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haryuusart · 16 days

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✨ Sixth Universe: Childhood friends ✨

This is part of my series "Do you think we love each other in every universe?" ❤️

In this last universe, Keith and Lance grew up together as childhood friends, and I imagine they go on to fall in love with each other as they get older 🥰 it reminds me a lot of one of my fave klance fanfictions with this premise but I can't remember its name!!! I just remember Lance called Keith Snickers 🤔 do you know this Fanfiction?

Thank you so much for your overwhelming support for this series! We got to the end of all the universes, but it's not the end of the series altogether! I'm planning some other stuff sooo stay tuned ✨

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taffywabbit · 5 months

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they should invent a new type of "staying in bed for 2-3 hours after you wake up repeatedly opening and closing apps on your phone" where it makes you feel awesome and energized and emotionally fulfilled

#buny text #I'm fine i've just been staying up too late playing bg3 the past few nights #and then wanting to wake up before noon so my parents don't say anything rude to me so i end up getting less sleep to facilitate that #and it's catching up to me #i feel like this explanation maybe undermines my previous statement of 'I'm fine' a bit but I'm fine i promise #look at my lop posts boy

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abracadaze · 2 years

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i feel so bad for nikola tesla like imagine spending years beefing with a guy who has conned the public into believing he's some sort of supergenius when in reality it's his overworked employees developing all of his world-changing inventions and you end up dying broke and starving and alone and then 100 years later another guy cons the public into believing he's some sort of supergenius when in reality it's his overworked employees developing all of his world-changing inventions and he's doing it all IN YOUR NAME. he must be rolling in his grave like a fucking rotisserie chicken

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inkskinned · 10 months

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at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

#every time someones like ''AI will replace u" im like. u will have to fucking KILL ME #there is no replacement here bc i am not filling a position. i am just writing #and the writing is what i need to be doing #writeblr #this probably doesn't make sense bc its sooo frustrating i rarely speak it the way i want to #edited for the typo wrote it and then was late to a meeting lol #i love u people who mention my typos genuinely bc i don't always catch them!!!! :) it is doing me a genuine favor!!!#my friend says i should tell you ''thank you beta editors'' but i don't know what that means #i made her promise it isn't a wolf fanfiction thing. so if it IS a wolf thing she is DEAD to me (just kidding i love her)#hey PS PS PS ??? if ur reading this thinking what it's saying is ''i am financially capable of losing this'' ur reading it wrong #i write for free. i always have. i have worked 5-7 jobs at once to make ends meet.#i did not grow up with access or money. i did not grow up with connections or like some kind of excuse #i grew up and worked my fucking ASS OFF. and i STILL!!! wrote!!! on the side!!! because i didn't know how not to!!!#i do not write for money!!!! i write because i fuckken NEED TO #i could be in the fucking desert i could be in the fuckken tundra i could be in total darkness #and i would still be writing pretentious angsty poetry about it #im not in any way saying it's a good thing. i'm not in any way implying that they're NOT tryna kill us #i'm saying. you could take away our jobs and we could go hungry and we could suffer #and from that suffering (if i know us) we'd still fuckin make art.#i would LOVE to be able to make money doing this! i never have been able to. but i don't NEED to. i will find a way to make my life work #even if it means being miserable #but i will not give up this thing. for the whole world.

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chloesimaginationthings · 1 month

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The secret good ending for FNAF ruin,,

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egophiliac · 2 months

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don't think I'm not still deep in the episode 7 brainrot. because OH BOY AM I

(also one more extremely, obnoxiously self-referential thing, I'm -- I'm so sorry)

#art #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland spoilers #twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers #twisted wonderland episode 7 part 7 spoilers #twisted wonderland book 7 #twisted wonderland book 7 part 7 spoilers #and so ends the saga #(this time for real i promise)#malleus post-episode 7: shroud...i should have heeded your warnings...now tell me more about how i may hunt this elusive 'snipe'#alas poor puppies :( i'm glad they had a little aside about how they can fix them after this whole mess #let ortho have his dogs!#man i love that this has come down to malleus vs technology though #MY FAVORITE #ortho: you can destroy the shell that links me to this mortal world...but can you select the CORRECT DOWNLOAD LINK???#malleus: (downloads a billion viruses and dies instantly)#also i'm probably the only one who thinks idia complaining about his own mental tartarus prison is funny #but there we go #idia has two modes and two modes only #he's either in the middle of a metaphor where he finally forgives himself for his brother's death and takes charge of his own destiny #or he's like 'fuck yeah i'm about to get isekai'd into the internet! (immediately falls over making dying whale sounds)'#wait no he has a third mode: actively suffocating because silver and sebek won't stop squishing him #look he's just delightful no matter what's going on okay

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bluegiragi · 2 months

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diplomacy.

early access + nsfw on patreon

#i know it's not the time but simon is truly at his prettiest when he's bloodied and beaten to hell #dont worry. this is not the end of it. it gets worse #heart emoji #this flashback is gonna take a while but i promise the payoff is worth it #simon ghost riley #manuel roba #cod mw2 #monster 141 au #giragi art

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theoldkyokodied · 1 year

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One wedding and three funerals

Background paintings under the cut

#tomgreg #succession #tom wambsgans #greg hirsch #shiv roy #roman roy #kendall roy #yeah no im not tagging everyone thats too much #this is me going 'how much implications themes and symbolism can i fit in one painting'#yes i gave rose shivs haircolor. if we ever find out how she looks like and its not like this im just gonna pass away i guess #but yeah i hope yall connect the dots #i put waaay too much thought and work into this. i was googling pictures of all the actors as kids just for reference (sigh)#honestly kinda wanted to make tom and greg link pinkies as like. a pinkie promise. but that was too hard to draw in this angle #at least not without obstructing the view of the ring which is important to see so ya #my fave is actually the tomshiv wedding pic i went off with that. i love them... they should have run away to become sheep farmers fr fr #anyway im so glad im done with this UGH!! finally i can draw smth else without being like oh noooo i need to finish this #i see a lot of you wondering why there is no portrait of logan but one of ewan #it's bc the placement of the painting represent their standing. logans portray would not hang next to the stairs #his present portrait hangs at the end of it. all the way up at the top. alone and withering away #basically the picture you see underneath ewan to the right? its where toms parents would be. the right side of the wall is tom and gregs #and the left one is the roy siblings theirs. since they grew up rich rich. and tom and greg didn't #but ya thats why ewan hangs here and logan does not :)

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peaceandlove26 · 29 days

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wip of my new favorite baby, designed by graymutual, currently unnamed but definitely a twiluna child

#ummm guys i promise i won’t make a new nextgen in my head because i can’t just make my nextgens have siblings apparently….!#mlp #name suggestions super welcome btw. i thought about wishing star maybe. the last time i named a character wishing star though she was kind #of evil and this girl is really not at all #i might end up tweaking the colors just a bit because some of them are hard to work with in my lineless style i realized. but i dont want to #ruin them…#also i will keep the tail being outlandishly big and fluffy. i didn’t draw it big enough in the sketch

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chaos-bringer-13 · 2 months

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Injured and trying to hide after a fight with GIW, Danny has to overshadow the first person he sees. Because of how weak he is at the moment, overshadowing doesn't work as usual, and he's just a voice in the guy's head, no actual control over the body. The person he overshadowed? Billy Batson.

Yes, it's divine twitch chat au. Billy probably doesn't even notice a new voice for some time. Danny is very confused because there are just so many people in there and they're gods and who the hell did he possess???

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #Danny: I just need to hide somewhere for a bit #Danny seeing a random kid: Sorry dude I promise I'm gonna leave soon- what the hell.#Divine twitch chat: Danny has entered the chat #prompt #I don't know if someone already did this #I definitely have seen a “Dan is in the divine twitch chat” prompt and some “Danny possesses someone to hide from GIW”#but nothing about Danny overshadowing Billy and ending up in this chaos that Billy's head is #Danny has entered the chat

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omrarchive · 1 month

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diamondsheep · 4 months

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What do you mean >:3 face ?

He got embarrassed bc Sanji keeps annoying him with "not" knowing about that face ( which he does on purpose just to get that same reaction from the Marimo )

#i had to draw this bc I'm obsessed with Sanji's (/wo) face #he does it all the time and it is so cute :3 #anyway here is my last drawing of 2023 !! ahdkfks it's jusr a silly comic pftt #but hey i wanted to end the year with a similar comic to my first zosan comic c:#and well i hope that everyone has an AMAZING AND HAPPY NEW YEAAAR 🎊🥳🎊🥳🎊🥳🎊✨️#adhkgkd i promise more Zosans next year 💚💛💚💛💚💛💚#zosan #zoro #sanji #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji #one piece #one piece fanart #sanzo #my drawings #my art #diamondsheep art

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taffywabbit · 10 months

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i have lots of flaws but i do at least take a fair amount of comfort knowing that, if i were a customer NPC in a fast food/retail management game, i would be one of the chill early-level ones that can wait a super long time before they start getting impatient, and you breathe a sigh of a relief when you see them show up in a harder level

#buny text #was standing in line at popeyes today and they were SUPER busy and the staff couldn't even take my order for a while #and the guy at the till was like 'so sorry for the wait we'll get to you soon i promise' and i was like hey no worries 👍#and he gave me this look that i understood from my own time in retail to mean 'thank you for being fucking normal'#there was nobody else behind me cuz i showed up at the very end of the lunch rush i think #and in that moment i just pictured like. a lil timer wheel above my head that was still green and mostly full lmao #i love being nice to retail workers it's so fun

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braisedhoney · 4 months

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well wishes from the void

#utdr #utdr fanart #deltarune #deltarune fanart #wd gaster #gaster fanart #utdr soul #utdr player #this is… actually not from my backlog #this is something i was able to finish over a couple days (terrible burnout hhh ;;) and wanted to get up before december ended #i know I’ve been less interactive/active—sorry about that. i haven’t been spending a lot of time online.#but while i can’t promise anything atm i do hope you have a lovely winter.#well wishes from the void o7 #might be my last post for the year unless i queue the caine and pomni comic #so please take care of yourselves <3

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inkskinned · 1 month

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will you be enough for her, though. little slip child. you hated every time you had to scream to be heard, so you stopped screaming. it feels so fucking demeaning, 16 and shivering, saying please! father! look at me! and having him say in a minute sweetie.

online they're back to making fun of self-harm scars. isn't that funny. we have dropped the silver pretense of empathy and are walking around without any shred of humanity.

are you still shouting? how can anybody love you, then, siren. error signal. your voice so quiet and desperate. nobody is going to help you, stop begging. how can anybody actually look down at you without squashing you flat. oh, darling. you once bit into the back of your hand to stop from crying out, and discovered that it felt too dramatic for repeating.

people like you aren't supposed to cry, because you are too much. you have never meant to, but you take the air out of a room just by walking in. other people can take up room like a sunbeam. you blurt out all your wickedness in oilslicks, everyone can feel it. you slosh yourself over their hands and demand their flinch. you are a bone stuck in the throat.

be more beautiful, more perfect. if you can earn it, they won't abhor you. they might even tolerate you, if you turn the right way and never stand up straight.

but love? her life is a silver fish, a cat paw. your life is a long, thin, impossible desire - angry like a blade. your life is a crack in the floortile. you cannot bring your rotted fruit heart into the church of her hands. you will ruin her. you will overtake everything good for her.

or worse - you will have to beg her look at me. and that moment of desperation will ruin you forever. completely.

deleted scene from body's a bad monster, 9.24.2024

#neg #writeblr #spilled ink #i was clearly in a bad place while writing it but i promise it ends happy

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solarmorrigan · 2 days

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Saw someone mention how Steve tends to get defensive when he's anxious and it stuck with me, so here's my take on the "Steve breaks a dish and has a panic attack about it" trope

cw: descriptions of nonstandard panic attack, implied/referenced child abuse

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The distinct sound of shattering porcelain is followed by a vehemently hissed, “shit,” and then silence.

“Steve?” Eddie calls from the couch into the kitchen. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve calls back, but his voice sounds tight in the way it does when something definitely isn’t okay.

Eddie pushes himself up and moves to the doorway, looking in to see what the trouble is. The kitchen of the house he and Wayne had been “gifted” by the government isn’t exactly huge, and he has a straight line of sight to where Steve is standing by the sink, eyes squeezed shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose, and to the red and white shards of porcelain on the floor by his feet.

“Hey,” Eddie says, but Steve doesn’t look up; if anything, his posture only gets tenser. “You’re not cut or anything, are you?”

“No,” Steve says, and his tone is still a little off, but he doesn’t sound like he’s lying.

“What was that, anyway?” Eddie asks.

Finally, Steve takes a deep breath in and opens his eyes, looking down at the mess on the laminate. “Mug.”

As soon as he says it, Eddie recognizes the colors for what the design must have been. “Shit, the Campbell’s one?”

Steve doesn’t say a word, just gives one sharp nod.

Eddie sucks a hiss of breath in through his teeth. “Shit,” he says again. “That was Wayne’s favorite.”

“I know,” Steve says tersely. “I’m sorry.”

His tone is definitely weird. “I mean, I’m sure it was an accident, Steve–” Eddie starts.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says again, almost snapping this time. “I’ll clean it up.”

“O-kay,” Eddie says slowly, watching as Steve jerks into motion and moves over to the corner where they stash the broom and dust pan.

“I’ll apologize to Wayne when he gets home,” Steve says as he starts sweeping up, even though Eddie hasn’t said a word.

“He gets home at, like, six in the morning.”

“I’ll make sure I’m up,” Steve says shortly.

“Steve, you can just tell him what happened later, he’s not going to stand around demanding an explanation. I mean, seriously, you think Wayne is gonna be pissed if you’re not there, immediately scraping at his feet when he comes through the door?” Eddie scoffs, but Steve remains silent. Eddie watches as he finishes sweeping in short, sharp motions, brows pulling together as Steve apparently fails to pick up on the joke. “…he won’t be, y’know.”

Steve shrugs. His expression has gone eerily blank, and he takes the dustpan over to the garbage can to dump it.

“Hey, don’t–” Eddie reaches out, and Steve jerks to a stop just in time. “You don’t have to toss it, man, we might be able to glue it back together.”

Steve sends Eddie a sharp look. “I’m not gonna be able to hide that it was broken, Eddie,” he says slowly, as though this should be painfully obvious.

“I’m not suggesting we hide it, I’m just saying we might still be able to use it,” Eddie answers in the same slow manner. “It’s not junk until you’re sure you can’t fix it.”

“Right,” Steve snaps, dropping the dustpan on the counter so sharply that the shards of porcelain clink against each other. “Can’t even clean up right.”

Eddie frowns, stirrings of defensiveness rising up in his gut at Steve’s continued sour mood. “I didn’t say that. I just said we might be able to fix it.”

“Fine. We’ll try to fix it,” Steve bites out, turning away from Eddie so he can put the broom back in the corner.

Eddie shakes his head, unwilling to engage with whatever snit Steve’s got himself worked into. “What happened, anyway?” he asks instead.

Apparently, this is the wrong tactic.

“What happened is, I’m too stupid to even do the dishes right,” Steve declares as he whirls back around. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“What?” Eddie is baffled, suddenly caught in the middle of an argument he hadn’t even realized was happening. “No! Why would I want to hear that?”

Steve throws his arms up, a demonstration of giving in. “Well I already said I’m sorry, and I am, and I don’t know what else you want from me!”

The heat of Eddie’s own temper is beginning to flare, but he does his best to shake it away because he still doesn’t know what the hell is going on and he doesn’t think getting angry will help. “I don’t want anything else from you! Why are you acting like I’m yelling at you? I’m not, I’m not even upset about the stupid mug, so what the hell is your deal?”

He takes a couple of steps into the kitchen, reaching out for Steve, hoping just to touch some part of him. Physical contact has always been grounding, has always been a comfort for them both; it almost seems like they can communicate better if they can just be in contact somehow. Instead of reaching back, though, Steve tenses up; it’s not exactly a flinch, but it’s as if he’s bracing himself, as if he’s waiting for Eddie to–

Eddie takes in the painfully blank expression on Steve’s pale face, the way his chest is rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths that he can’t quite seem to control, the way he’s angled himself just slightly away from Eddie, and suddenly Eddie feels cold.

It’s as if he’s waiting for Eddie to hit him.

Eddie wonders how the hell he hadn’t realized he was walking through a minefield until he was already standing in the middle of it.

(It still takes him by surprise, sometimes, that Steve’s anxiety, his panic, tends to look more like anger. That he tends to lash out like a wounded animal when he feels backed into a corner, hurt too many times in moments of vulnerability to do otherwise.)

(It takes him by surprise, but he’s learning.)

“Steve,” Eddie says softly, dropping his hand slowly back to his side, “I’m not angry.”

Steve stares at him, almost confused, like Eddie’s not doing it right, like this isn’t what’s supposed to come next. Eddie sort of wants to break something (he thinks, briefly, that he’d like to start with the fingers on Mr. Harrington’s right hand, and then move on to his left).

“It’s just a mug, Steve, it’s okay. No one’s upset about it,” Eddie says. “I’m preemptively speaking for Wayne, because I know he’s not gonna be mad at you. Seriously, getting upset over a broken cup? Does that sound like something Wayne would do?”

Slowly, once he seems to realize that Eddie is waiting for an answer, Steve shakes his head.

“Does that sound like something I would do?” Eddie asks.

Steve shakes his head again, though he’s still watching Eddie with something approaching trepidation.

“I promise it’s fine. I’m not angry,” Eddie repeats, and chances a couple of steps closer to Steve.

Steve doesn’t react this time, no tensing, no flinching, no verbally lashing out, and so Eddie lifts a hand again, reaching slowly for Steve’s. Steve lets him.

When he gets his fingers wrapped around Steve’s own, Eddie can feel how cold they’ve gone, can feel the fine tremble of adrenaline working through them, and can’t quite choke down the noise of sympathy in his throat. He tugs on Steve’s hand.

“C’mere,” Eddie says, invites him by lifting his other arm, but leaves it up to Steve.

It only takes a moment for Steve to step in close, and when Eddie lets go of his hand to wrap his arms around Steve’s shoulders, Steve reciprocates by cinching his own arms tight around Eddie’s waist. He takes one sharp breath, and then another, and Eddie can hear the way they shake going in and out.

“There you go,” Eddie says quietly, rubbing Steve’s back.

“I just dropped it,” Steve says, his voice a little hoarse. “It was an accident.”

“I know it was,” Eddie assures him. “It’s okay.”

“It was an accident,” Steve says again, and Eddie wonders how often someone has believed him – how often he’d ever even been given a chance to explain.

“It was an accident,” Eddie agrees. “You’re okay, Steve.”

Steve lets out a little noise, like maybe he’s trying to laugh, but then he pulls in another shuddery breath and rests his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. “Okay.”

In a little bit, Eddie might lead Steve to sit down on the couch, or maybe just take them both up to bed, because fuck doing the dishes after this anyway; he’ll make sure to leave a note for Wayne about the mug (ask him not to bring it up until Steve does, to not even jokingly make a thing about it), but for now, he concentrates on holding Steve close.

He’ll stand with him as long as it takes for the shaking to stop, for his breathing to even out, for him to relax even just a little against Eddie, and he'll promise, as many times as Steve needs to hear it, that it’s okay. Things will be okay.

[Prompt: Embracing your partner]

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #eddiesteve #solar wrote #cw child abuse #referenced but does not take place in the fic #cw panic attack #even if it doesn't look like one at first #soft ending though as always I promise

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