auditorium for 6 hours listening to accomplished people speak. that's what you missed now your turn

omg i knew everything in this except for the accident cause i stalk your blog vigorously everyday are you okay!!!!!!!!!! did you get tetanus shots!!!!!!!!!! also on your upper thigh oh no that's where future jiju is supposed to write MINE na as per our beloved song guilty as sin?

[headroom-moods]

When you realize it, Tim was never the other woman— it always has been Lucy.

[slavhew]

so picky with yuri i only eat homemade (perfectly burnt and oversalted)

[toxcicada]

My Asexual-old-man X Interdimensional-weird-guy toxic situationship playlist. Some silly Billy songs, some bill-is-pathetic-in-the-theraprism songs, some toxic manipulative relationship songs, some Ford-losing-his-mind songs, some possessed-Ford songs, a couple brotherly conflict songs thrown in, a lotta Get Scared, & various emo breakup bangers.

[ceraea]

"I'm queen of sand castles he destroys"

By: me/_ceraea_

Title inspo: "My boy only breaks his favorite toys" by Taylor Swift

"you make it so difficult to understand you, it's like reading braille with thorns. Almost impossible to decipher and understand.

I attempt to sympathize with you, yet the walls and thorns you've built up makes it difficult to even enjoy your company.

I cannot explain how I feel for you, wishing you would be something more than this.

You're like a child trying to fill shoes not meant for you. Destroying yourself for the sake of acceptance.

Sadly, your own parents did not want to guide you, but I can't take that role without hurting myself too.

A tragedy considering your potential."

[widowshill]

crazy how i was certifiably insane about a prequel novel potc character for eleven years and then i decided i'm done with that now time to put the blonde man in a blender

[willowser]

hmm. want to write something unfortunately heartbreaking with bakugou.

[thealatvs]

“hey bandage boy, how about you let me rock your world?”

[deadandphilgames]

oversharing in the tags time :)