#was That bad. that's a cool idea innit

[spectral-central]

The fact that so many people are less willing to believe spiderverse gwen stacy is trans and more willing to believe that her peter, who got so bullied it ended up killing him, was is. Like it's not bad i guess but it's. It's something alright

[wreckedandpolemic]

insatiable, is what she is - matty healy

prompt: love potion

(mdni) day 2 of the valentine75 prompts by the inimitable @abiiors <3 i hope i'm doing them justice

warnings: aphrodisiac use (lets pretend these are real its my mind palace ok), unprotected sex, mild breeding kink, oral (f receiving), degradation, dom/sub dynamic, choking, d word

You stare down at the chocolates sitting on the table, unassuming foil wrapped around an alluring promise. “You ready?” Matty asks, his tone chasing a shudder up your spine. You’d teased the idea of an aphrodisiac a little while ago, tempted by the idea of lust so uncontrollable it consumes you entirely. In his way, Matty had gone off and ordered it, and you’d both promptly forgotten until it was sitting innocently at your doorstep.

Smirking, you pick up a chocolate and tap it against his in a toast, twisting the wrapper off with your teeth and placing it on your tongue. The familiar tastes of chocolate and champagne fill your mouth as it melts, your tongue darting out to wet your lips.

You aren’t sure what to expect, studying Matty’s face carefully, searching for any sign that he’s affected. His eyes flicker over you and he laughs, giving a little, clueless shrug. “Waste of money, that, innit?”

“Give it some time,” you say, hand wandering to unbutton your blouse and grinning as Matty’s gaze drifts downward.

“That’s cheating,” he mutters, swallowing thickly. “You know your fucking tits drive me crazy.”

Raking your fingers through your hair, you lean and arch your back, pushing your chest out towards him. “Is it working yet?”

A smirk pulls at Matty’s lips and he shakes his head. “Nah. Just you, I think.”

You lean across the table with a pout. “Well, that just won’t do,” you say, spinning around in your chair and getting to your feet. “We’ve got to see if it works for real. Give it…” You examine the box. “Ten minutes, and we’ll see, hm? Good boy.” You pat his cheek patronisingly as he nods, swaying your hips purposefully as you stroll into the living room. A smile plays on your lips as Matty’s gaze burns brazenly into your ass, heat licking up your spine.

You kick back on the sofa, flipping through the channels and settling on some mindless sitcom, obnoxious laugh track blaring as you sift through your thoughts. It barely takes five minutes before heat is prickling under your skin and you’re sweating like you’ve just run a mile. Your hands act without your permission, stripping off your clothes and tossing them away, leaving you stretched out on the sofa in blush-pink lingerie. It barely works, the cool air brushing over you doing nothing to combat the fire roaring to life under your skin. You palm one of your tits and squeeze gently, that scant touch sending a bolt of desire through you.

Yeah, the chocolate definitely works.

Without you even noticing, arousal has started pooling in your underwear, damp as you dip a finger below your waistband. The pleasure is dramatically intense with the barest brush over your clit, shooting up your spine with a fierceness that sends you reeling. A moan slips from your lips, and, as if on cue, Matty cracks the living room door open. He looks as dishevelled as you feel, face flushed and sweating, damp curls sticking to his forehead, already stripped down to his boxers. You moan his name and his eyes blow impossibly wider as he crosses the room in two strides, collapsing on top of you and attacking your lips with fervour. Your legs tangle around his waist, grinding hard against his clothed cock, frenzied desire swallowing you whole.

“Need you,” you gasp out against his mouth, erratic bursts of pleasure snapping all over your body, the heat of him against you glorious and extreme all at once.

Matty moans into your mouth and you swallow the sounds greedily, your lips meeting in a slick, messy facsimile of a kiss. “Need you so fucking bad, fuck,” he hisses. “Couldn’t wait any longer, can’t keep my fucking hands off you.” He shoves his boxers down his legs and kicks them to the floor, his red, dripping cock thudding against his belly.

Your hips rock as you discard your panties, a whine falling from your lips when Matty’s rough fingers find your clit, rubbing over it for the briefest second and sending a pulse of white-hot euphoria shrieking through you. “Don’t tease,” you beg. “Need your fucking cock, Matty, please,” you whimper, savouring his low moan as you grasp his drooling cock and guide it to your greedy, dripping cunt.

“Fuck, princess.” Matty’s breathing is shaky as he pushes into you, filling you in one fluid stroke that knocks the breath from your lungs, your cunt clenching around his cock like a vice. “Love this cunt so much, yeah? Love your pretty hole taking my cock over and over and over.” He punctuates the words with deep, intense thrusts that have you unspooling faster and faster with every passing second, the pornographic sounds of your hips meeting driving you wild. Matty dips his head to bite savagely at your neck and chest, sucking stark, red bruises into your skin.

Thrashing under him, incoherent curses fall from your lips; you pant as your heartbeat races, hammering like a wounded animal. Heat pools in your core, your cunt wet and sticking your thighs, your head swimming in pleasure. Matty rubs tight, fast circles into your clit, fire catching under your skin and raging into a blaze that melts your flesh and chars your bones. “God, you feel so fucking good,” you whimper. “More, harder, please.” Your voice cracks on the last syllable, breaking into a drawn-out, desperate whine that has Matty groaning into your mouth.

His hips snap against yours with abandon, your eyes rolling back as you struggle to breathe through the sheer pleasure that crushes your lungs. “That’s it,” Matty murmurs, breaths coming hot and heavy against your lips. You swallow greedy lungfuls of him, intoxicated. “Good girl. My pretty little slut. Fucking drunk on my cock, hm?” A smirk stretches wide and filthy across his lips, bruised and spit-slick. “Gonna fill you up, yeah? Have you fuckin’ dripping for me,” he promises, his words sending steady drips of hot pleasure down your spine. Matty’s eyes go wide and he smirks down at you. “You like that? You like hearing how bad I wanna cum in this sweet cunt? Want me to stuff you full, put a fucking baby in you?”

Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp, filthy words washing over you like a prayer. One last harsh circle over your clit, and you scream, the taste of iron filling your mouth as you bite down hard on Matty’s lower lip. Euphoria spills over you in unending waves, your grip on your consciousness going slack as Matty fucks into you over and over. He spills inside you with a sound that starts as your name and crumbles into a long, low moan, murmuring how he adores your cunt and how pretty it looks pumped full of him. 

You’re dizzy, back arching and body sweat-soaked as you come down from your high, whining when Matty pulls out of you. It barely takes the edge off, your body still simmering and weak with desire. “Want more,” you beg, grabbing at him as he pouts down at you, the faint edge of humiliation coiling hot and heavy in your core.

“Sweet baby,” he croons. “Let me take you to bed, hm?” You crush your lips against his in lieu of an answer, your stomach swooping as he scoops you off the sofa and gets to his feet. Your legs stay twined around his waist, grinding your cunt against his stomach and moaning wantonly into his mouth.

You only make it a few feet before Matty is depositing you on the kitchen island, kissing over the bruises on your neck as he makes his way down your body. “Drive me fucking crazy, love. Need to eat you. Please?” he murmurs, kissing over your thighs as you giggle and squirm.

Carding a hand through Matty’s greying curls, you rest your legs over his shoulders. “So fucking pretty when you’re on your knees for me. Fucking cuntstruck, yeah?” Patting his cheek, you shift your hips, arching your back to press your cunt towards him.

His tongue darts out to brush over your clit and you gasp, a bright spark of pleasure buzzing intensely up your spine. Your hand fists in his hair and you drag his head so his mouth meets your skin. A silent gasp falls from your lips as Matty works his tongue over you in long, sloppy strokes, alternating between sucking your clit and lapping at your hole in a toe-curling rhythm. Unbidden, your hips grind against his face, ecstasy churning in your belly as your hands white-knuckle the edge of the counter.

Matty moans into your cunt, the sound rolling through you deliciously, white-hot pleasure flooding your vision as your eyes screw shut. “Taste so fucking good,” Matty murmurs reverently, palms gliding over your thighs and sending a shiver up your spine. “I can taste myself on you. So fucking hot,” he adds, burying his head back between your thighs and tongue-fucking you wildly.

Pulses of heat throb desperately in your cunt, a second heartbeat jackhammering against Matty’s mouth. His fingers come up to rub at your clit, calluses scraping at your tender nerves gloriously. Your thighs clench around his head, trapping him in place as he eats you like a man starved. Pleasure builds at the base of your spine, spreading through your limbs and setting your head spinning as you grind desperately against Matty’s mouth. The elastic band of tension in your belly pulls tighter and tighter until it rends in two, shockwaves coursing through you as you gasp and writhe. Your vision whites out, euphoria overtaking you, so hot it’s blinding.

Matty moans softly between your legs, murmuring encouragingly as your arousal drips down his chin, your cunt pulsing with the aftershocks. The storm of desire still rages under your skin, wanton and begging, thick and sticky in your lungs as you struggle for breath. He gets to his feet, leaning down to kiss you, and you lick the taste of you out of his mouth eagerly. On instinct, your legs lock around his waist, your wrecked, soaking cunt pressing against his cock. “Think you can take one more?” Matty asks, nails biting into your hips as he lifts you off the counter.

“If you don’t fucking split me open on your fucking cock in the next five fucking seconds—” Matty cuts you off with a searing kiss, your lips tender and swollen against his as he carries you into the bedroom.  You smile blissfully up at him as you fall against the sheets, his eyes blown wide and his jaw slack. “Come on, baby,” you moan, hand falling to toy with your clit. You’re greedy, soaked in a pleasure so all-consuming that you can’t think of anything but him. You want him more than you think you’ve ever wanted anything. “Can have me any way you want, just want your fucking cock.” Your words come out slurred, thick with desire.

Matty holds still, eyes roving over you. How he has so much control over himself still, you can’t begin to fathom. Then, a muscle jumps in his jaw, his fists clenching, and you realise how hard he’s fighting for it. You widen your legs and moan theatrically, showing off for him, and you watch the thread of his control snap. “Fucking slut,” he hisses as he collapses on top of you. “Greedy little whore. Fucking gagging for my dick, yeah?” he murmurs between kisses so hungry they border on violence. “So fucking wet and needy,” he adds, trailing teasingly across your cunt, sharp pleasure spiking when he meets your oversensitive nerves. “Just a pretty little hole for me, hm?”

“Yeah,” you moan out, whining needily. “‘M your whore, Matty, please—”

Your words break off with a gasp as Matty rests a hand around your throat; not yet choking you, just a warning, a promise that tingles deliciously up your spine. “Shh,” Matty murmurs, soothing tone at impossible odds with the pressure of his hand at your throat. “Be a good fucktoy for me, yeah? Nice and quiet?” You nod frantically, your grasp on language faltering, slipping from your mind to make room for the ever-growing pool of desire swelling there.

A dizzying burst of pleasure wracks you as Matty tightens his hand around your throat and fucks into you at the same moment. Your pulse hammers under his fingers, your heart racing so fast it’s deliriating, your limbs heavy with euphoria. A string of pathetic whines and moans fall from your lips as Matty — there’s no other word for it — pounds into you, the mattress squeaking rhythmically with every thrust. The stretch burns deliciously in your sore cunt, the angle mind-numbing as you wrap your legs around his waist.

“My pretty girl,” Matty murmurs reverently. “You love this, don’t you? Being a good little toy for Daddy?” Your mind goes blank, breath trapped in your lungs, your body suspended in endless pleasure. It’s constant, unyielding, stronger than you’ve ever felt, your cunt clenching around Matty’s cock, every thrust drawing you closer to rapture. Matty watches the change in your face with a smirk, gripping your throat harder as he speaks. “Daddy’s little slut, yeah? Just a pretty hole for me to fuck, hm? Get off on being used like this?”

You moan out something that sounds enough like yes to satisfy him, and he lifts his hand from your neck to grip your jaw, pulling your mouth open. Your tongue lolls out expectantly, and his spit lands in your eager mouth. Eyes fluttering closed, you swallow obediently, a shudder rolling over you when Matty returns his hand to your throat. “‘M so close, Daddy, please,” you whine, rocking your hips up to meet his as ecstasy wipes you clean.

“I don’t care,” he hisses, punctuating his words with another squeeze against your throat. “Shut up and fucking take it like a good girl, yeah?” His words wash over you, degradation striking you with all the tenderness of a caress. Slick, pornographic sounds ring out, your world going fuzzy at the edges as a yawning chasm of pure bliss opens under you. You balance precariously on the edge, your orgasm pulling you closer every time Matty’s hips meet yours. “You feel so fucking good around my cock, princess. Such a good little cumdump for Daddy. My pretty toy.”

His words tip you over the edge, praise sliding sweetly against the burn of humiliation. Your world shatters into sparks that burn behind your eyes as you come harder than you think you ever have. A scream you’re only vaguely aware is yours rings out, arousal gushing out of you and soaking Matty, puddling on the sheets under you. Chest heaving, you gasp for breath, clutched in euphoria so dramatically intense you aren’t fully sure you haven’t died.

Your body shudders, wracking with aftershocks and finally sated as Matty fucks you through, making good on his promise to use you like a toy. He offers you the small mercy of lifting his hand from your throat, eyes glazed as he gazes down at you. “Fucking hell, angel. Such a good girl, squirting on my dick. ‘M so fucking close, fuck.” Matty drops his head to kiss you, muffling his whines against your mouth as he comes, cock twitching and pulsing, pumping you full and painting your insides.

You pout at the loss when he pulls out, and he chuckles fondly, thumbing over your bruised lips. “Such a good girl,” Matty says. “Did so well, princess.”

Still cradled in bliss, you smile beatifically up at him. “‘M your good girl,” you murmur happily, eyes slipping closed.

“Yeah, you are,” he whispers, rolling off you and pulling you close, gathering you into the safety of his arms. “That was fucking amazing, darling. Can’t believe I made you fucking squirt,” he adds, awed, and you can hear in his voice that he’s going to make a mission out of recreating it.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you tease, finally coming back to yourself. “Never been that horny in my life. Fucking chocolate.”

You giggle when Matty pinches your hip in response. “Oi. Thought I fucked all the brat out of you already.” He brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear, adoration plain on his face as he watches you smile and blink sleepily.

“You’d try,” you scoff, whining and cuddling closer when he tries to move.

“Baby, we really need to get cleaned up,” Matty says with a quiet laugh, extricating himself from your arms and padding into the bathroom.

Matty runs you a bath, acting a complete gentleman the whole time, cleaning you diligently and crooning apologies at all the right moments. The steady thump of his heartbeat lulls you, your body bone-deep exhausted against him. Somehow, in that time you lost to your hazy, satisfied mind, he’s changed your sheets. He pulls one of his shirts over your head and lays you down gently, letting you relax against the crisp smoothness of the fresh sheets. Limpet-like, you cling to Matty as he falls next to you, tucking your head into the crook of his neck; the warm, familiar scent of him envelops you as your eyes finally flutter closed.

[writing-for-life]

Considering this is a site where so many people have aspirations to become professional authors or artists, I think it’s really astounding that many (often the same) people encourage book piracy. And by that I mean: They don’t just do it behind closed doors (whatever, do what you have to do and keep it to yourself)—they actually package it as some act of immeasurable kindness in the name of “social justice”. And I’d say: If you’re not a professional author and have no experience in or with publishing, hence don’t really understand what it means to make your living as a writer, maybe just… don’t? And if you ever want to sell your books, maybe also just… don’t?

It’s not some cool subversive thing in the name of social justice you’re doing. You’re really hurting authors with it, and it’s in no way comparable to “fighting the big bad streamers.”

Yes, Neil Gaiman will be okay, but if you’re saying it’s okay to do it to him, you’re also saying by extension it’s okay to do it to lesser known authors. And those authors make up the vast (and I mean vast!) majority of authors. But maybe you’re one of those people who think that all artists are minted and picture them in La La Land, entirely possible. If that’s the case, maybe educate yourself what the median income of authors is, be very surprised and wake up. Sometimes, it really helps to think before hitting post. And if rants are not your thing, this is the exit sign because I’m not going to mince my words…

Here are a couple of really good comments from *that* post that people should maybe inwardly digest before they prioritise being oh-so-understanding and supportive of every Tom, Dick & Harry who “can’t afford the book” via piracy (how about buying them one instead if you care so much. No? Thought so) over supporting authors, artists and, yes, libraries:

(Re the last comment: Or use online libraries—they’re also free. That was also part of above post btw. Libby, Hoopla etc exist for a reason.)

If that’s all too hard, then let’s at least stop pretending on here that we care about supporting authors and artists while vocally supporting book piracy. Because really, it’s the same in all arts, even if the symptoms are slightly different—take it from one who is both a published author and used to be a stage performer.

And to say it quite frankly: These “ideas” are probably held by the same people who were tearfully blabbering about the arts being what kept them going during the pandemic and then forgot about it all when lockdown was over. Or maybe they are the same people who think that art is a “jolly pastime”, and that everyone should just be content to “do it for the love of it and give their art away for free because awwwww, so amazing, here, buy food with my exposure bucks.” Go on then, write and consume fanfics and create fanart, problem solved. Just don’t ever ask for the pro art that inspires it again. Ah no, I forgot, it’s all made for money and soulless anyway, innit? Why oh why then do you want to consume and pirate it though?

You’re not progressive and/or supportive of artists. You just have no clue how making a living in the arts works and think your comfort (= “I have to have all the things even if I can’t afford them”) matters more than someone’s livelihood (namely that of the people who devoted their lives to creating that art for you), and it really shows.

I don’t care about anyone’s Google history and even said so several times on here when people asked (this is the latest one, and yes, I see the people who had a “reaction” to this one or the reblog above, but I bet that’s “coincidence”). Do whatever you want to do, it’s your choice, keep it to yourself. But stop pretending that piracy means “caring about the noble cause”, because repackaging entitlement as social activism is performative crap…

[engie-ivy]

In short: Wolfstar And They Were Roommates Coffee Shop AU Idiots in Love

Marlene meets Remus, who's looking for a new place to live, as he can't deal with his feelings for his roommate anymore. So when Marlene’s coworker Sirius tells her that his roommate is moving out, it seems like a good idea to bring him into contact with Remus. Marlene may have missed something, though.

And They Were/Are/Will Be Roommates

Remus had been nervous for this moment. He’s usually not very good at talking to strangers, but he knows that if he wants to be considered for the room, he’s going to have to get along with the other tenants. Remus had responded to an add from the girls living in the house, looking for a new roommate now that one of them has moved in with her boyfriend. Miraculously, they’ve invited Remus over for an initial meeting.

His nerves only increased when he saw the girls.

They’re the cool, confident kind of girls whom Remus would’ve admired from afar, but never would’ve dared to talk to. The redhead with her captivating emerald eyes, the tall blond with her edgy style, the petit brunette with her feisty attitude. It triggered a lot of Remus’ old insecurities. He was half expecting these beautiful girls to laugh in his face upon realizing this awkward, weird guy thought he could be their new roommate.

But to his surprise, they seem to be hitting it off.

The conversation flows easily, and before Remus knows it, they’re all talking animatedly. Remus is drawn to Lily’s kindness, Marlene’s sarcasm, and Mary’s cheerful energy. They, in return, seem to appreciate Remus’ dry wit. They chat about their degrees, jobs, hometowns, favourite books, and whatnot.

“So, Remus,” Marlene says at some point. “Why are you actually looking for a new place to live?”

“Oh, it’s just...” Remus averts his eyes and shrugs. “Roommate issues.”

Mary scrunches up her nose. “Bad roommates are the worst. What do they do? Leave their dishes in the sink?”

“Sing in the shower?”

“Leave their hair in the drain?”

“Or dirty socks in the living room?”

“Play loud music late at night?”

“Let you do all the cooking?”

“Leave mouldy food in the fridge?”

“Sneak into your room late at night and watch you sleep?”

“What? No! No, none of that.” Remus runs a hand through his hair. “I mean, yeah, he does sing in the shower, but I kinda really like that about him? He sounds so happy and carefree when he’s singing just for himself. We actually put on this terribly corny music while doing the dishes together, and sing along really loudly. It almost makes doing the dishes the best part of the day! True, he’s not the best cook, so I usually take it up, but he’ll make me my favourite tea every morning, exactly the way I like it. And on Sunday, he’ll get up early to go to the bakery and get me fresh cinnamon buns for breakfast. He’s just so kind, and he always knows how to make me smile, and that’s... Well, and that’s just the fucking problem, innit?” Remus let’s out a deep sigh. “You see, I’ve gone and fallen head over heels in love with him.”

Mary looks thoughtful. “So the problem actually is that he doesn’t sneak into your room late at night?”

Remus chuckles, but then shakes his head. “I’ve never been very good at self-care, but I can’t keep living in the same apartment as him, being around him all the time, while he’s just there being this stupidly amazing person.”

Lily gives him a sympathetic smile. “That does sound like a mental health liability.”

The girls exchange a look. Then turn back to Remus.

“Shite, we were hoping you’d be an arse,” Mary sighs.

“You see,” Marlene says. “This girl we know, Dorcas, she’s just gotten out of an abusive relationship, and she’ll be kicked out on the street. She has nowhere to go, so we have actually just decided she can have the room...”

“We’re very sorry,” Lily adds.

“Not at all!” Remus quickly says. “I understand. Sounds like she needs it more than me.”

“We do really like you,��� Mary assures him. “We totally should hang out again!”

“Yes,” Lily agrees. “We may not be able to give you a new place to live, but we can give you new friendships!” She cringes. “Oh god, did that sound as lame to you as it did to me?”

Remus laughs. “It kinda did, but I agree! It would be great if we ‘can still be friends’.”

Marlene snorts, but then she notices the time. “Oh shite.” She jumps to her feet. “It’s that late already? I’ve got to go! I said I’d jump in with the midday shift. It was lovely to meet you, Remus. I’ll keep an eye out for anyone having a room available. And of course, I hope to see you again soon,” she says, while already rushing out the door.

“It is indeed later than I thought,” Lily says, turning to Remus. “Would you like to stay for lunch, or is your roommate expecting you?”

“No, he’s at work,” Remus replies. “So I’d love to stay!”

“And how’d you like your coffee?”

Sirius’ voice sounds flat, monotone.

The customer leans on the counter. “I’d like it hot, please.” He eyes Sirius up and down. “Quite like my barista.”

“One hot coffee coming up,” Sirius says, giving no reaction to the customer’s obvious flirting, his face an impassive mask.

Sirius makes the coffee like a robot. “Here you go.” He sounds like a robot too. “Would you like anything to eat with that?”

“No thank you, darling. The eye-candy is more than enough for me.”

“That’ll be one pound seventy-five, please.”

The customer blinks. He pays, and walks away, looking rather dejected.

“Sirius!” Marlene hisses, dragging Sirius to the side as the lunch rush dies down a little. “Even if you’re not into it, can you at least be kind to the customers flirting with you? You know that eighty percent of our tip jar depends on you being cute!”

“I’m sorry, Marls,” Sirius sighs. “I’m just... really not feeling it today.”

Marlene eyes him. “What is with you?

“It’s my roommate,” Sirius mumbles, looking at the floor.

“Ah,” Marlene sits down on the counter. “Another instalment of Pining Sirius and the Cute Roommate. How did he turn your brain into mush this time? Sweaterpaws? Giggling the whole time while trying to tell a joke? Biting his lip while thinking? Ranting about his favourite book for an hour? Wearing your jacket?”

“He’s moving out.”

“Shite.”

“Shite, indeed,” Sirius wholeheartedly agrees.

“Are you gonna be in trouble with rent?” Marlene asks, concerned. “You know that Alice just moved in with Frank, and we’ve actually been interviewing potential new roommates. There were some great people that we couldn’t pick. I can give you their contact information so you can-”

“Rent’s fine,” Sirius interrupts. “It’s just... I really liked living with him, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Marlene says softly. “I know.”

“I know we’re only roommates,” Sirius says. “And it was always going to be temporary, but... Fuck, Marlene. He just felt like home.”

“Do you know why he’s moving out?” Marlene asks.

Sirius shakes his head. “He won’t tell me. Which just confirms my suspicion that it must be something I did.”

A customer just walked up to the counter. “Excuse me, you’ve made my coffee wrong, it’s-”

Sirius puts his head in his hands and exclaims “Why do I always have to ruin everything?”

The customer gives a start. “I mean, it’s not that bad. I just... never tasted coffee with salt instead of sugar before. It’s... an acquired taste, that’s all.” He puts five pounds into the tip jar before slowly backing away.

Marlene makes a mental note that she should really remember that for next time a customer comes to complain, before she grabs Sirius’ arm and drags him to the back. She sits Sirius down on a chair and notices to her horror there are tears glistening in his eyes.

“None of this!” Marlene says firmly, placing her hands on her hips. “You listen to me. If he doesn’t tell you what the fuck his problem is, then it’s nothing you can fix, and then it’s not your fucking fault! Besides, you are much too cute to be crying over some guy.”

Sirius gives her a weak smile, that looks all but convincing.

Marlene pinches the bridge of her nose. “You know what, no. I’m not going to let you wallow in self-pity, so here’s what were going to do. The girls and I just interviewed this super nice guy today. Unfortunately, our free room had just been taken, but that’s good news for you! He can be your new roommate, and help you get over the old roommate. Sirius, this guy is super cute, like, you won’t believe.”

Sirius doesn’t look very enthusiastic. “I highly doubt a new roommate who isn’t him is going to help me much, no matter how cute he is. But I suppose I am going to need someone to chip in with the rent, so I might as well give your guy a chance.”

“I’ll set up a meeting,” Marlene promises, before pulling Sirius into a hug. “I know it sucks right now, but you’ll be okay.”

A few days later, Marlene has the closing shift together with Sirius, and after they’ve locked up the coffee shop, they go to Marlene’s place together. Mary’s got a date, and Lily will be in the library studying until late, so Marlene has invited Remus over to meet Sirius.

Sirius is still down and uncharacteristically quiet. From what Marlene has heard, things have been rough between Sirius and his roommate these last few days. His roommate hasn’t found a new place yet, but while still living with Sirius, he seems to be trying to avoid him. It hurts Sirius, and the atmosphere between them has gotten tense.

Looking at Sirius now, Marlene starts to doubt whether this was such a good idea. She was hoping Sirius and Remus would distract each other from their love-sickness, and find support in each other as fellow-sufferers, but now she fears they’ll just bring each other down to wallow in their shared misery. She really hopes she’s not accidentally creating the most depressing household ever.

“He should be here soon,” Marlene says, once she has sat Sirius down on the couch with a drink.

“Mmm,” is Sirius’ only response.

“Could you... try to look a little pleased to meet him once he gets here?”

Before Sirius can answer her though, the doorbell rings.

“Ah, there he is. Be friendly,” Marlene reminds Sirius, before walking into the hallway to open the door.

“Hi! Glad you could make it!”

“Of course,” Remus smiles. “I’m glad you thought about me.” He sighs, and Marlene notices that he looks tired, like he’s had a rough few days. “I really do need to get out of that apartment.”

“Well, come on!” Marlene says, taking his arm and dragging him towards the living room, where Sirius gets to his feet the moment they enter.

“So this is him,” Marlene tells Remus. “The guy who needs a new roommate, as his current one will be moving out. He’s been pining after that guy long enough anyhow, so I’d say time to move on,” she adds with a chuckle. Then she turns to Sirius, who’s staring at Remus wide-eyed. “And this is the guy I’ve been telling you about! The one who needs a new place to live, because he might have accidentally caught feelings for his current roommate, and it’s starting to mess with his head.”

“Sirius!”

“Remus?”

“You two know each other?”

“Yeah,” Sirius says slowly, not taking his eyes off Remus. “He’s my roommate.”

“Well, that was decided quickly! I thought you would’ve needed some more time to get to know each other and-”

“No,” Sirius interrupts. “He’s my current roommate.”

“Oh. Oh.” Marlene looks from Sirius to Remus and back. “Please tell me you don’t have a third roommate you’re now finding out you’re both desperately in love with?”

“No,” Sirius says slowly, still only looking at Remus. “It’s just the two of us.”

“You’re in love with me,” Remus suddenly says.

“You’re in love with me,” Sirius says.

“You’re in love with each other!” Marlene says, clapping her hands in delight. “This is perfect! You were both pining! After each other! And now you can stop! And even better, now no one has to move! Let’s be honest, moving is the worst. Really, it seems like you’re-” She looks at Sirius and Remus again. “-like you’re not listening to a word I’m saying, are you?”

Sirius and Remus are looking at each intently, their gazes locked, Remus’ mouth slightly opened, Sirius’ pupils blown wide.

“I... should probably give you a moment,” Marlene says, slowly moving back towards the door. Right before she closes the door, she sees how they practically pounce at each other, Remus wrapping his arms around Sirius’ neck, Sirius wrapping his arms around Remus’ waist, their bodies pressed flush against each other, and their lips crashing together, which they’ve probably both been waiting a very long time to do.

“And as it turned out, they were roommates!” Marlene concludes the story, before pouring herself another glass.

She and Mary are sitting on the couch drinking wine, while Marlene has been recounting the whole story.

Mary gasps. “Oh my god, they were roommates!”

[cantfuckbracket]

Can't Fuck Bracket - Group Stage. Group 28: Characters That Inspired Paragraphs

Jiang Cheng (MDZS/The Untamed) versus Bertrand Beaumont (The Royal Romance) versus Joe Goldberg (You)

[ID: The unfuckable pride flag overlaid with the "no bitches" meme. Jiang is a Chinese man with long hair, shown with a woozy face; Bertrand is a white man in a sweater and blazer, frowning; Joe is a white man with short hair, shown staring blankly. Over it are pictures of the contestants. Over them are sparkles and a heart with a butt, and in between them are peach emojis crossed out with the word "vs" in them. End ID]

Propaganda:

Jiang Cheng: "He’s literally such a bad date that he is blacklisted from dating pools. He’s ranked as the 5th most handsome bachelor in the cultivation world (who is the panel of judges that decide this? I really don’t know!!!) yet despite this and him ALSO being rich and powerful on top of that, women still hate him!!! Hes just that unpleasant!!!!! He’s constantly being one-upped by his adoptive brother (deserved) (4th most handsome bachelor, btw) so much so that it’s become a meme, he even lost a best mdzs character poll tournament (in the first round iirc) to said adoptive brother’s pet donkey. Literally no one wants him!!!!! He is the loneliest saddest most pathetic sopping wet cat of a man I’ve ever seen!! I’m convinced he will die a virgin" / "Guy has no game, in the drama version (the untamed) he goes after a chick who’s clearly a lesbian and just never gets any"

Bertrand Beaumont:

• like father like son innit

• he's a cunt but not in a cool sexy way. in a pathetic overgrown rat kind of way that makes you want to punt him back into the sewers

• his name is bertrand archibald beaumont. would YOU wanna fuck him???? i thought not

• the amount of times you have to help him with his relationship. like the countless apologies for being a dumb stupid shit. helping him propose. help with his vows. im 110% convinced mc had to get on video chat for their wedding night so she could instruct bertrand on what to do

• yeeeeah you can't convince me they dont sleep in separate beds in separate rooms

• and also that nasty sweater vest and jacket?????? i know he hasnt washed them in years. of course no one would go near him

• that one country outfit

• killer eyebrows? eye'm gonna kill meself x

Joe Goldberg: "The first time he gets to fuck a woman that he's stalked he finishes in like 2 seconds. Never appears to be any better at fucking any of the countless times he fucks after that. I bet his dick feels like a limp fish. Also got arrested for having sex in a public place and constantly jacks off in public like I think if you were any good at sex you wouldnt need to be doing that. Tried to have a bisexual foursome once to get his wife to leave him and he wimped out so hard at the idea of fucking another man even though he is arguably bisexual himself. The most sexual tension he ever actually had was with a hallucination of another man he had in his own head. Just kind of pathetic"

[off-the-rails-raccoon]

TELL ME MORE OF YOUR HEADCANONS >:3 me wanna draw thema! anyones ideas to be honest-

- @cupidl0vesy0u

Cupid, my platonic beloved, you know i could NEVER ignore such a request. However, ya girl is seriously lacking in drawing worthy headcanons and just good headcanons in general so this is the best i could get, but THANK YOOUUU FOR PROMPTING ME TO TALK MORE ABOUT MY SILLY LITTLE HEADCANONS!!!!!

 —Tommy’s full name was Tommy Kraken Coward Careful Danger Innit, and on government or professional documents it was shortened to Tommy K. C. C. U. Innit. 

    The name ‘Tommy’ was given by Wilbur at their first meeting. Wilbur—even as young and inexperienced in reading people as he was at the time—was able to see the fierce determination to survive that shone in the younger's eyes as he ushered a smaller Tubbo behind him, using his free hand to wield a dirty stick as a make-shift sword; not unlike a soldier.

—Tommy's natural hair color was actually a golden brown—just a few shades lighter than Wilbur’s—but they dyed it to blonde when Tubbo dyed his natural blonde hair to brown. 

   However, he was forced to go back to being a brunette post-exile, mostly due to the fact it was too matted and unhealthy to even try to save, forcing him to get the messiest buzz cut ever.

    They re-dyed it sometime before The Prison Incident but allowed it to grow slightly past his shoulders even after revival and didn't care to deal with the brown roots. The length felt suffocating and claustrophobic, but he found comfort in the familiar feeling; even going as far as to purposefully only do half-up hairstyles. His personal favorite was half-up pigtails.

—Tommy always had, at the very least, five blades hidden in various places on his person at all times, to settle their intense paranoia; even as far as to have a razor blade kept under his tongue.

—Despite their bad experiences with heights, Tommy enjoyed sitting in high places and childishly swinging their legs off the edge. From this Tommy had grown into a very agile climber.

—Contrary to popular belief, Tommy was quite skilled in dealing with kids, so he'd often babysit the younger generation of the server in exchange for things only he found valuable such as mud, cobblestone, trinkets, moss, golden apples, bells of any sort, and cool rocks.

—Tommy found it difficult to tell that they're alive, and would occasionally spend days in a haze until someone reminded him to breathe.

   On those days—the days they felt like a mindless zombie roaming around without purpose, and he could swear he smelled of rot—plants would droop and wilt around him; a side effect of his reeking necromancy.

—Since his resurrection, butterflies have begun to flock Tommy, which left him to constantly wave them away. 

    They suspected it was due to the various flowers they kept sticking out of their pockets. Tommy does this not only because he simply likes picking flowers and collecting them, but also as a habit from war to ward away the rotten smell of the fallen soldiers.

—When they purposefully thought back to it, Tommy found that their memories of Logstedshire were oddly hazy and difficult to differentiate from the others. 

    Although, on the occasion something occurred that reminded him of the unwelcomed remembrances, he’d often undergo an intense PTSD-induced flashback, which acted as a painful reawakening for not only the same overwhelming emotional state they were in all that time ago, but also the physical pain they indured at the time of the traumatic event they "revisited".

—Tommy never cared much for their health more than the basic survival needs up until he met Tubbo and started tending to the goat’s wounds; Tubbo had very little experience with the streets when he had met Tommy, and Tommy felt a primitive obligation to help the older boy. 

    By treating the tiny injuries on Tubbo, most of which he wouldn't look twice at if he were to get them himself, Tommy learned of his natural affinity for first aid.

   Later in life, Niki taught them more complex first aid; and for as long as it took to learn, Tommy was Niki's apprentice in the earlier wars—which proved quite difficult to do considering Tommy had to simultaneously juggle the responsibility of being a young General as well as a military strategist.

—After Exile, Tommy picked up both crocheting and knitting as a coping mechanism and as a way to get used to their prosthetic hand, per Puffy’s request.    

    However, this proved to be difficult because the various explosions in Exile had eventually tore up the palms of his hands enough that they held a constant, involuntary tremble from nerve damage.

  Tommy, being the workaholic they were, would frequently crochet or knit well past the point of their fingers aching.

—Their own hygiene has never been much of a priority for Tommy, and by extension, neither were showers.

   Not only did they frequently forget, because they didn't consider it important enough to remember, but they also found it unbelievably inconvenient, both time wise and because of his scars. Tommy was covered head-to-toe in scars of various types and origins, to the point that they couldn't stand looking at himself even in mirrors, whether it was because they could no longer recognize themself, or because the scars only provided reminders. Most of the scars were so sensitive that even running water over them caused unbearable pain, especially the permanently cold water from their dirt hut. 

    As a solution, Tubbo and Ranboo would check on Tommy every few days to see if they had taken a shower—as well as his well being, but he didn't need to know that—and if he hadn't, they would have the younger come over and gently pressure him into taking a shower on low pressure with the lights off.

—The Godling of Mischief, who preferred the chosen name of ‘Drista’, was a lesser known Godling only ever found in the form of a small pixie, dressed in red, white, and black jester attire with star detailing. 

    Drista resembled a thorn covered doll carved from twisting wood,  with a large wind-up key in her middle back, and doll-like joints that would emit an eerie clicking sound with every jittery motion; her  movements were erratic and twitchy, as if controlled by some unseen force. She has a humanoid figure with digitigrade legs, a second set of arms, eight insectoid wings, and a grotesque face too hard to describe; Drista would often don a porcelain mask that covers her entire face, designed to look like an entirely different face with an glaring expression, painted with stereotypical clown makeup. (<- not too happy with this because the inspiration behind the face is a VERY difficult to explain mask i found on pinterest)

—As an effect of having to take care of Wilbur most of their life, Tommy had grown quite a skill in cooking, enough that they were considered the second best chef on the server, right behind Technoblade's potato dishes.

    Tommy would occasionally even practice baking as well, though, they weren’t as good at it as they were with cooking. Because of this, Tubbo and Ranboo—who both lack the ability of cooking quality food despite both being adults, tax-payers, and parents—would always rely on him to cook the important food when an occasion occurs.

—At some point in late Exile, Dream had taken to carving a crude and messy Glasgow grin into Tommy’s face as a grotesque replica of the mask the older is known so well to wear. There wasn’t much to do about it when it was still healing and delicate enough for the stitches to pop open at even the slightest movement, but as soon as it had completely healed—which was well into his stay with Technoblade—Tommy subconsciously started a habit of scratching it as a way to fidget. Over time it got bad enough that they had managed to scratch a gaping hole through their right cheek, leaving their teeth visible. (<- i totally did made this on the spot for this very post and it needs to be re-done but i have no clue how lolol)

—After Wilbur’s death, Tommy took ownership of his trench coat and adamantly refused to alter the dimensions of it to better fit them.

—Tommy had lingering slight animalistic body language from when he was raised from the age of four to eight by packs of wolves. (<- i wish i could elaborate but I DON'T KNOW HOOOWWWWAUH)

By sending this you single-handedly brought back my will and motivation to write so i thank you again !!

also its crazy how much i think about ctommy and only ctommy

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

|•♡•♡{Welcome pick your man!}♡•♡•|

|•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡{Number 17}♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•|

Sugar sickness

{♡} requested

- Short story of Boo, wanting to match Alphonse's freak, got sick after eating too much candy. Now Alphonse is helping them recover from it.

Bubble gum couple

{♡} requested

- Story where Boo dyes their hair the same as Alphonse as a surprise

Their a little confused, but they got spirit

{♡} requested

- HC's of Alphonse with a listener that's 'dumb as a brick

Art idea

{♡} personal

- draw this mf as a pastel clown

Incorrect Quotes:

Oh ima bout to make a name for ma self

I'll be your stress outlet, Sugar.

{♡} requested

- Seth get's bend over the desk and fucked w a dildo, NSFW

Outfits

{♡} requested

- Outfits I picked for him

YIPPEE MY PARTNER'S BACK!!

{♡} requested

- Blurb of Casper coming back home form being abroad for their job!!

Look at this cool thing I made.

{♡} requested

- HC's for Charlie with a potter reader!

Teenage dirt bags!

{♡} requested

- Short story where teenage Casper protects Charlie from bullies.

Cheese

{♡} ask

- the cheese tax the cheese tax

YESSIRR

{♡} ask

- Pussy drunk truther fr

Incorrect Quotes:

About to fall off

Finn outfit

{♡} personal

- pretty dresses!!

Song

{♡} personal

- Oh Mary contrary how does your garden grow

Incorrect Quotes:

What the fuck.

Draw me like one of your french girls!

{♡} requested

- HC's/short story of Faust with a artist Star who asks him to pose for drawings.

Discord

{♡} personal

- lol discord couple

Incorrect Quotes

Valley girl stereotype!

Ironic innit?

lock in chat.

I know this pretty rave girl-

{♡} requested

- Blurb of Auron finding out Rook was a scene kid

If you hurt my fucking child, so HELP me.

{♡} requested

- Story of Auron meeting Rook's father. But he knows the 'side job' Auron has, also he was in a gang so uh Auron gets threatened :D

Got caught red handed!

{♡} requested

- Short story of Camp Counselor AU Rook pranking Auron with a hand print on his butt.

A bit of brat taming.

{♡} requested

- NSFW short story where Auron deals with a bratty Rook.

Kitty kitty

{♡} ask

- Cute idea for Rook to turn into a cat

Staring contest

{♡} ask

- Damn him being sexy

Am I a bad person?

{♡} personal

- I wonder if my younger self would like me.

Incorrect Quotes:

What'cha gonna do about champ?

Just Dance!

{♡} ask

- ina minute ima need a sentimental man or woman to pump me up!!

Doordash

{♡} personal

- He'd so loved it

Incorrect Quotes:

....Crack?

Jack with a selective mutism Reader

{♡} requested

- HC's! Ngl loved doing this one bc Jack is so supportive

Wow your so COOL!!

{♡} requested

- HC's for Jack with a sporty Reader!

My first kiss went a lil like this!

{♡} requested

- Short story where Jack and Buddy share their first kiss!

Nails

{♡} personal

- short ocean themed nails for him bc why not

Bittersweet College Au

{♡} requested

- HC's if they were in college (ngl might do pt2)

I got that dog in me! (It's a wolf)

{♡} requested

- Bittersweet boys with a werewolf sugarboo (lowkey so silly)

Were just a call away.

{♡} requested

- Short story of Sugarboo moving and calling the boys the first night after moving away, crying.

A quiet voice chooses not be be heard

{♡} requested

- HC's of Seth and Faust with a listener that has selective mutism. (I think that would count as it?)

A child of divorce (not really)

{♡} requested

- silly blurb of Al and Boo fighting over custody of Seth.

And here we are burning out.

{♡} requested

- HC's of Finn, Auron and Faust's listener dealing with burnout.

Happy birthday, love!

{♡} requested

- HC's with Alphonse, Auron, Faust and Finn celebrating your birthday with you! (Also this is a bday gift to my mootie)

Damn, that's a expensive fur suit

{♡} requested

- HC's of Charlie, Auron, Seth and Alphonse who's listener has/wears a fursuit

A pair of good boys.

{♡} requested

- HC's with bittersweet boys reaction to listener calling them good boys

Crazy shit, new day

{♡} requested

- HC's with Faust, Jack and Finn with a listener who's like Felix Argyle (Re:Zero)

Tis the season, for the sickness

{♡} requested

- Bittersweet trio headcanons with a sick Sugarboo

DIY salon in the bathroom.

{♡} requested

- Short story of Seth and Alphonse helping Sugarboo redye their hair :D

Middle Ground as Camp Counselor's

{♡} requested

- HC's with middle ground for my mootie :D

This was is the greatest show!

{♡} requested

- Wasn't really a request but wanted to write it as such!! Alphonse, Seth, Finn and Jack with a ex trapeze/acrobat reader!

Don't touch me.

{♡} requested

- HC's with Jack and Charlie with a listener who hates being touched.

Baddie's love anime

{♡} requested

- HC's for Faust, Auron, Jack and Finn with a baddie reader who watches anime

He who shouldn't be named

{♡} requested

- Short story of Al and Seth accidentally running into Boo's ex

YV boy's but as Sans

{♡} ask

- From moot who is really good at thinking about things

Gravity Falls Au

{♡} ask

- Honestly need to write more of these.

YV x lgts Au from moot

{♡} ask

- Au my moot was telling me about! (Check their blog out for more cool au's!!)

Monster prom

{♡} ask

- Was askled who I think the boys would romance and play as!!

Southern Stars: A not so great start.

{♡} personal

- The beginning of Southern Stars (might write more idk)

The urge to learn how to animate

{♡} personal

- Plz this trend would work so well for the boys </3

Cute pose

{♡} personal

- Art idea bc this would fit them

Hatsune Miku

{♡} personal

- The boy's Miku sona's :D

Pixie hallow fairy types

{♡} personal

- Silly idea bc of a quote I wanted to do w Faust

Tarot Cards

{♡} personal

- Just idea that came up all of a sudden

What dog's would they have?

{♡} personal

- Tell me what y'all

Charms I made :D

{♡} personal

- Love crafting things

My bracelet box!!

{♡} personal

- Decorating a box I had all my bracelet things in!!

Yuurivoice Twitter PT46 PT47 PT48 PT49 PT50 PT51 PT52 PT53

Incorrect Quotes:

WALK IT OFF

Cheap kazoo

[bleue-flora]

The kids all getting scattered when they arrived into the dsmp so C!Dream is rushing to collect them all and bring them to the arctic by following the pings of unknown player around the world

(P!Dream loves going to get the kids. C!Dream runs so so so fast he feels like he's flying when he carries him on his back and then they have a cool super hero moment when they find whoever they were hunting for :D)

He gets most of them but since the kids spawned neat their counterparts the rest of the server arranges a quick emergency meeting at the community house to figure out wtf and also where the rest of the kids they didn't find are

(C!Dream goes and takes only P!Dream because he refuses to stay behind but also makes a very good point that the other kids will trust C!Dream a lot more if he's with him. P!Punz and P!Philza are left in change, much to the offense of C!Philza)

Anyway. C!Dream just standing ominously in the corner of the room with P!Dream hidden under his cape and all the kids do the typical "Ooohhhh! Ominous figure!! Cool!!!" And immediately want to talk to him, specially since he looks like P!Dream (extra happy surprise when P!Dream does peek out of the cape) and C!Dream seems to be the only adult who is not weirdly tense (conceal, dont feel, don't let them know /ref)

C!Tommy's great visible offense that little him think C!Dream is cooler

Also I think you got me sick but it mutated in my head and I gave it back to you

Idk waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa *is sent flying like team rocket*

So like while c!Techno, c!Phil, p!Phil (16), p!Wilbur (13) and the other 13 and older kids (not fully decided on who) work on healing c!Dream while p!Dream keeps are eye on everyone else in c!Philza's house in the meantime. p!Tommy, p!Quackity, and p!Sapnap get bored playing hide and seek in the old man's house and start suggesting they go out and explore. They are so excited about the snow and what the Big Innit Hotel, Kinoko kingdom and Las Nevadas look like. p!Dream says no and that it's a bad idea, with p!Sam listing out all the things that could go wrong and dangers. They seem to drop it but in the next round instead of hiding they sneak out while p!Dream is counting, bringing p!Karl and p!Tubbo with them and p!Ranboo joins last minute too, not wanting to be left out, pulling p!Techno along too. After p!Dream has officially searched everywhere (the kids do not have a way to see the achievements going off), he determines that they must have run off anyways. On one hand he wants to go after them, p!Sam even offers to watch them, but on the other he needs to watch the kids who stayed, who beg him to stay because they are scared (mostly the little ones). Some of them feel annoyed that the others are having all the fun and sneak out when p!Dream isn't looking.

Scared to disturb, anger or annoy the adults while they are upset and doing secret things or whatever, p!Dream doesn't inform them that he lost half of the kids. He just tries to keep everyone left safe and entertained, resigned to the fact that when the adults do find out, he's in for it. p!Punz and p!Sam try to convince p!Dream that he won't be alone and they'll be his shield if then need to, p!Dream smiles but insists that it's his fault and makes them pinky promise to hide and keep the others safe.

When the adults finally let them back in the cabin to meet c!Dream and they find out about the missing kids, c!Dream is immediately outraged - "Wait, What?! You left a bunch of kids alone in the cabin with no one watching them?! What the hell is wrong with you?!" - but to p!Dream's utmost surprise it's not directed at him but at c!Techno and c!Phil, who clench their jaws and swallow their excuse of - 'you were kinda bleeding out, it was all hands on deck. We didn't have time to find a proper babysitter. Sorry for saving your life I guess...'

After getting filled in on the kiddo situation, c!Dream imediately gears up to go after the kids, to c!Phil and c!Techno's dismay, who highlight that c!Dream is enemy number one and everyone is currently trying to kill him. p!Sam points out that everyone trusts p!Dream so he should be the one to go, to which the adults are like well not on your own. p!Dream, a little scared of p!Techno and p!Phil, insists that he'll only go with c!Dream. c!Dream smirks at the kid in approval and tells c!Techno and c!Phil to call a meeting at the community house to inform the others on the kids situation, (especially since as they pointed out, no one's gonna listen to c!Dream they'll just show up to kill him) specifically the missing kids. (c!Dream's not saying the members are gonna stab the kids running around but.... he also wouldn't put it past them. Better safe than sorry and maybe some of them already know where the kids are).

Things follow as you said - p!Dream has his superhero moment, and they find a fair amount of kids before the meeting. p!Punz at first insists on going with the Dreams to search but p!Dream insists he needs someone he trusts to watch over everyone while he's gone, so he stays with p!Phil to watch over them, while everyone is gone p!Wilbur of course starts a snowball fight and all the kids safe in the artic break out into a cold and snowy war. p!Sam makes all that come inside after hot chocolate to warm them up. :)

The found kids end up brought to the meeting for safe keeping when everyone requests c!Dream show up to give them answers instead of getting everyone back to the cabin. The kids brought by some of the other members who found them wandering around love ominous c!Dream standing in the corner with his side kick under his cape lol. ;) Members like c!Puffy are kinda hurt that the kids don't gravitate towards her. c!Tommy brings in little p!Tubbo he found lost on the prime path somehow separated from the others, and upon seeing c!Dream in the room, he tries to insist that p!Tubbo stand behind him and that he'll protect him, but to c!Tommy's utter horror and offense, immediately p!Tubbo runs and hugs c!Dream, using the cape to dry his tears...

[johnlennon-as-a-tv-chef]

Can you please write about Milex getting together? Set in "One for the Road" song - where Alex in at Miles' having too much to drink, sitting on the floor tec. He then needs to be sick and Miles is helping him but he has realized that he is getting hard from feeling Miles over him holding his hair (humbug one). He then is trying to make himself sick again (putting fingers down his throat) and thinking it is Miles doing to him... Then everyone leaves and Alex decides to make the move...

Okay anon, this one took me a few days to write because I wasn't sure how to incorporate all the elements you requests in one piece. It also turned out a little longer than a drabble, but I hope you enjoy it.

Tw: puking, self-induced puking (not graphic), mention of sexual thoughts (not too graphic).

_____________________________________________

"A'right Al. You rockstar, you. Congrats on going platinum." Miles ruffles Alex's hair like he’s talking to a child. He knows Miles is being facetious but his words are laced with sincerity and his eyes are glinting with warmth, and Alex can’t help but smile.

Instead of acknowledging the greeting, though, Alex huffs and smooths his hair down. He's never had hair this long before, and as much as he loves it, he's still just getting the hang of handling it.

"Took you long enough to get here," he says moving his fringe out of his eyes with his index finger.

It's Humbug’s success party and Alex is flying high from praise, the sales, the numbers on the charts, and some blue pill someone handed him a while ago. He reckons he's earned it. This album had been a gamble. They had completely changed their sound. Initially, they even got some bad reviews, something they hadn't ever gotten before and the self-doubt had begun to set in. But the gamble had ultimately paid off, and this album could join their older ones on the proverbial mantle.

It's their success party so of course they went a bit too hard, and of course, they stretched it longer than they should have. When they pretty much get kicked out of the venue, Miles offers up his place for an ‘after-party’.

Which is how Alex ends up on the Scouser’s bathroom floor with his palms pressed against the cool tiles watching Miles through a veil of smoke - a calming respite from the cacophony outside.

"It's really that simple Al. Imagine if you put Bowie in a Bond film. It's like subverting the genre innit. People think they want what they're expecting, that they want predictability, but really it's the unexpected within the expected that really gets you going. But it has to be wrapped carefully in the expected for it to have maximum impact. D'ya know what I mean?."

Alex is only half listening, and truth be told, he has no idea what Miles is talking about. But he closes his eyes and smiles, nodding slowly because Miles's voice and the way it wraps around the words feels fuzzy and he just wants Miles to keep talking.

He feels a warmth rising in his stomach. Then it's not just warmth, he realises too late, but dinner and the nacho chips he'd swiped off Jamie a few minutes ago and the 5 taquila shots and how-many-ever other drinks he had downed through the night.

"Fuck, Al you okay?" Miles jumps off the toilet seat and lifts the lid just in time for Alex to grab the toilet bowl and start retching.

Miles moves behind him and holds Alex’s hair back as he throws up. All the while whispering soft words of encouragement. “That's it. Let it all out.” “You're alright.” “I got you.”

Miles is pulling his hair back, and he's tracing his fingers along Alex's forehead and ears and the nape of his neck trying to hold back the wisps of hair that find their way out of his grasp, and Alex’s still-too-drunk mind thinks, ‘I don't ever want this to end’.

Considering how plastered he is, he didn't think he was physically capable of getting hard, but well, Alex supposes he wasn't much if he didn’t exceed expectations. He doesn't think Miles realises what he's doing, or the effect he's having on Alex, because now he's patting his back with one hand while the other holds up his hair.

Alex isn’t completely oblivious. Some part of his brain has always been aware that he’s attracted to Miles - the way he plays his guitar, the way he says Alex's name, the way he makes Alex laugh, how he never makes him feel stupid even when he talks in tongues and stumbling over his words, and how he seems to have an eerie ability to read his mind.

Then there’s also Miles' eyes like coffee, warm and dark and always sparkling with mirth. His hair, soft and a little frizzy, that he insists on styling in a way that falls over his eyes simply because it kind of makes him resemble a couple of the Beatles put together. His nose, and the perfect bridge of it. Alex loves Miles' nose. He wonders how it would feel brushing against his neck, his cheek, his chest, his...Right, so Alex knows Miles is fit and that he's attracted to him. He just makes it a point to never look that realization in the eyes. He keeps these thoughts locked up and buried under layers of banter, and laughter.

But he's not as sharp right now and the insolent thoughts aren’t staying down.

He doesn't know how long it's been but he's gagging long after he's done puking, just dry heaving and spitting, trying to get Miles to continue doing what he’s doing for just a bit longer.

“You good?” Miles rubs soothing circles into Alex's back, and he just wants to sink into it. He wants to guide Miles' hand lower, to the front, have him stroke him, jerk him off. Alex is really high. The guards are out of duty and the thoughts are being rebellious, trashing the place up there and there's not much he can do to discipline them right now.

Thankfully, Miles leaves Alex to find water, with a "Hang tight, Al. I'll be right back”, giving him some moments of respite to collect his wits. He sits there for a few seconds willing his gut and his mind to settle. Then, out of boredom than anything else, he gets up on his feet, leans against the sink and looks at himself in the mirror. The alcohol and pill coursing in his veins liquify his reflection, making it swim out of shape. He stares into his own eyes. He stares and stares until they start morphing into another pair of hooded brown eyes. His lips, his hair, his nose. Alex is stunned but he can't look away. Instead, he lets his impulses have their way once more. Holding eye contact with himself, Alex sticks two fingers into his mouth, pretending it was Miles' long fingers that have often mesmerised Alex by. He pictures how they wrap around his guitar neck, and expertly dance on the strings, and how they might feel in his mouth. He gives his fingers an experimental lick before closing his eyes and sucking on them. And then he's pushing deeper and deeper until he’s gagging, spit pooling on the corners of his mouth. He has nothing left in his stomach to throw up so when Miles returns he finds Alex dry heaving into the sink.

“Al, you okay? Did you get sick again?”

Miles is back with some water and, it would seem, a stick of gum. “Here chew on this, you'll feel better." He says. What a beautiful thoughtful idiot. Alex just wants to jump him.

It's an hour later. Alex is feeling more sober but just so. If he squints he can see the first signs of dawn making an appearance. He’s standing on Miles’ little balcony smoking what he hopes to be his last cigarette of the night when Miles comes out and leans against the railing next to him.

"Whatcha doing out here?"

"Just tired."

It's a bit chilly, and he can see Miles shiver slightly.

“Yeah, I'm knackered too. Want me to tell everyone to fuck off?" Miles looks up into his eyes.

“Yeah.”

He doesn’t follow Miles in, instead, he waits on the balcony till he hears the last of the ‘byes’ and ‘see yous’. Alex should probably offer to leave too but he figures if Miles wants him out, he would tell him so.

When he stubs the butt of his second cigarette and walks in, Miles is pouring the last of an almost empty bottle of vodka into a couple of glasses. "What's one more eh?"

Alex shakes his head and walks over to Miles’ record player and puts on the first record he can find lying next to the turntable.

It's Leonard Cohen. Of course, it is. Miles's latest obsession. They'd spent hours dissecting his music, his style, and his lyrics just the other day.

Alex thinks he's definately still drunk because nothing else can explain why he walks towards Miles and extends his hand.

He hopes Miles too is drunk enough to not be weirded out by the request.

But, here's the thing about Miles. Miles is never embarrassed and Miles is never ashamed. So he just smiles that classic Miles all-teeth-and-gums smile and lays his hand in Alex's. He grips Alex's hand and pulls himself closer.

Before he can fully comprehend what’s happening, they’re dancing. Miles is swaying from side to side and he’s taking Alex with him. Alex can’t focus on much apart from the feel of Miles' warm hand pressed against his back.

"Is this weird for you?" blurts out because he needs to know. He needs to know how Miles feels about dancing with a bloke, dancing with him. Its different joking around with friends and threatening to take the joke too far in front of others, and totally different when they're alone in a dark room, swaying to a ballad at 4 in the morning. He needs to know whether to keep at it or to make a run for it, and pretend he doesn't remember anything, blaming it all on the alcohol tomorrow.

"No, is it for you?"

Alex lays his head on Miles's shoulder in response and sighs “no".

It feels like it's a long time coming and it still takes Alex by surprise. It takes him by surprise even though he is the one that leans in and kisses Miles. Sure he's thought about doing it before, but he'd always looked at it as one of those intrusive thoughts, like when you think about jumping in front of incoming traffic or breaking into a dance during a meeting.

All he knows is that in that moment, with his head resting against Miles' shoulder, Miles' soft breath tickling his ear, and Leonard Cohen crooning in the background, all he could do is lean in and take more.

His second surprise is that Miles doesn’t push him away, doesn’t even look at him with confusion. Or worse, disgust. No, Miles just let's Alex pull him by the front of his jacket, and tightens his grip around Alex's waist ever so slightly.

It's a pretty chaste kiss as far as kisses go. It's quick and it's deliberate, like a handshake, Alex thinks to his own amusement. But he's never felt like going in for seconds with a handshake before.

“This - ” Alex says, pulling his face away just enough so that his eyes can focus on Miles. His breathing is laboured. He feels a bit lightheaded, and doesn’t actually know what he wants to say.

His tongue darts out to lick his lips that tingle with the faint taste of Miles.

Miles, on the other hand looks dazed as he stares back at Alex. He reaches out, places his palm gently against Alex' jaw and strokes his bottom lip with his thumb.

Even though they had always been comfortable with each other, perhaps a bit more than normal, now that he thinks of it, this feels strange, to be touched by Miles like this. But something about the fact that it is shrouded by the darkness of night and the faint moonlight seeping in from the balcony door he's left open, makes it feel okay.

“Yeah,” Miles breathes out in reply to Alex's non-sentence.

It doesn’t actually clarify anything, but Alex can’t help breaking out in a smile because it’s enough to silence the little voices of worry buzzing in the back of his mind.

“I've wondered what this would feel like ” Alex confesses, his gaze flicking from Miles' eyes to his mouth. To the lips that Alex now knows exactly how they feel pressed against his and what they taste like. After all these years.

“Me too,” Miles rushes out, the corners of his mouth lifting up.

Alex doesn't have enough time to process Miles' confession because then Miles is surging forward and catching Alex's lips again and that’s all he can focus on right now.

He feels like he's being drawn deeper and deeper into Miles, and like if he just let's himself go, he'll never be able to find his way out. He pushes Miles gently, breaking their kiss for a second time.

Miles doesn't look offended. Instead, he's breathing heavily, and fighting a smile. Maybe he feels it too.

"I'm glad we're on the same page then," Alex says once again leaning down to rest his head on Miles' shoulder, holding him just a bit tighter, surer, as they sway to Cohen singing about dancing to the end of love.

[freeuselandonorris]

I get what you're saying about the nortrell thing, Max always being in the background of Lando. But I think the beautiful thing about Lando pov nortrell is that Lando can be so painfully unaware of these things, like how this dynamic is affecting max. Lando things max is so cool and hot and Max doesn't directly say anything to refute that so what do you mean he gets insecure? Sure he gets hate from the internet sometimes but like not as bad as Lando does so it's all good, Max always tells him not to look anyway. It's all chill that max works for quadrant that's like half the reason he made it, it was a nice thing to do for max and Max would've done the same for him probably.

I also think their self loathing is so similar yet so different. Lando really hasn't ever had to experience not being hot enough or not being good enough, cause even if he's felt like it, he never really was. Max did actually give up racing, which is a difference Lando could easily be blind to (god bless but he does seem self-centered, very much empathy through trying to relate).

The of course there's always the wonderful Max trying to play it cool because working for Lando and travelling around the world for him and being famous because of him AND being in love with him is just too much, too embarrassing, but he's hiding it all so well cause he can be hard to read and overcompensates by being meaner than usual so Lando truly has no idea and is all like "I have everything I wished for by Max will never love me back it's all for naught:((((((". Which can be really fun through a Lando pov.

mmm yeah i’m not saying lando pov nortrell is like bad or invalid or anything, just doesn’t hit for me in a way that makes me want to write it!

i think in a lot of ways lando’s tendency towards (and i say this with love lmao) selfishness and obliviousness feels more interesting to write from the opposing pov, because if he’s not aware of it then i can’t dig into that juicy inner monologue, it’s just a lot of him misinterpreting other people’s reactions and then the payoff of the realisation at the end. which is not a bad thing to write but i kinda got that sort of character arc out of my system with mondayverse lmao.

like i said, might be interesting to write at some point just for curiosity’s sake — actually i just remembered i kind of did when i did the pov flip scene from hypnoverse, although that was mostly solo lando — but yeah idk, just doesn’t grab me 🤷 personal preference innit!

[puellafuriadarkmagica]

So it's been a week, exactly as promised. It's just that it's also been some other weeks on top of that. I'll explain why at the end of this post, what I plan on doing about it, generally where my efforts have been lately, and how YOU (yes YOU!) can get involved.

Chapter 5: The Best Venue in this Small, Pathetic Town

From The Chats - Keep The Grubs Out. I mentioned before that my brother got me into The Chats. They're a world away from the kind of music I'm normally into, but they happen to be really fucking funny. That's generally enough for me to make an exception. Check out the music video to their big hit Smoko and try your damnedest to convince me this isn't one of the greatest music videos ever made.

"Oh, Kimmie, me 'n' Kel had the time of our lives. We had twenny-four hour room cervix, eggs derelict for breakfast..." the television blared feebly through its blown-out stereo system.

I've said it before but one of my favourite differences between our world and that of PFDM is that somehow the existence of magical girls has resulted in Kath and Kim still being on the air in 2009.

Fuck, I miss Kath and Kim.

"You, and me, we have an opportunity / And we, can make it something really good…" Zoey hummed from somewhere in the kitchen.

I also remember mentioning that this passage is included to remind people that despite her generally matronly(??) role to the rest of the cast of Part 1, Zoey's only in her mid-twenties. Bit sad, innit?

Thunk. A metal rail, roughly forty centimetres long, sailed neatly past Marie's head, drove itself clean through the skull of the Incubator perched on her shoulder, and dug itself into an oblique resting place in the pavement behind her.

Oh my God.

Oh my God!

They killed Kyubey??

"Introductions aside, have you run this past Lara yet?" "The thing is I think I've got to… warm her up to the idea first?" Danika smirked. "You can say she's too stubborn. It's not a crime, you know." "She's not as bad as you guys say she is, you know!" "Too right!" Hope leaned forward and coughed into a fist. "See, she's actually worse."

She's actually soooo cool and nice with it.

Hold on.

When did "such-and-so with it" re-enter common parlance? I remember it being a pretty ubiquitous way to suffix an adjective back in the late 2000's, and then it disappeared. And now it's back? Where did it go…

"Cool, cool. Hey, would you mind if I just confer with my friends about some stuff? I'm pretty new to what I do, and if we brought you on board that'd be a pretty major undertaking for both of us." "It's okay," Phoebe protested. "I can train her!" Hope shrugged. "Yeah, that's fair. Now it'll be a major undertaking for three of us."

Taking so long to reread this stuff presents the side-effect that I do find myself laughing at my old jokes that I'd forgotten I'd written.

Phoebe shot to her feet and clutched her skull (still contained within the flesh of her head, of course. Only one person with even the most tangential relationship to her life is intense enough to do otherwise). "I can't deal with you people! I can't… I'm… I need some air."

What?

Holy hell, what?

There's no way I foreshadowed Alex burning off her flesh this far in advance. Are you serious?

We've only just recently learned that she will be doing that, what, 45 chapters later? 46?

Hope's jeans pocket blared a harsh, percussive synth monotone. She noticeably flinched before practically ripping her phone out of her pocket and putting it to her ear.

Back when I wrote this, I said it was probably The Presets - My People. More recently I've locked that in. I was going to write that it's one of the few radio hits that's actually good, but then I realised my vision was completely clouded by nostalgia when I began to pen that. The past half-decade or so has been kind of nuts for mainstream pop. Charli XCX has got a couple tracks joint-produced by AG Cook and Hudson Mohawke on her new album, for crying out loud. Death's Dynamic Shroud is getting mentioned on the same electronic pop lists as fucking Beyoncé. Porter Robinson's… well, he's Porter Robinson. How did we get it so good? Should I be thanking Missy Elliot? Daft Punk? Dylan Brady?

Wait. I'm supposed to be talking about PFDM.

"Sure thing." Marie responded with a thumbs-up goodbye, like some kind of absolute mutant.

Not long after I wrote this passage, I did actually give someone a thumbs-up goodbye. Mind you, I was having an absolutely shit day and was pretty distracted, but I've still gotta live that down, on the inside.

"I'll get it," Hope announced. She opened the front door, saw who was behind it, and closed it again. Lara jammed her foot in the door before it could close. "Evening, Fearnley," she cooed. "Would you mind if I popped in for a chat?" "If I said no…" "I'd find other, less courteous ways to open this door, don't you worry."

I've barely started watching Utena, but she's Nanami, isn't she? She's totally Nanami.

"Shame. What's say you and I underthrow Deckard and find a new girl ourselves instead?" "Under… throw?" "It's like overthrow, but she's our inferior. She's really, really inferior, actually. You know how she spends her time? Going on witch hunts with this new girl just for kicks. I hear Woodward - not the dead one, of course - is third-wheeling whatever it is those two have got going on now."

"Underthrow" is one of my favourite Lara-isms, but it doesn't hold a candle to…

"Well then, why would I do that?" She smirked. "Face it, Fearnley. If I needed to psychologically outplay you, I wouldn't resort to spreading rumours. I've got a rapper wit." "You mean a rapier." "A what?" "She said rapier," Zoey huffed. "That's the expression. Rapier wit." "What, like a sword? That's stupid. The only thing a sword ever thinks to do is cut something, and that's only because somebody else tells it to. A rapper, on the other hand-"

"Rapper wit" is potentially my favourite malapropism of all time, and I came up with it. Thanks, me! Why, you're very welcome.

The Citadel, like all things, is metaeclyptic with an infinity of other things, places, times. One of these things happens to be a lighthouse on the west coast of Ireland, operated by a young man named Douglas Murphy. Though neither of them knew it, at the exact moment Audrey Wong lost her blue socks, he found a pair of green socks he had lost four months ago. The strangest part of all this, he would remark if he understood his circumstances to any meaningful degree, is that his role as a textbook example of metaeclypticism is, in fact, the only meaningful reason for his existence at all. The speaker god has, as it happens, written a proverb pertaining to this feeling of existential ennui, which goes as follows. From here until the end of the last chapter. It also goes as precedes, until the beginning of the first. Due to the impracticality with which one might quote it, it is considered a very unpopular proverb.

This is one of the passages which I think best encapsulates the style of PFDM, and hopefully my writing on the whole. It's definitely one of those key early moments where I Locked The Fuck In.

Well, that was a pretty short chapter, all things considered. I forgot how little time I actually need to write one of these. Maybe I should try for one a week, but given my track record regarding things taking a week, I don't think I can promise anything.

So what happened?

Life got busy again. I've got a job now, which does pretty much drain the life out of me. But it also gives my time some long-needed damn structure, so three cheers. Also, I've gotten a little carried away on an original webfic I conceived of last year and have been tinkering away at the planning stages of ever since. Actually, let's talk about that. And let's call it Project Anubis for short for now, in a pointless attempt to hide its true name - an aspect of the webfic I'm still uncertain about. It does have a name, and I am sort of leaning in-for-a-penny on that, but for now it's Project Anubis.

Sounds cool. What's Project Anubis?

Nothing!!! It doesn't exist yet, and won't for a serious while! Don't rush me here, okay?!?!

Actually, I'm going to talk about it here with you guys because there's like half a dozen of you maximum and I don't want to talk about this publicly yet. You won't see this on my main Tumblr. Anyone who reads that and doesn't read this, who I want to have see this announcement, already knows what this project is, and, in fact, what it's called. I mention it now, because I'm trying to open the doors to my friends who I know would be available for this, and frankly if you've spent the past… I don't even want to think about how long, conversing with my borderline manic ramblings in the comments section of my own anime fanfiction, well, are we not then friends?

Okay, but really, what is it?

Not too thematically dissimilar from a lot of the themes I've been spinning in PFDM. If you liked the oddball humour, the overly-researched science fiction, and maybe the weird underlying philosophical thriller, you probably will like this. If you were only into PFDM for the sprawling cosmology, the fight scenes, and the fact that it's Madoka Magica, you're gonna outright detest it. It will not be for you. Of course it wouldn't be. It's for me.

So what do you want from me?

I'm glad youu asked, line of bold text I put before this paragraph! Basically, I want anyone who knows a damn about more or less anything to give me a holler. I've got a lot of research to do for this, and anyone who can point me in the right direction would be a massive help. If you know anything about any of the following:

Speculative biology

Computer science

Feng shui

Biosemiotics

Astronomy

Gestalt psychology

Puzzle design

Card game design

Printing

Logograms

Conlang development

Chances are I'm gonna be coming to you for a lot of help. If this has legs, I might start hiring people to help me make it, too. If not on a stable income I can bankroll a team on, then at least on commission. If you're a visual artist who can illustrate things other than people with weirdly specific demands regarding colour palette and image composition, you're a writer and you feel like you can jive with my style (the more naturalistic, less-uranium-dense parts, at least, because this will not be the fuckin' slog that PFDM deliberately makes itself sometimes), or an actor - even if just for voice or photos - let me know that too. But don't expect anything to come of it, and definitely don't expect anything to come of it any time soon. Right now, I'm just trying to keep track of who I know who has X field of knowledge or Y specific skill. Gimme your email or your Discord or something, or just let me know if I can DM you here on Tumblr.

Why "Anubis"?

I had this idea for a gag in something where the main character dies and meets Anubis, who would be depicted entirely with photos of James Earl Jones. Anubis would then explain that everyone has a celebrity lookalike, and the gods themselves aren't excepted from this. Anubis just happens to bear a striking resemblance to James Earl Jones. I don't think this joke is going to be in anything, but I've been thinking about Anubis ever since.

What does Project Anubis mean for Puella Furia Dark Magica?

I dunno dude!!! I just work here!!! Maybe nothing? Maybe a hell of a whole lot? Maybe PFDM gets delayed for YEARS! Maybe the remaining chapters all mysteriously appear online tomorrow! I really don't know! I've just had a hell of a good idea and now I have to make it. I go crazy if I don't. I go. Crazy. If. I Don't!

Anyway see you all maybe next week I don't know? Bye

[tomatosoupgroup]

screenshot saturday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

so uhh

this'll be a short one

sorryyyyyyy

I DO HAVE STUFF FOR YOU THOUGH

for example....

you might be wondering what the hell this is

this is a background for the visual novel aspect of the game!

well, an unfinished one.

i based it off this screenshot i took off google maps!

some of the things i need to add are

well

pretty much everything lol

but let's be more specific:

you see how in mine, all the textures seem flat, while in the real photo, the textures are defined?

bit funky innit

the thing is uh. i have no idea how to add texture like this in pixel art.

ive tried many times and it just looks really bad lmao

so i've done some research, and i think what i'm looking for are called "clusters"

never heard of those before

also whenever i look up a tutorial for drawing them they just basically say "just draw these funny shapes!" and i'm like "okay but wHERE. YOU CANNOT JUST TELL ME TO DO THING. I NEED CONTEXT FOR THING. OOGA BOOGA BANG ROCK WITH STICK"

completely unrelated but i've noticed that whenever i get two ads on youtube, i can't skip them both at once

like when i press the skip ad button, it just goes to the next ad

don't know if this is only happening to me but it is REALLY annoying

fuck you youtube

i suppose i should dedicate the end of my post to the project itself.

ANOTHER QNA!

Q: Will you charge money for the game?

A: Complicated question.

this game is the epitome of a passion project in my eyes. it is a story i am telling not for any of my own personal gain, but simply because i feel like it is a story that needs to be told.

but enough of all this sappy shit, i'll just explain it simply:

when this game eventually comes out, i will either:

a: open the game up to donations (like the "name your price" thing), the majority of which will go to charity and anyone who helps on the project or

b: make the game 100% free.

Q: Do you accept fanart of the characters?

A: UH

YEAH????

if you draw my characters i will literally go bonkers /pos style

i unfortunately don't have an official ref sheet for any of them yet, but i'll be able to provide substitutes if asked

i think it would be cool to feature some of the fanart in the credits! (with permission from the artists, of course!) but that may take up too much space so i'll have to think it over.

tldr i fucking love fanart

Q: What about NSFW?

A: ...

Okay.

Listen.

I HIGHLY advise against it. I'm a minor and that's just like. weird.

Even after I turn 18, it'll still be weird because they were characters I first drew up when I was 16.

but at the same time, i accept that this is the internet, and that some gooner supremo will eventually stumble across this game :/

so i just have one definitive request.

PLEASE

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

DO NOT INCLUDE CHARACTERS WHO ARE UNDER 18

for example:

You may remember Silhouette.

they are CANONICALLY 13.

so like. keep them out of it.

i don't care if they're "just a character". you could say my fist is "just a body part" right before i bash your face in

if you want, i can provide the ages for any character you ask. i have a whole spreadsheet!

so please.

anyways that's gonna do it for today

to everybody who isn't youtube: i love you and thank you for being here

i will see you next week!

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

watching a video about the origins of bad apple and it’s incredibly fascinating! i didn’t know it basically started off as a whole community thing where someone made a very simplistic storyboard animatic to the song and a bunch of people tried their hand at making their own animation for it and that’s like. the sweetest thing ever. imagine getting this idea for an animation you can’t pull off yourself and then you get fucking bad apple. even before the whole bad apple but thing it’s all been about collaborating and working together and that’s so cool innit

[seeingteacupsindragons]

fog and bonfire (seems relevant 😆)

Fog: how well do you think you’d do in a zombie apocalypse scenario?

You know, until the last couple months, I would've said, "Bad." But My catastrophe-handling skills have really turned out wonderfully.

(It would still be bad. I'm too squishy and emotional and dead people devastate me and unchecked violence disturbs me and without my meds I would be a puddle)

Bonfire: describe your dream home?

I mean, it probably wouldn't be an apartment, which is what I have now. The idea of owning a building honestly kind of freaks me out, but well. It is part of having a home, innit?

I would want a bedroom, an office, a game room, and a nice dining room and living room. A fire pit. A place to put all the things I like and show them off and a place to have people I love over to spend time with them, which...is what makes a place a home, in many ways, innit?

The paint and cool furniture helps, for sure, but at the end of a day, a home is my place to be me and live my life, and people I love are important part of my life.

Also I want built-in bookcases. God. So much. And a craft room/table, which could dual task as my office as my "place to focus on things seriously." (It's going to be triple tasking as my office and guest bed for now).

I just want a place to do the things I love with the people I love and enjoy myself properly.

And also hire out the chores, God.

[inventors-fair]

Extra Turns: Runners-Up ~

Our runners-up this week are @hiygamer, @nine-effing-hells and @spooky-bard!

@hiygamer​ — Raging Maelstrom

Would mono-red players like this? For sure. Would they play it? Not my business. I think the Izzet Phoenix-like body does it good! It’s strong enough to be repeatable in the right shell and I’m sure there would be ways to cheese it out—like, an enchantment that pinged everyone at upkeep or something. I like how it’s specifically damage. Life loss getting half-phased-out shows where Magic is going, making these kinds of effects more, well, effective. Not bad overall.

I don’t think we need to worry about flavor on this one. It’s not the strongest contender for emotional impact in the world, but it doesn’t want to be and it doesn’t have to be. It’s a storm and it smacks things! No further questions. Big, fast, and a decent enough card to make work in constructed; I don’t think it would see much draft play unless someone’s doing a lot of work to make burn happen.

NOTES: Trample comes before haste in almost every instance, including Ball Lightning, of which this card has direct lineage. C’mon!

~

@nine-effing-hells​ — Chimera of Brief Insights

Well this is a weird little rapscallion, innit. I’m uncertain if a three-color Theros set will coem to fruition, and then I remember that Neon Dynasty had a cycle of three-color legends in an ostensibly two-color archetypical format, and I scratch my head, and then I sigh because I miss drafting Kamigawa and getting my rear end handed to me. Anyway, this card. It’s good! It’s really good, actually, if you can land it. For four mana, you’re not getting the absolute most for your body, but you’re getting good enough card advantage to probably make it work. Great idea making it optional, allowing you to get into a position of hand-dumping when you need it rather than when it’s a mistake.

I would have loved to see some art direction, but I can imagine the sun-dappled beast leaping across the polis, sowing inspiration and chaos in equal measure, and that’s really cool. The image of a chimera on Theros with the three abilities of  “I’m coming for you!” “I’m gonna run you over,” and “it’s hard to stop an errant thought” is interesting. You could have benefitted from flavor text as well. ‘As fast as lightning and twice as bright.’ That’s a first draft, but you get the picture.

~

@spooky-bard​ — Safehold Warmaster

I want this card to be hybrid, and I want it to be without flavor text. Yeah, I’m serious. The rest of this card’s really damn good! The timing especially is the kind of weirdness that I liked; I’m noticing that you were one of the few cards that referenced opponents’ turns as triggers, and that’s a good way to prepare for the turn, which feels like it’s got that specific flavor aspect of its own. I appreciate that. Shadowmoor elves are... Well, I don’t have the time to research them, but they’re really cool, and I like the darkly non-humorous juxtaposition you got here.

Getting the creatures back and then throwing counters on them is pretty awesome, and the fact that it can’t buff itself is probably for the best. I like the higher toughness over power to keep it out of range of your opponents 1-3 drop creatures and burn spells, probably. The fact that it might be at the top of your curve and can recur the aggro cards with an additional mana use is well-designed. Good show.

Commentary as soon as I get back. Be well, folks. `- @abelzumi​

[tired-writer-in-progress]

Joestars play Project Sekai

This is such a bullshit idea I wondered upon, but hey! At least it means I can write some headcannons!

I'm only doing up to part 4 because that's where I'm caught up to right now.

Jonathan:

-He has never played rhythm games before, so it takes him a while to get used to the mechanics. Once he does get them, he's not that bad!

-He usually plays in normal, rare occassions he feels like going on hard mode. He didn't get too far on expert mode, haha... Also, he doesn't like the flick notes at all, they usually make him lose his combo. He is pretty good and hitting the gold notes though!

-Full combos are a 50/50. Depends if he can hit those damn flick notes. His luck in pulls is not that great, he gets min rolls most of the time.

-His favourite Virtual Singer is KAITO because he's blue, his fave version will always be WXS KAITO because he thinks he's cool.

-Also! His favourite group is Wonderland X Showtime, his favourite character is Emu because she's so bright and full of life. But Nene reminds him of Erina a lot.

Joseph:

-A tryhard at his best. He never played a rhythm, and he sucks at them.

-Only plays on normal difficulty, and Caesar makes fun of him for it.

-Rarely full combos, but to make up for it, his luck in pulling is top notch. Man owns more than half of the four stars there is in the game.

-His favourite Virtual Singer is Luka. Her Leo/Need self reminds her of grandma Erina.

-Speaking of Leo/Need, they're his favourite group!

Jotaro:

-He only started playing because Kakyoin and Polnareff recommended it to him. He plays at least an hour everyday.

-Hard and expert player. He doesn't go on master because that's the big gun and he is not ready yet.

-Full combos are easy for him, the trick is him getting all perfects. Blame the flick notes. His luck in pulling is shit though. He only has five four stars. And they're characters he doesn't like.

-Fave Virtual Singer? MEIKO without a doubt. He thinks she's the most down to earth vocaloid in their group.

-His favourite group is VBS, his favourite being Akito because he likes them bastards.

Josuke:

-Our gamer boy here is the mad master of Project Sekai. He may have like a year in that thing.

-Master difficulty. Come on, he doesn't play nicd with these games.

-Full combos and All Perfects are easy for him. His luck in pulling is also nice, too. He may not have all the four stars, but he gets the ones he likes usually.

-He loves all the Virtual Singers equally! But if he had to choose, he'd pick the twins as his favourites. They remind him of Okuyasu and himself. Very nice, innit?

-For group, he has to go with Wonderlands X Showtime. Come on, he likes the goofy ones! Of course he'd pick them! Although he is a bit scared of Rui, but he's not real anyways, so no need to fear, Josuke!