#will i ever write it? probably not.
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Look what we've become.
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#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#wei wuxian#jiang cheng#Initially I wanted to do a 'Mutiny' quote to follow the 'Luck runs out' quote.#But the musical earworms demanded a different blood to be drawn. And I think it works just as well.#Alright. It's time to confess something. I really struggled with this comic. I didn't want to draw it. Then I didn't want to upload it.#Because I knew I would be here in the tags writing and backspacing for hours trying to articulate my thoughts.#I'm going to talk about death and grief in the tags today so this is your WARNING to look away if you aren't in a headspace for it.#Sometimes in media there are scenes and characters which land on topics so specific to your wounds that it reopens them all over again.#Because here's the truth. When you've known someone like this for nearly your whole life...it doesn't matter how bad the fight is.#You always think 'We'll always have time. One day this dust will settle and we'll rebuild the bridge.'#And then the fucker dies!!! He dies and suddenly there will never ever be time to repair the rift.#Someone you loved died thinking you hated them. And part of you did just a bit. But love and hate aren't mutually exclusive.#He's fucking dead and you are left with so many broken and unfinished pieces between the two of you.#Jiang Cheng loses Wei Wuxian thinking that WWX thought they hated each other.#He's a younger brother who will one day be older than the person he lost.#Who has no one else in the world who understands those feelings of love and hate and grief.#I can't be normal about this character. I don't think he even heals me. Zero catharsis to be gained here.#I just look at his sour grape ass and think 'shit that's a little too close to home.' JC is my discomfort character.#I'm probably going to regret being this vulnerable in the tags in like. An hour. So. sorry if you see this once and never again.#EDIT: Yeah sorry this took 4 hours to muster the courage to post. Surprise update!#EDIT 2: You guys were being too nice to me on my sad comic to point out the spelling error. I have fixed it now B'*)
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personal happiness or what the fuck ever
bonus:
#xmen#xmen comics#cherik#charles xavier#erik lehnsherr#professor x#magneto#jeans here too but ssh#snap sketches#i havent posted anything in what feels like forever and i GUESS i have to remind people i do draw sometimes. whatever.#aka in my brain i have at LEAST a five-page doujin where this gets incredibly nsft but i dont have TIME for that these days do i#so for now we get just. these scribbles. ill be able to make something exemplary again someday i swear <- optimistic#i think im going to close my comms off for the rest of december once i get through the batch i have now#which ... doesnt sound hard since the amount i have will probably take me to the end of december anyway 💀#i just need everyone to believe me i have better visions for yaoifying issue 309 .... the opportunity is right there...#like wdym the dream sequence is gon end on a panel of erik's eyes as he reinforces the idea charles needs happiness like scott and jean's..#call up your ex. right now charles.#what got me peeved about this issue is i have no idea what color eriks outfit could be vjaeLVKEJARK its like.#is he wearing a lab coat over a suit .... i think thats the intention ... or maybe it is a trench coat....#idk shit for me to figure out if i ever get the time to explore this thing again#LIKE UGH IM SCREAMING i have Such Visions that i dont have time to execute and theyre killing me#maybe ill just write them down idfk <- trying to write fanfiction ends even worse for me than trying to draw#anyways. im gonna drive myself mad good night everyone#i have to go to a christmas party tomorrow night. later tonight. whatever.#BYE
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so while i was writing the book, i became violently suicidal.
this was mostly due to the fact that i had a very bad reaction to some meds and my brain stopped producing any serotonin. also i was in the last semester of grad school where it's actually illegal to feel anything but dread. so it wasn't going well.
somewhere in the fog of it i became aware i needed help. nobody was taking clients or my insurance. i didn't want to do inpatient care - it wasn't right for my needs. there's not really an "in between" stage between "inpatient" and "no care," but i was trying to do the right thing. i was trying to activate the chain of command that was my emergency plan. i knew i needed help now.
i used betterhelp.
i know, i know. i'm a straight-A student and so smart and so clever, how could i ever use something so blatantly bad. to be honest with you, i didn't feel particularly keen on it from the getgo - things that seem too good to be true usually are. also, if something online is free, the price is usually your privacy.
the thing is that there was kind of a global pandemic happening at the time and i worked 5 jobs alongside of being a fulltime student and also like writing a book on the side. it is a miracle that i even thought about getting help. i would love to tell you i had the mental wherewithal to like, process whether this was the right choice for me. mostly i was desperate. i was so suicidal that i was trying to find a reason to stay inside of fortune cookies. i was the kind of suicidal that looks like splatterpaint. i hadn't been that bad in an entire decade.
they took my data. i gave them it freely. somewhere out there, they have a dossier on me. on everything i survived. my story in little datapoints, scattergraphed beautifully.
the first woman told me that really i should be grateful, because (and this is a direct quote): "at least you're not anne frank." i said that i felt that statement was antisemitic, as anne frank's life and experience shouldn't be compared to like, a nonbinary lesbian in western massachusetts. the therapist said that i should try to use lucid dreaming to try to picture myself in an actually scary situation, like running from nazis.
i applied for another therapist. i was willing to accept the possibility that there was a bad apple in the bunch. the next therapist and i even laughed about how inappropriate that statement was. and then, in our next session: the new therapist said if i was struggling with body image issues, i should just work harder on my appearance. she spent 3 sessions in a row talking about how she was grieving, and made me memorize facts about her grandmother so "she can live on through my clients."
i am a three's-a-charm kind of person. okay, so what if the last person made me uncomfortable. i figured it was just a misunderstanding of priorities - she had felt she was sharing with me, i had felt like i had to take care of her. i applied for another therapist.
the last woman asked me to help her pray. she bowed her head. i stared at her, frozen, while she said: lord, i beg you: cure her. take the pain of being gay away from her.
i spent somewhere between 2.5 and 3 months on betterhelp. in that whole time, i was not getting the professional help i so desperately needed, even though i was fucking trying.
in the end, i survived this because i finally could get off the meds that were literally killing me. a request for a real therapist finally went through. i survived because my friends saved my life. because nick let me sob myself dry in his arms. because maddie took the razors out of my room when i asked them to. because grace slept over in my bed for like 3 weeks in a row since nobody trusted me not to hurt myself when i was alone. i survived because i got fucking lucky. because even when i was desperately suicidal, i was too old and too self-aware to take "you need to be prettier" as good advice.
the thing is that there's a 19 year old me who isn't like that. who would have heard "just think about how grateful you should be" and said - oh, i see. i would have assumed that is what it means to be in therapy: the same thing my abusers used to tell me. that i am just pretending and lazy. that i am ugly and unworthy.
betterhelp positioned itself to take advantage of an incredibly vulnerable community. it preys on desperation. it knows it is serving people who are not doing well mentally. it saw that there is a huge need for real, immediate, compassionate mental health care: and then it fucking takes your money and privacy.
i still get their ads on instagram. last night i watched as a woman in a pool pretends to talk to a different woman. they discuss her anxiety.
there's a 19 year old version of me, and she didn't survive this. she was too tired, and drowning. i almost fucking died. this thing almost fucking killed me.
in the ad, the woman playing the therapist takes a note on a clipboard and then nods once, sagely.
i have to admit it's a pretty scene. the steam and light coming off the pool water lands on the actresses. like this, it almost looks baptismal, holy.
#writeblr#the book....#coming soon#hey so if ur someone who has ever said “you need to write a book”#i wrote the book#it's ... probably the best thing ive ever written#this is maybe too honest lol#okay to reblog thank you for asking i love u i am in love with u our wedding will be in may
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yttdisms now im moved in
#kostik draws#i got so excited when i learned that midori probably stands Like That because he finds it funny to stare at sara at her eye level#what a freak...... i love him so much. eat your damn food bitch#also sou alter squad my alltime faves forever and ever. i Need to write a fanfiction about you#gin ibushi#sou hiyori#shin tsukimi#midori yttd#sara chidouin#fanart#yttd#your turn to die#kimi ga shine#the sillies#thank god i didnt forget how to draw these past few weeks i still need to finish my zine piece
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On the other end
A small dcaXy/n idea I had
Premis: Y/N works part time in the daycare but doesn't really interact with the dca which doesn't mean the dca didn't notice them there.
Start of the story
Y/N gets messages from an unknown number and decides to answer
They start messaging thinking that they don't know each other at all
They notice that the tone and wording in the messages switches completely throughout the day but get used to it way too fast
Y/N's life is a complete mess right now so Unknown is a pleasant distraction
They never tell each other their real names but use nicknames instead
Both share how they feel often and text about life and just anything that they think of
Someday y/n just calls their unknown friend to share some great news because they have no one else they want to share it with
They don't pick up but call back later
A male voice they have never heard answers. A pleasant one. They talk for hours.
But the voice tells them to only call at night bc he can't talk on the phone while working. But texting is fine
Y/N falls in love over late night phone calls and long text convos
They ask if they could meet up and hang out
He doesn't answer
The connection goes silent
The last thing he sent is "I'm so sorry. But I can't" written only a few minutes after their question (in the middle of the day)
Hours go by and they get no answer from him anymore
Hurt and worried Y/N is in a daze of crying and starring at nothing for the rest of the week
This is when Y/N misses their break bc they stayed in the daycare closet to cry
As they step out the daycare is dark sth that Y/N was never there to see
Then they hear it. The voice of the person they love singing from where the kids are sleeping.
Y/N stumbles through the dark until they reach the kids and lock eyes with the daycare attendant
Moon goes quiet and his eyes betray him and show his shock
Y/N is stunned
"It's you?"
Awkward
P2
#fnaf dca#fnaf moon#fnaf sun#dca au#dca sun#dca moon#dca x reader#dca x y/n#fnaf daycare attendant#fnaf dca au#my art#It would probably be fun to switch perspectives between the dca and yn and make the reader an accomplice in the catfishing >:3#There is still the problem of world building but one could just use the pizza plex as the hub for all of yn's problems#I just think seeing sun and moon brainstorm what to answer to yn's messages hilarious#sun losing it and writing near paragraphs of text and moon only using emotes or short form answers#but then turns around and asks the most personal and thought provoking questions ever#And sun having a panic attack when the call happens standing like an idiot in the middle of the daycare#contemplating if he should just pick and run to their room
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Scholarly peak is catching up on recent literature
#bingqiu#shen qingqiu#luo binghe#svsss#sqq#lbh#my art#which is honestly just to say that i've finished the other two print books i was reading#and am now prepared to leap feet first into svsss bk4#i succeeded in holding off for an entire two weeks. i have the conviction of a wet paper towel.#lets see bk4 was described as - what? - an ''angst and smut pile''??#i am very much looking forward to this#i was promised a story with my snake boy#because i am very much not over zhuzhi-lang's fate so this had better be A REALLY NICE HAPPY ONE FOLKS#anyway have sqq and lbh cuddling and reading as i project on them#i like to assume that as time goes on sqq is able to relax his persona a bit more around lbh#i think he should get to cuddle and bitch about shitty novels#but man sqh is really the ONLY source of any books that have an even slightly modern cadence/style i have a feeling sqq would be very keen#though if i'm being honest i really wonder if sqh could ever bring himself to write fiction again#if you're A Writer it tends to be hard to RESIST you just get an itch to tell a story#but also like... the fear that all of this could happen again... or that the characters you're creating might be REAL and SUFFERING...#yeah... i honestly suspect he can't write anymore and that it honestly probably sucks a lot... but for the sake of this joke he is :P
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another one that I'm not super happy with, but continuing to mess with it isn't going to help! so here he is! 🦇 there was a lot I was trying to get across in this one, so uhhhhh hopefully it reads.
we're almost out of unique magics now...just Ace (and maybe Grim?) left!
#art#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland spoilers#twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers#unique magic posters#drawing lilia slightly more on-model than i usually do feels so wrong#i just want to draw the tallest spikes#lilia: (writing down his height) 5'6“...5'2” in a hat#(actually i'm pretty sure he would just write 'fun-size' but i digress)#anyway lilia. hey lilia. your magic is not cradle-specific so WHY is it called that#did it come in like 'so in like 500-ish years we're going to have a significant moment with a cradle. just trust me bro.'#'in the meantime enjoy having the weirdest magic name ever'#probably came in useful for raising kids though#don't put that in your mouth don't you know where it's BEEN#because i do#(long stare off into middle distance) i know where it's been
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the erotic pin up thought but imagine nikolai tattooing his favourite pic and surprising his lover with it :3
he's already been away for two weeks when you get a text from an unknown number. you don't need the contact to discern who it is, anyway. in istanbul. things are running long. don't expect me back so soon. you're not expecting a reply when you tell him not to worry, to just keep himself safe, but you're delighted when you get one anyway.
>>You too, milaya.
he messages you at least once a day, just to check in. you've never been able to contact him like this while he's been on mission before and you don't want to ruin it by being too needy but the temptation of your phone lays heavy in your pocket all week. you'd hate to interfere but he makes it hard when he keeps up a slow, steady means of communication. you wonder about the mission, don't dare ask. it seems unlikely that he'd let himself be so distracted if it were something high stakes, though. it's possible he's been relegated to glorified taxi while bigger pieces make their moves and you can't help but sympathize when you picture him waiting around, dining in the quaint kind of cafes he'd never really seemed to find an appreciation for - at least, not on his own. he was always happy enough to take you but it had always been very clear where his interest lied, dark eyes trained on you even as he ordered. observant, filing away each little reaction he could pull from you with savory dishes and select deserts. you flatter yourself, imagining his patience breaking, just a little more each day, just enough to text you, earlier and earlier each day until two weeks have come and gone and you've basically fallen into a constant rapport.
you ask for pictures of the city and he obliges, little peeks into the life he's living while away. yet more evidence this is some bizarrely political mission he doesn't really need to be present for. you note when he moves locales a few times but he tactfully avoids telling you his location again. he stops sending you pictures altogether when you start guessing correctly.
so you start sending him pictures instead. they start out innocent enough, testing the limits of what you're allowed to say on this line. he shows gives no intent to stop you when you show him the view from the summit of a local hike, nor even when you snap a picture outside a local restaurant, its logo left carelessly in frame. he only tells you to enjoy, doubles down when you send a selfie with your cheeks stuffed full of spanakopita.
you start to think he deserves a reward, being on the clock for nearly a month straight and still finding the time to check in with you.
his hangar is a sacred place, one you rarely enter without his accompaniment. too many expensive tools, machinery pulled apart with all its fragile bits exposed. you're always afraid to touch, afraid to break. nik had told you once that every item there was made of sterner stuff, that you couldn't hurt a swashplate if you climbed up on it. funny how you might be taking him up on the offer now.
(you wouldn't know really, the knowledge about what a swashplate even was having gone in one ear and right out the other. not your fault when he looked that good, jumpsuit folded down to reveal a sweaty, clingy tank top, wiry hair visible through the thin ribbed material.)
but you're getting ahead of yourself.
the tarp kicks up a mess when you pull it free, concrete dust having settled in nik's absence. it sends you into a sneezing fit and you curse, smudging your makeup as you try to wipe away the moisture collecting on your lash line. you decide to roll with it when you catch a glimpse of yourself in some nearby chrome, see the kind of effect it brings to your overall look.
your makeup is classic, a bright lip and exaggerated liner. even a painted on beauty mark to really knock it home. the outfit was harder to settle on, your every instinct telling you nik always appreciated when you looked your finest, all dolled up in expensive labels he'd bought for you. but ultimately you'd decided what was good for the goose was good for the gander, pilfering from his closet until you'd found what you were looking for, the exact same outfit which drove you mad.
nik's a big man, his jumpsuit made to reflect that. it drapes away from your waist when you let it hang but it's nothing that a clever safety pin corset can't fix, the top of the suit left to hang over it, hiding it away. long legs are easier to remedy, hems tucked into a pair of hiking boots you hadn't cared about in years, now painted to look the part with the same gear grease you'd smeared all over yourself, tasteful swipes meant to accentuate your soft curves, here on display under the dirty tank top you'd sworn you'd told him to get rid of, now tied tight around your waist to show off your chest. and now with your smudged makeup you think you've finally got it right, the look exactly what you'd been going for when you'd first got the notion in your head.
with the stage already set, the photoshoot goes easily enough. the poses are almost instinctual, the big wrench you wield almost natural in your hands as you lean provocatively over the engine block, tits to squished you doubt he'll ever even notice the size isn't right for the bolts in front of you. you try a couple of different styles, positions which are obviously designed with aesthetics in mind interspersed with more competent looking ones, even though it makes you feel ridiculous when you think of how obvious it will be to him that you don't know what you're doing.
you just have to remember how little he's going to mind it, all told.
editing isn't your strong suit. you're racked with doubt all the while, hyperfocused on every little flaw you spot. it gets easier when you remember the whole shoot is meant to be quite grimy and in the end you settle on a decent collection. you even remember to upload them to a file sharing site to avoid compression, sending him the link with a wink and a warning not to open in front of his comrades.
he calls you naughty immediately, but it's long hours before he can properly respond, a call that wakes you up in the middle of the night so he can pant and moan in your ear about how much he wants to bend you over that engine, peel his suit off of you and eat your cunt from the back. it's the first time you've heard his voice in weeks and the low rumble of it conspires with the slickness in your panties which never fully righted itself after your little photoshoot, the anticipation of his reaction keeping you primed for him. you come together before trading quiet reassurances. how much you miss each other, how you can't wait to see him again. he makes a vague promise to be home soon and you're still so sated that the twinge of loneliness feels like nothing really.
you think that's the end of it. that maybe he'll request more, at most. but then you wake up days later with a furnace at your back and a hairy arm draped over your side. it's still early, the sun not even up yet. you should let him sleep but you can't help rolling within the age of his arm and planting a chaste kiss on his cheek. even in the low light you can see how haggard and hollow he looks, run ragged for too long. his beard is overgrown, the short stubble he usually keeps filling out into a decent beard.
really it's unfair how handsome he looks even now.
"go back to sleep."
you huff a laugh and press another kiss to him. lower now that you know he's awake. above his cupid's bow, your own lips drawn tight with your smile. "but it's morning."
"can't be," he counters, voice thick with exhaustion. "i only just fell asleep."
you hum, distracted as you trace the wrinkles of his forehead. was that one always there? was it new? "maybe it's not wherever you were," you concede. "where were you, by the way?"
"where wasn't i?" he sighs as he rolls away, a great puff of air that cuts through the easiness of the morning, reminds you of what exactly he's likely returned from. the culmination of the mission, even the easy one it seemed to be. he was rarely ever trotted out for emissary visits, after all.
but you don't want to think about all that so you follow him as he rolls, laying yourself across his chest to keep him grounded as you rub against his far shoulder. "well you're home now and my vote's for sleeping in."
his chest rumbles beneath you, a quiet laugh you can feel more so than you can hear. he takes your hand in his and presses a kiss to your fingers before setting it back down in favor of reaching much lower to pull you more properly onto him. your grip shifts from his shoulder to his bicep and you pause when you feel the edge of a bandage there, worry settling low in your belly as you trace the edges of it. "you're hurt?" you demand, but you don't give him a chance to respond before sitting up and leaning across him to turn the lamp on.
it takes you a moment to make sense of what you're looking at, the bandage you'd felt before nothing more than four haphazard lines of tape holding a square of black plastic against his skin. he laughs at your confusion, thumbing the furrow between your brows away as he also sits up, pulling you onto his lap as he reassures you he's not hurt.
"what's that then?" you ask, afraid to peel the edges up and see for yourself.
he's chuckling as he does it for you, the wrap pulling away to reveal the neat black lines and bold color of a traditional tattoo, a plump little pinup in a barely-hanging-on mechanic's jumpsuit, her cartoonishly circular tits squeezed between her own arms as she leaned confidently over simplified engine block. it's good work from what you can tell. his bicep is a big canvas, the tattoo itself appropriately sized, leaving the artist enough room for minute details, smudges of brown oil accentuating your curves and a wry smile below demure lids.
still.
"you didn't," you scoff, too blown away to even know if you're actually mad or not. you don't think you are, but what if he -
what if -
"well it was either this or i get you airbrushed on the side of the blackhawk, but you are mine, and i do not want just anyone to see you like that."
#she probably shouldn't have worn his stuff if she didn't want him to think she would be his always *shrug emoji*#unedited sorry i have to put this down forever#or else i'll take an unexpected detour into in your web town because i love writing him + ldr i guess?#idk#something about the man screams at me to text him late at night and make a bunch of mistakes lol#also this is the softest i've ever written him???#felt weird but we're rolling with it#nikolai cod x reader#nik cod x reader#gouge answers
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Losing my shit about this article in which a transphobic Tory was so busy panicking about existing in the vicinity of a Trans that she almost certainly misheard "jeans" as "penis" and decided that not only was this a problem with the other woman, but also that the world must be informed of this pressing danger.
"a trans woman! I had to stand directly behind her....I thought, 'this is going well', I'm handling The Situation fine'..."
translated: I saw a tall woman with broad shoulders. How would I get out of this alive? I thought. she has a PENIS. PENIS PENIS PENIS. through some force of PENIS I mean will I managed to PENIS behave normally towards her. My hands were PENIS PENIS PENIS shaking as I tried to dry them. summoning up all my PENIS courage I said 'dryer's crap innit'. she turned to me and said " yeah I'm just goiPENIS PENIS PENIS"
It's been a week and I'm still shaking. This proves trans women are the problem and I'm not weird. I'm fine. It's fine. If you think about it I'm the hero hePENIS!!!!!
very this
#red said#it's just. I'm obsessed.#everyone on Twitter is saying 'never happened' and i think they're wrong#this absolutely did happen and she's been obsessing over how vindicated it made her feel enough to WRITE AN ARTICLE ABOUT IT#because she MISHEARD SOMEONE IN A CASUAL CONVERSATION#i lay out my reasoning thusly: if you were INVENTING a scary trans woman in bathroom story out of nothing. why would it be this?#why would you go with 'we had a banal conversation until she said a sentence that makes no sense and that no human has ever uttered#but which does coincidentally sounds almost exactly like a mishearing of a very NORMAL thing to say in the circumstances#then she left and nothing else occurred'#if you were going to INVENT a story you would probably make it MAKE SENSE or SOUND THREATENING#i truly believe this is a very authentically told account of what she thinks happened#because who would. by means other than mishearing. think 'I'm going to wipe my hands on my penis' makes any sense at all.#a) 'I'm going to dry my hands on my genitals' says the presumably fully clothed woman#b) who then proceeds to leave without doing anything threatening#c) WHO SAYS PENIS THREATENINGLY? sorry it's writing out 'penis' repeatedly that made this jump out to me but like. who says that?#you might hear someone talk casually about their dick or cock but i stg it's only doctors and TERFs who casually use the word penis much#it's so. clinically descriptive. it's a weird use of language. but it IS. something you could plausibly mishear from 'pants' or 'trousers'
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Fish Guy deleted scene
“Okay,” Steve does Eddie’s tie for him. He’s wearing a pale lemon yellow button up and the blue tie he picked out, “say it again for me.”
“English is my second language, I’m still learning,” Eddie says haltingly, and with great concentration.
“Okay, and if they ask anything about you being able to work in the US?”
“I have my passport, and a work visa. I pay my taxes.”
Steve sighs with relief, “you’re getting so good at this. Okay, why do you want to be a postal worker?”
“I like to walk a lot. I like people. And I like being very punctual.”
The last bit still sounds a bit weird to Steve, like Eddie’s favorite hobby is showing up on time, but he lets it slide. It’s as good as they’re going to get right now.
“Okay, you got everything?”
Eddie holds his envelope tightly; it’s got all his I.D and his reference from Hopper, plus a cover letter they wrote together, “yeah.”
“Okay, how are you feeling?” Eddie flaps his fingers in front of his middle, “like butterflies?”
“Yes. Horrible.”
Steve laughs, “nervous. You’ll do good, I know it.”
#fish guy eddie#fish guy#my writing#this probably wont ever be posted#steddie#eddie munson#stranger things#steve harrington#ao3 author#ao3 writer#creature eddie munson#upside down creature eddie#just a little thing I dont think ill use
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Also have another “first words spoken to you are on your skin” soulmate AU idea where Kara is a journalist assigned to shadow the controversial CEO of L-Corp for the day. It’s a big deal for her to get this assignment, so of course she trips the second she’s near the other woman and tries awkwardly to redeem herself.
The CEO stares at her almost in shock, and then says nothing. At all. Ever, for the entire day.
Kara spends hours following Lena Luthor around trying to fill the silence, but no amount of questions get her to talk. Lena almost seems to be running away at some points - like she’s trying to lose her? - and the few times she’s managed to catch her actually talking to someone she goes silent the second she sees Kara.
She asks around if Miss Luthor is usually like this and everyone looks at her like she’s crazy. Apparently she’s the only one who gets the silent treatment. By the end of her first day shadowing she’s walking away with half a page of observations and not a single quote. Miss Grant is going to kill her.
But that’s okay. It’s fine, this isn’t over. She has four days of shadowing ahead of her and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t finish this with a quote from the woman herself. It’s only a matter of time.
#what if you were an over stressed billionaire who feels like your existence must be a constant apology for the sins of your family#and you’re about to be followed around and studied by some no named baby reporter sent from a fashion magazine#you’re battling the migraine of a century you have five crises to settle all at once and also that baby reporter just said your words#the ones you’ve carried for the last decade - the ones you’ve feared and hoped for ever since#and it’s wonderful probably - this is what people dream of - but the problem is you just don’t have time for this#you can’t have your big soulmate moment#not right now. definitely not with this reporter. it’s not the right time#so I guess those words will just have to wait until it is time#if you can someone manage to resist. it’ll be hard#she does seem like someone it’d be really easy to talk to after all#good luck to you both#soulmate AU#Supercorp#fun shenanigan that I shan’t be writing#mine
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Thank you all for an incredible 500 days of love and support. I offer you: answers to questions that no one has asked.
(As always, more can be found in the tags <3)
#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#wei wuxian#a-qing#jin ling#wen ning#jiang cheng#“Hey wait this feels like there should have been way more content for questions” Yes. There was.#I was not strong enough to redraw *all* of what was lost. Rest in piece the original (lost to tea related accident)#But I'll tell you all the fun other things that would have been drawn out right here in the tags!#Did you know my longest posting streak was 61 days? And my longest hiatus was 6 days?#Did you know I missed posting on 92 days of those 500 days - meaning I posted 82% of the time on a daily basis?#I'm normal about collecting data. I have so much data on this blog for normal reasons. I'm also so normal about art. The normalest.#Honorable mention for the character rankings: Lan Wangji! for “Most improved in rank”.#Sorry Lan Wangji fans but until the audio drama I honestly was...pretty indifferent towards him.#I think a huge part of that was due to the fact he's constantly paired up with WWX; who has *so* much charisma and steals the scene#But I've really come to like him a lot more since starting this project. He rose from mid-tier to being in the top ten!#Dishonorable mention: Nie Huaisang. Who fell out of number 1 spot and out of the top 5.#He just hasn't shown up a lot! And my rankings are fickle! They will probably change once I finish the third season!#My favourite comics are: A lot of them! And the ones I have yet to make!#I'm very sleepy at the moment while writing this but I do want to give a huge shout out to YOU.#Yeah! you reading this! Thank you! If you've been here since the first week or just started reading: THANK YOU!#If you've only ever lurked and never even liked a single post but still read my comics: THANK YOU!!#In creating this blog - I have found 500 days of more happiness that I could have ever imagined.#Thank you for joining me on this journey. Thank you for giving me your time and your support.#It means more than any 'thank you' could say B'*)
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DPxDC Afterlife, But It's A Bar
[discontinued, feel free to add on]
It was weird. Not wrong, alarming or dangerous type of weird. Not good or comforting either.
Just plain weird.
It all started a few days ago, on Wednesday, to be exact. On a rare occasion, Jason was patrolling outside of his territory ("cover for me, I have a date" my ass, Replacement), and he spotted something out of place. A neon green, almost toxic colored sign that read "Afterlife".
Honestly, who names a place like that? But judging by the placement and design, it was a bar, and Jason could almost appreciate the irony. Maybe it had a slogan along the lines of "our drinks will send you beyond the lines of life and death" or something. But at the same time, it could be interpreted as "alcohol can and will be the death of you," which, technically, is not the best PR campaign for a bar.
Jason decided to visit the place anyway. He was curious about the implied death joke, sue him.
Of course, he didn't visit immediately. He was still on patrol, and he just heard the sound of gunshots to the west. Not to say that the place was quiet.
(Oddly quiet for a bar in Gotham, now that he thinks about it)
Anyway, the next day, he went there not as Red Hood but as Jason Todd, an ordinary civilian who decided to grab a beer in the evening. Only to not find the place.
He couldn't have just miss it - he remembered the street, he knew the building, he was absolutely fucking sure where the "Afterlife" should have been. He searched the whole block nonetheless, and then proceeded to check the whole area, but to no avail.
Damn, it seems like he can't get to the afterlife both literally and- the other literally. Yeah, he might be having too much fun with the oddly chosen name for the nonexistent bar.
It didn't exist on the maps and internet either. At this point, Jason was contemplating the idea of it being a hallucination or a dream. He even checked the recording on his helmet from Wednesday night, but the whole time he was in the area, the video was filled with interference and static.
Weird. Slightly suspicious, but Red Robin, who's been patrolling the same area for weeks before him, never reported any interferences, so it probably had something to do with his helmet and not the area in general.
On Thursday night, he purposefully went there right after patrol. And the nonexistent bar suddenly existed again! The same neon green sign, the same quiet street around it.
Seriously, what is this mysterious fuckery?
Now, if he was a Bat, he would have reported this to others and investigated, lurked around in shadows, and approached with caution. If he was a Robin, he would have still reported and then straight up marched in there and saw how it goes.
Alas, he was Red Hood, so he decided to watch for the bar guests and see just who the hell goes in and out of the place.
And there was the next weird thing.
No one was going in or out. Jason sat there for a whole hour, and not even one person entered or left the building. Despite the muffled sounds of music, voices and laughter coming from the place.
The final kicker was the fact that after some careful questioning and dropping hints, Jason found out that no one except him ever saw the "Afterlife"'s sign. No one's even heard of it, both the Batclan and the Gothamites.
The fuck?
So he did the next logical thing. He brought the smartest member of the Bats with him. Tim owed him anyway. Might as well use it now instead of later.
Friday night proved two things: one, Tim was still his favorite to work with out of all the bats and birds, not questioning anything as to why Jason is asking him to check out a bar, and two, Jason just might be going insane.
Tim couldn't see the "Afterlife" even when Jason pointed at the sign from not further than ten feet. The irony of the stipid name was not even amusing anymore.
Tim didn't ask any questions after this experiment, and Jason didn't want to admit that he is losing the grip of reality, so they ended up simply parting their ways after. Can the Pits cause brain damage? More damage than there was in the first place, that is.
Now that he thinks about it, the color of the sign is really similar to the Lazarus waters. He should have noticed it sooner, but in his defense, who would look at the bubbling pool of toxic waters and think, "Oh, that would make a dope neon sign"? Apparently, the owner of the "Afterlife".
The color might be just a coincidence.
...no, in the world he lives in, coincidences like this just don't happen. Besides, Jason doesn't believe in shit like fate or destiny.
So, here he is, on Saturday night, standing in front of the door to the Afterlife. It would have been funny if it wasn't so weird. What's even more weird is that the closer he gets to the door, the less nervous he feels, like the place is radiating some calming aura. Wait, no, scratch that, Jason is so not calling it a calming aura for God's sake. That sounds just like those homemade witches with their crystals, tarot readings, and whatnot.
He's going to call it... tranquilizer vibes. Yeah, that's better.
He takes a deep breath, getting ready to see whatever it is on the other side, pushes the door open, and walks into the bar.
...
Whatever he's been expecting to see, it's not this.
#danny phantom#dc x dp#dpxdc#batfam#batman#jason todd#tim drake#afterlife#red hood#ghost zone#but its a bar?#this was actually the first ever thing i have written in dpxdc fandom#it was more than a year ago#its been sitting in my notes for a long time#the grammar is funky#i remember i was into Dead on Main at the time#so i was probably planning on writing it#alas i have fallen into Dead Tired later#might as well throw it out there and run#feel free to continue!#cork writes#cork prompts
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![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/9e33994cdc702b419c434ab78fcafb4f/aed2275f6d4144d8-1f/s540x810/73de1226ad571a66a0af44d22815b627b47dbd34.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/281650c3b7f1673874f0d8ad660e3ea4/aed2275f6d4144d8-a5/s540x810/13a830da51ed7e1fff76baccbb465ae3cb7a01f1.jpg)
humans. can also lick things :)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/c3365aaccd75fe27a7947e53c19887eb/252f88dcca909759-06/s540x810/1c070b232346f427f3eef23532e5d28c5f457f0f.jpg)
[Disco Elysium]
Detective Double Yefreitor Harrier Du Bois and His Android Partner K1M-57 or something idk
#replies#also u don't understand kim is broken#his visual systems need glasses to work properly#he can't access a lot of his memory bank for plot purposes so he has to write everything down in a notebook#he lives in an apartment that was willed to him by his last now dead partner#that apartment is full of filing cabinets that are stuffed full of notebooks#they're organized in a way that only makes sense to him and that is what takes up most of his useable memory#he has to look things up on an external device (phone/pc/tablet)#he cannot connect to the internet#the kitsuragi model is so fucken rare that no one can or will attempt to do maintenance on any of them#there were 3 of this model that were released and the other 2 got decommissioned for reasons. kim is the last one.#his user manual is corrupted. he and his last partner taught themselves how to do the maintenance through trial and error.#kim maintains and repairs himself in his own apartment. he's jury rigged to hell and back.#the kineema was also willed to him. don't ask me how the law works with androids owning property just know that kim does lmao#kim is broken af and that's really the whole point of this but all of this really just exists in my head so nobody knows this just by#looking at this drawing#will i ever write it? probably not.#but the point is kim is broken and harry doesn't care and loves him anyway bc harry is also broken#the other point is that harry is weirder than his android#thanks for coming to my ted talk :)#disco elysium
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Danny working in retail.
Dead end job.
He always ends up at the nightshift.
Everyone thinks the bags under his eyes are because he can't sleep.
He gets told all the time that he "looks like death" and he always just replies "thanks"
He just sorta stands in the dark corner and customers don't notice him, but they sorta inherently know he's there and avoid him, but he moves and they about shit their pants.
#just a half assed idea#i think about danny working the night shift at some shitty job#like#alot actually#ill probably end up working it into a fic eventually#if i ever end up completing any fic im writing#dpxdc#dp x dc#dc x dp#dp x dc crossover#danny phantom
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In your Spitfire AU, since Zuko is looking after Lu Ten II, what happened to Ursa?
Zuko is slightly older in the Spitfire AU. He was banished at fifteen, his head a little clearer and denial a little weaker than in canon. After his first look through the Air Temples, Zuko decides that if he can't find a myth, he might as well search for the next best thing.
Finding Ursa isn't easy, but in time he makes it to a secluded house in a near-forgotten part of the world. His mom is there, older and stronger and alive.
But she isn't alone.
And Zuko, as it turns out, didn't keep the best company during his search.
When Ursa is discovered and her secrets are laid bare for assassins (for Ozai) to find, she begs Zuko to take his little brother and run. She'll do anything it takes to protect her children, even if that means leaving them behind to keep a target off their back. Ursa diverts attention from them and allows Lu Ten's ancestry to be kept a secret. She orders Zuko not to follow her again, and disappears.
Zuko is left with a little three-year-old brother to raise and a mother he cannot hold onto.
#dema answers#atla#spitfire#Spitfire AU#prince zuko#atla ursa#Lu Ten II#The Ursa/Hakoda parallels are going to be insane in this one I swear#It's okay tho#It's absolutely intentional#(The other option was killing her. But I happen to find family conflict and abandonment issues way more compelling to write)#Luckily Zuko isn't alone. He's a mess of course—and raising the little brother you never knew you had isn't easy.#But he has Uncle and (once those loyal to his father have been taken care of) he also has his crew.#Look three years into the future and you've got a six-year-old Spitfire running around the ship and giving Zuko early gray hair#Ursa will be reunited with them in the future. I just don't know when would that happen yet.#Probably post-war#She returns to her children only to come face to face with their overprotective found family (aka the Gaang)#Their reunion would be quite messy at first but...it'll all be okay#They all love each other deeply. And sometimes love isn't enough. Sometimes there are things that you can't forgive or forget.#But Ursa did everything she did because she loved them. And Zuko knows that. Zuko understands that.#(He was forced to make the same decision in Ba Sing Se—giving yourself up and leaving the people you love behind so that they're safe)#(He understands)#But Lu Ten II doesn't#He doesn't remember Ursa. Not really. He knows of her what Zuko and Uncle tell him. But he doesn't remember ever having a mother.#(Tara is soft and warm and kind to him. She holds him and takes care of him and makes sure he's well-behaved. And he loves her.)#(Is that what makes a mother? Or is it the blood you share?)#Ursa isn't much like Tara. But she loves him dearly—there's a reason he has the name of someone who was so dear to her.#She is Lu Ten's mother. Zuko's mother. Uncle's sister.#And she isn't like Tara. But she loves him even if he can't remember her.#So maybe he can learn to love her back.
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