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#idk why i did this but *shrug*
waketoearth · 3 months
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20 POSTERS FOR JUNGWON'S 20TH !!!
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zishuge · 5 months
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Today I gave myself feels thinking about Fang Duobing, Di Feisheng, and Hulijing moving on and aging in a world without Li Lianhua. A world where Li Lianhua isn't there — but then again, he is there, in Lianhualou, and in the townspeople who flock to it, bearing gifts for the miracle doctor who once saved a life, fixed a roof, exposed a conman, comforted a child. Young Fang Duobing used to want to know every little detail about his hero, Li Xiangyi. Now Fang Duobing wants to know every detail about his beloved friend, Li Lianhua. The years pass and fewer people come. But if they remember him, Li Lianhua lives on.
(long post, half meta, half fic, bittersweet)
They travel together, with Hulijing, in Lianhualou. Fang Duobing has nothing better to do, so he takes up detective work again. Di Feisheng has nothing better to do, so he comes along. Everywhere they go, they look for Li Lianhua. And in their journeys, it seems like everywhere they go, someone is talking about Li Xiangyi. Li Xiangyi, who had always been something of a legend, but ever since his reappearance and subsequent (re)disappearance, has seemingly been elevated into something approaching godhood.
you should've seen him, people say, floating across the rooftops in red, cold and beautiful, like an avenging hero out of some novel. wasn't he dead? no — of course he wasn't, li xiangyi would never have been so easily killed. but it was bicha poison, i heard nobody could survive bicha poison. yes, he was definitely dead, and came back to life through dark magic. no, he'd been alive the whole time, just held captive by di feisheng. he tried to kill his shixiong ten years ago and failed, and came back to finish the job. no, his shixiong tried to kill the emperor and li xiangyi came to stop him. the emperor? impossible. yes — don't you know, li xiangyi is the emperor's long-lost son?
All of it only amuses Di Feisheng, but it irks Fang Duobing. The same Fang Duobing, who, when he was younger, would've hungered for every little detail about Li Xiangyi and begged to hear more, now finds it maddening to listen to these strangers talk about him as if they knew him. The world might have known Li Xiangyi, but it had never known Li Lianhua.
Li Lianhua, who could wield Shaoshi like it was a natural extension of his arm, but regularly cut his fingers clumsily slicing radishes and onions. Li Lianhua, who would invariably try to shrug off an attack of bicha poison, but yelped and jumped back from hot oil splatters in the kitchen like a child. Li Lianhua, who frowned when a passing carriage splashed mud onto his robes, but knelt carelessly into the dirt and grass to play with Hulijing.
None of them knew any of that.
But as Fang Duobing and Di Feisheng continue their travels, they begin to encounter other people as well. People who come running when they see Lianhualou in the distance tottering their way. People who come bearing gifts — a woman looking for the shenyi who had helped her with her back pain and also exposed the con artist who had tried to trick her daughter into marriage. A young man coming to thank the doctor who had given his father herbs for stress while uncovering the corrupt official who had falsely accused him of theft. An elderly couple looking for the young man who had helped them thatch their roof before a rainstorm and had given them some medicinal cream before he left. (One middle-aged man with a club, looking for the wangba quack doctor who had exposed his infidelity to his wife — he had left after one look at Di Feisheng, standing silently in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest and dao strapped across his back.) People who greet Hulijing like an old friend.
Fang Duobing listens eagerly to every story they tell him, and in return, he tells them about his brilliant, kind, exasperating friend. Di Feisheng rolls his eyes every time, but Fang Duobing notices he never walks away either. They don't talk about it. But it’s as if Li Lianhua returns, however briefly, during those visits; in those moments, Fang Duobing can almost see him standing there, bending down to pet Hulijing alongside these old friends as she grins her little doggy grin and wags her tail. She escorts their guests to the door, and sits in the doorway after they leave, looking out at the world as though waiting. He doesn't ask if Di Feisheng can see him too. They sit and share wine after these visits, and eat the fruit that the visitors bring, until Di Feisheng can stand the heavy silence no longer and pushes Fang Duobing outside to spar. Hulijing follows faithfully, as always.
(fang duobing had brought home a puppy, once. he can't remember where he found it, but he remembers that he had held it in his lap in his wheelchair, eager to show it to his uncle before taking it home to his mother. his uncle had glared, and told him that dogs were only useful to guard the house, and tianji manor already had guards, human ones, and that fang duobing would do better to focus on his swordplay rather than waste time on such useless and frivolous things. he had taken the puppy away and fang duobing had never seen it again. it wasn't until those blurry months as he rode across the countryside looking for li lianhua, hulijing trotting along ever so loyally at his side, that he realized this was just another way that shan gudao and li xiangyi were opposites.)
The years pass, and there are fewer and fewer people who come. One day Fang Duobing wakes up with the unbearable realization that he is now older than Li Lianhua had ever been, would ever be, and is unable to get out of bed for a good half a shichen. Di Feisheng leaves him be.
The years pass, and Di Feisheng grows older too. There are lines on his face, snowy white beginning to thread through his jet-black hair. Fang Duobing wants very much to tease him about it, but the words catch in his throat when he looks too closely at the signs of time on Di Feisheng's face. What a precious and altogether rare thing it is, to age.
The years pass, and Hulijing grows older too. Fang Duobing finds that more and more often, Hulijing can no longer keep up with him when he goes riding. He stops going riding. She gets cold more easily now too, and more and more often Fang Duobing wakes in the morning with Hulijing curled up under the covers next to him, her wet nose shoved into his armpit. He holds her close and thinks about Li Lianhua shivering in his arms.
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It's been nearly a year since their last visitor, but today there is an old man. He comes in the morning, bringing a basket of plums. A long time ago, he says, a young man who lived here saved my life. I had been poisoned, he says, by my son who wanted my money and my lands. The doctors said there was no cure. But then the young man came and performed a miracle. He saved my life. He saved my life.
Fang Duobing knows it was no miracle that saved him. He asks for the old man's hand and it is given readily, albeit bemusedly. He presses his fingers to the inside of the man's wrist, and is greeted with a whisper-faint, gentle thrum of yangzhouman — a soft hello from a much-beloved friend. You fool, he thinks dazedly, caught somewhere between overwhelmed that here is someone, inside whom a piece of Li Lianhua lives on, and so bitterly angry. What had it cost? Some hours, days, weeks? He doesn't let himself think of what another week might have afforded them in those wild final days, in their desperate search for a cure. Fang Duobing gives the old man back his hand and blinks back the sting of tears. He cannot talk about Li Lianhua today. He apologizes and tells him that the man he is looking for is traveling and won't be back for a few days, but that Fang-mou will pass on the message. Before he leaves, the man leans down to rub at Hulijing's ear. My old friend, he says, like me, you, too, are truly old now.
After the man leaves, Fang Duobing folds himself into a sit on the floor of Lianhualou and gathers Hulijing into his arms. Gently — her joints are stiff now, and he can't haul her around, can't roughhouse with her the way he used to. Di Feisheng comes down the stairs from where he had been listening; he stands behind Fang Duobing and places a warm, steady hand on his shoulder. At the edge of his vision, near the door, Fang Duobing can see the hazy hem of green robes. If he looks up, he wonders brokenly, what would he see? The face of a man forever frozen in youth? Or a face lined with age, snowy white beginning to thread through jet-black hair? He suddenly finds that he cannot bear to find out.
Fang Duobing knows. He knows that the myth and the outlandish rumors about proud, arrogant, beautiful Li Xiangyi will never die. But he also knows that one day, there will be no one else who comes to Lianhualou; no one left who remembers gentle, sly, infuriating Li Lianhua. One day, the old man will pass on and the piece of Li Lianhua that he carries with him will fade as well. And one day… Fang Duobing presses his forehead against the soft fur of Hulijing's neck where it has gone white and thin with age. He closes his eyes and breathes.
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Years and years and years later, Fang Duobing is awakened from where he has fallen into a light doze reading in his chair by a soft knock on the door. There is a woman standing outside, holding a small basket of pears. I think I remember this building, she says. I must've only been six years old, but I had run off and lost my parents. I fell down in the street and skinned my knees. A kind gege helped me and gave me a piece of candy. He said he would walk me home but I said I didn't know whether I should tell him where I lived. He laughed and asked if it would help if I knew where he lived. He pointed to the most fantastical and wild house I had ever seen. I think it was this place. Xiansheng, does he live here? Who was he? Do you know him?
Fang Duobing smiles and invites her inside. On the bed, the small white dog that Di Feisheng has named, ridiculously, Baigujing, raises her head and thumps her tail a few times in hello. Di Feisheng looks up from where he is writing a letter at the table. Fang Duobing leads the woman over and waves at her to sit down. He sits across from her, ignoring Di Feisheng's eyeroll, and offers her a piece of candy. He always keeps candy around. Fang Duobing smiles once more and says, if you'd like to know — there is so much I would like to tell you.
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writing-time-bitches · 3 months
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Onward! // Submas drabble
Based on this post by @critterbitter ! Go check it out. Now. 🔫😐
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Zephyr loved his job. He loved being a subway conductor even if the workplace was at times subpar with its safety. Sure the rails needed to be redone, sure the AC sometimes shorted out, and sure people tended to battle on it a few too many times per day but by Arceus’ eighteen plates did he adore the Unovan subway.
The one thing that could possibly outdo his love for trains and railways are children. And there’s a certain trio of kids that come by every time, without fail, when his train comes to a stop in Nimbasa City. They loved the trains almost as much as Zephyr did, particularly the twins. The Sinnohan girl and her Blitzle were quiet, likely due to her language barrier, but they always seemed to be just as excitable.
It was commonplace by now for Zephyr and the kids to exchange greetings when they entered his train. And recently, the Sinnohan has been speaking more too! Zephyr would be lying if he said he didn’t feel like a proud father.
The kids, now with a new companion in the form of dwebble that relaxed in the blitzle’s bags, were seen commonly working on homework when the train was moving. School was starting up again since the summer has drawn to a close. The twins, especially Ingo, would often help their foreign friend with her Galarian and homework.
And today they seemed particularly determined though…
“Right on schedule, Mr. Zephyr!” Emmet and Ingo shouted in tandem, ending off with their hellos. Elesa waved with a grin and their pokemon did the same. Zephyr couldn’t help but let a smile slip through his stoic work facade as he tipped his gray hat at them. They hurriedly approached the subway doors exchanging friendly nods when they entered.
“Oh, by the way…” Zephyr rummaged through his coat pockets and produced four clear plastic bags that were tied with a cute yellow. Blitzle perked and brayed excitedly as he recognized one of the bags’ contents,”I remember you mentioning what treats your pokemon liked so my husband and I made some for you! I apologize if their not the best, I’m not exactly a baker… the sugar cubes are infused with lemon.” Zephyr mentioned, scratching at his growing stubble with an air sheepishness.
Elesa’s and Emmet’s grins grew wider and Ingo produced one of his signature odd Purloin-like smiles. Elesa bowed,”Arigatou! Thank you Mr. Zephyr!” Blitzle drew his lips back in an excited snarl as he sniffed at the bag of sugar, Elesa laughed and sat down in one of the seats close to the door he stood at. The twins were quick to follow her lead.
Zephyr loaded on more passengers, punching their tickets and all, requesting all pokemon larger 3ft be returned to their pokeballs unless they are medically trained. Once the last person was onboard he turned to the twins behind him, and as if they had used Foresight, they turned at the same time. Zephyr didn’t have to say anything they were already jumping to their feet.
Zephyr crouched down and turned on his radio,”Attention all passengers, Line 6 is now departing.” He held the black box towards the boys who screamed into the radio,”ALL ABOOOOAARD!”
All three of them snickered at the yelps and curses of surprises that echoed both within and outside the train. Elesa cackled at a group of teens who turned to glare daggers at Zephyr and the boys while holding their ears.
Emmet grinned with a mischievous triumph, foot tapping,”I am Emmet. I will never grow tired of that.” Ingo nodded in agreement,”Indeed, we owe a gratuitous debt for the times you’ve allowed us to send this train off.”
Zephyr gave a mere chuckle and stood up, straightening his coat,”Ah it’s no big deal. By the way,” he turned to his little passengers,”where are you headed off to this time?”
“Route 10.” Came the synchronized answer. Zephyr’s pale blue eyes widened before a worried frown found its place on his face,”Route 10? Are you sure? You know the cliffs are unstable there… and it right next to the League, plenty of powerful pokemon will be there.” All three nodded their heads, Ingo piped up seemingly having predicted the conductor’s hesitancy,”We are well aware of that. We plan to strictly stay on Boufallant herding trails and on designated hiking trails. And,” he spared a withering glance at his brother,”we will run and hide at the sight of any overly-strong pokemon.” Emmet shrunk at at the glare and exaggerated words,”I am Emmet. I prrrromise to follow the rules.”
Zephyr bite his lip, unconsciously running his hand through the thick brown curled locks of hair under his hat, a few strands fell into his eyes as he glanced between his young passengers,”Are you sure…? Are you going to tell your uncle where you’re going at least?”
Emmet and Elesa gave a shug while Ingo nodded,”That is the first thing we will do when we reach Opelucid. Right Emmet? Elesa?” Under the glare of the eldest twin the two electric-type enthusiasts were quick to nod. Satisfied with their compliance he turned to the other with complete self-assuredness and confidence.
Still, Zephyr couldn’t help but feel a little responsible.
“What if I came with you for part of the hike?” He offered. The trio blinked, apparently having not anticipated that response. Elesa was first to recover,”No need! We handle ourselves perfectly good!” She tried, her Sinnohan accent thick upon her clumsy tongue. Emmet nodded, with his little tynamo sparking,”I am Emmet! Thank you for the offer but no thank you.”
When Ingo hadn’t responded as well the two looked at him with a badly hidden pleas. Ingo, being the ever so responsible young man he was bite the side of cheek in consideration,”… I would not be opposed to the notion…” at that the litwick atop his hat started spewing words a mile-a-minute. Zephyr had no clue what she was saying but from Ingo’s grimace it seemed like something of a scolding. Ingo picked up his ghostly friend and muttered something in argument but the litwick was not hearing it.
Sighing in a dramatic defeat he looked up at the grown he had grown to trust sadly,”I must apologize, it would seem the party’s against a chaperone.” Elesa and Ememt and their pokemon gave a not-so-quiet cheer for independence while Ingo sat in remorseful silence. Zephyr sighed through his nose but gave an understanding smile,”It’s ok, I understand. You’re all growing up to be young adults now, it’s only expected you’d want to go off alone. But promise me one thing, you’ll call your uncle once you’ve reached Route 10’s entrance and when you get back to the city ok?” At that everyone nodded (Litwick gave a begrudging accepting nod and pouted; she will always crave independency and chaos) and Zephyr smiled.
“Good. I hope to see you soon when you’re done.”
Emmet tapped his foot nervously against the cold pavement of the station. Night was starting to fall and the Line 6 train has not arrived yet. Similarly Elesa had begun to pace around the small bench they were seated on, chewing on her already short nails.
Emmet leaned back and complained to his friend,”When is train gonna get heeeeerrrrugh.” He drawled, swinging his legs as he tilted his head to look at his brother who was busy trying to find out why their train was so late. Emmet didn’t like this. Line 6 was never late. Never. Zephyr would never let the subway be so late, especially when he and his friends were supposed to board. Litwick was unusually quiet too, she would definitely be complaining loudly by now but she was statue still as if her wax had cooled off and quiet as the stale wind in the tunnel they were in.
His and Ingo’s moms must be worrying. They should’ve been home by now…
Where the hell was Line 6?
A soft choked gasp erupted unbidden from his brother. Straightening with alarm he and Elesa turned to the eldest of the three,”Ingo? What’s wrong?” Ingo, face sucked pale as the snow that surrounded Iccirus City, turned to face his companions. Emmet felt the unease that was already bubbling in his stomach rise to just underneath his skin at the horrified and grief-stricken look on Ingo’s face. What happ—
“Line 6… had a derailment.”
Two days after the reported crash, the Nimbasan kids stood at the edge of a gathered group of mourners. Their pokemon were tucked in their pokeballs today.
The sun beat down on the group in an almost mockingly cheerful way. Elesa wished the scenery was like what it was in movies. Clouds should be covering the sun, the threat of rainfall thick in the air and congested with sombre music. Not the energetic chirping of pidoves, the yawns of sewaddles and swadloons or the cheerful floating of nearby whismsicott.
It should be depressing. Not single sound should be heard but the barely contained sniffles and sobs of the grieving.
Elesa glanced at the tombstone’s writing: Here lies Zephyr Harrison, loving son, brother and husband. 19xx - 19xx.
Elesa quickly has to look away, hands gripping each other tightly enough that she could feel her nails dig into her skin. She couldn’t bear to think about the kind train conductor who smiled at her proudly whenever she spoke a sentence in galarian, or the man who had given all of them tailor-made gray conductor hats that matched his. She couldn’t bear to think of the man who felt like a doting older brother or a second father.
Next to her Emmet was swaying a little too hard, almost tipping to fall on his face one too many times, and staring— no, glaring— at the earth beneath him like it had wronged him in some inexcusable way. His smile was no where to be seen, replaced by a tight, wobbly straight line instead. His eyes were misty with unshed tears.
Ingo wasn’t much better. His face was schooled into a mask of indifference as he stared distantly past the grave and stock still like a statue. The only thing that told you he was alive was the uneven and short breaths he was taking, as if trying to not burst into fat ugly tears.
To be honest, Elesa was trying to not do the same. She never noticed how constant Zephyr was in their lives until he was 6 feet in the ground. Her mind couldn’t stop replaying all the little moments she had shared with the older man, his fond smiles and the proud glimmer in his eyes, other tics the man had. Like adjusting his hat just before leaving to the control car, or carting his hand through his hair, or how his eye twitched every time he dealt with a Karen on his train. The slightly off-center quirked lips in his teethy grins.
Grief burrowed itself deeper in her heart when she realized she was never going to feel Zephyr’s hand ruffled her hair with unsaid affection.
Elesa was going to miss Zephyr.
The twins were going to miss Zephyr.
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worstloki · 10 months
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something very horrifying about the concept of Thor but not Loki being told that Loki is Jotun when the brothers are old enough to understand the importance of the secret
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mattodore · 8 months
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morning kisses <3
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p4nishers · 1 year
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i need content of codywan that just started working together like the first few months where their dynamic is cody barely resisting the urge to strangle his general and obi wan being like. already fucking head over heels for him.
like cody was expecting someone highly impressive based on his records so he obviously is excited to work with him cause his batchmates already met him on kamino and genosis and they all liked him which was, looking back, probably a prank on codys sanity and his bastard gremlin vode were absulately dying laughing at him. anyway so he obviously has high expectations and then this slutty "hello there" mf turns up with no self-preservation whatsoever, a feral demon child of a padawan, half the republic tailing him for every bullshit imaginable and beef with EVERY SINGLE SITH EVER???? WHICH HE SOLVES BY ???? FUCKING FLIRTING WITH THEM????? so you can imagine codys not having a great time.
meanwhile, obi wan daydreams about cody constantly. draws up their wedding invitations before even meeting him. praises him every opportunity he gets. kicks his feet and giggles about codys sarcastic comments ABOUT HIM while being in a room with CODY. stops talking in the middle of his sentence when he spots cody across the room and waves at him with the biggest smile possible. sets up regular sparring practices with the vode just so he MIGHT have an opportunity to be close to cody. labels the time when cody accidentally fell on him because of an explosion and touched his lips for 0.00001 milliseconds as their first kiss and gossips about it to quinlan. calls bant regularly to update her on everything cody does ever. buys every kind of tea and caf he can afford as an excuse to talk to cody and go into his courters. flirts with cody 24/7 and blushes tomato red when cody smirks at him and thinks about it so much he constantly walks into walls and tables and chairs and shinies and. breaks a table after cody stubs his toe into it. passes the fuck out when cody carries him this one (1) time, not bc of blood loss or anything simply too much attraction. constantly searches the force for codys signature even when they're not in the same system. calls him disgustingly sappy petnames in every other sentence. corners all of codys batchmates and asks thousands of questions about cody bc he cannot get them out of the man for the life of him and yes, wolffe, he absulately will die without knowing codys favorite color what kind of question is that. cody smiles once a month and obi wan thanks him everytime. cody hands him back his lightsaber for the first time and he proposes, loudly, cody ignores him completely and walks away. convinces anakin and ahsoka to drop "subtle" hints that he would be a good husband.
and everyone around them is having the time of their life watching codys right eye twitch whenever he's in a room with kenobi long enough while the man himself doesn't take his eyes off the commander during the entire 4 hour meeting and blushes everytime cody looks at him without a fail. cody barely refrains from throwing his datapad at his general when he suggests some self-sacrificing bullshit again.
it's truly like:
obi wan, beaming and eyes possibly gleaming with adoration: hello there, cody. how are you today?
cody, grinding his teeth together: fine, sir. wanted to talk to you about this report cause it's seems to be mistaken. surely, you're not thinking of blowing yourself up just so that TWO man, who are not even in any immediate danger whatsoever, can escape. right?
obi wan, brightening even further bc he loves their daily "banter": oh but of course, my dear, they're valuable men and anyway, i promised anakin he'd get to use the explosives this time.
cody, right eye starting to twitch horribly: right, of course, stupid of me to ask. one more thing, general, you wouldn't decommission me for anything i do, would you, sir ?
obi wan: what– darling, of course not. why would you–
cody: alright then [punches obi wan then walks away]
obi wan:
obi wan: i'm so in love with that man.
it's said that to this day obi wan still giggles in the most inappropriate times about that punch because cody was SO HANDSOME YOU DONT GET IT MACE THE LIGHT HIT HIM JUST RIGHT AND–
anyway codys hatred lasts till obi wan saves rex by putting himself in danger and when they get back, both bruised and bloody but amazingly alive and obi wan smiles at him like he always does with rex draped across his scarred shoulder, something in cody just settles and thinks. oh. oh. so this is what bly was talking about.
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honeybeeffdrawshere · 1 month
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old comic
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johannacantsing · 3 months
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i recently decided to become obsessed with haikyuu!! again ........
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todayisafridaynight · 12 days
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i wanna somehow see mines like LIVE reaction to hearing news abt daigo being comatose IM SO CURIOUS ABT HOW HE REACTED like he was definitely tweaking but i just wanna see it in kiwami 3 somehow.. idk how they’d incorporate it but i want it nonetheless
so funny cause i was just thinking about how mine must've reacted to the news about daigo .....
idk how or if yk3 would inject that idea, but itd be fun to see i think
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my doctor was sooooo fucking worthless and unhelpful im going to masturbate and i hope it fucking kills me
#“no need for follow up”#“yeah you did have several cysts we scrapped off your remaining ovary but. dw about it. idk why they were there. dw about it. oh also your#ovary on that side was freakishly huge but. dw about it. it might go away. dw about it#*doctor shrug emoji* “#“go see a gyno next year maybe. but not me im too important for that. go find and onboard a gyno to your situation. next year maybe idk lol”#he barely even looked at my incision like#this fucking appointment could have been an email. or a phone call. or they just could have let me start driving again. also i forgot to ask#if i can stop drinking ensure now or after the 6 weeks? cause that shit cost $$$$. but he probably would have been super unhelpful if i had#fr fr this guy only wanted to give me the time of day when he thought i might have fun cancer inside and now he's like gtfo!!!! get your#fugly cancerless ass out of here!!!! recover from a major surgery on your own you swagless cancerless loser 🤣 we arent helping your#swagless ass!!!#anyway it seems weird and fucked up that im was never offered to see a physical therapist and i guess am going to have to blindly trust my#abs they sliced thru are healing or whatever and to rawdog my own physical recovery of my muscles? even just dumb shit like. my center of#gravity has drastically changed since the mass removal and my back hurts like shit all the time because all my posture muscles were built up#for when i had an extra 30 pounds of cyst hanging in the front and my posture and walking reflected that. and i lowkey don't know how#hard i am able to be with my healing incision because its really tight and makes me hunch forwards still. like i would really like to know#how much i can safely or maybe should be forcing my skin and incision to stretch. without damage? is that crazy#am i crazy???#this shit is why i didnt see a doctor for 2 years until my problems had snowballed into a 30 pounds ovarian cyst that was crushing my other#organs and had one of my kidneys all backed up with piss. and even getting emergency treatment for it everyone was like. how did you like it#get this bad?? how could you not know you needed to seek medical treatment???? like. bro. seeking medical treatment isnt even a guarantee to#get medical treatment.#anyway he said my “remaining ovary seemed low key polycystic but dw about it. don't quote me on that im not dealing with it.”#bro i dont want to doctor google it i wanted an actual doctor to deal with it. fuck you.#like. maybe even a doctor who knows my situation so i dont have to struggle with getting someone to believe me and take me seriously.#but whatever. back to trying to figure out the daily protein and extra calories my body needs for recovery via doctor google i guess.#its fine 🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬
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derpinette · 2 months
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whenever a guy approaches me i start wishing i had a giant forehead tattoo that reads "I AM NOT & WILL NEVER EVER BE INTERESTED LEAVE ME ALONE PERMANENTLY" so i could flash it at them
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perenlop · 11 months
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i get the frustration with so many villains now getting treatment like “oh they had a sucky childhood so actually you need to feel bad for them and not hold them accountable for their actions” but the counter of “this person was born evil and cant ever grow and its pathetic to assume that they can, also people cant be redeemed no matter what and this is fantastic writing actually” is so exhausting. 
#like... no one is born grinning maliciously with a knife out the womb. no one starts out that way#and anything thats ever tried to portray a character that way at birth has only ever been ironically funny#idk its annoying when people are like ''actually its more interesting that the character doesnt have a motive for killing people''#like. coming off of bullet train rn but even ''this character otherwise has a perfect life but they accidentally killed and now theyre#fascinated with all the ways people can die'' is more interesting than ''idk thats just how they are *shrugs*''#like yes someone can have the perfect upbringing and social life and still turn out to be sadistic but you can still work with that#as opposed to ''they were born evil thats just how they were always gonna be SORRY''#like. idk go into that ''perfect social life and family''. what did that family value? what were the friends like?#what did that person experience outside of those things? what did they consume?#did their social standing actually breed some sort of entitlement to them? do they perhaps freak out if something doesnt go their way?#are they insecure deep down? does that drive them to it? are they a perfectionist? do they assume peoples feelings?#i remember reading this wc fancomic that explained why a character was evil and like her mom died#and the attention from her mothers death made her obsessed with being fawned over so she started medical abuse#and letting her patients die so that people would fawn over her the same way every time#and the op was like ''HEY before you yell at me shes NOT evil bc her mom died ok she was gonna turn out evil no matter what''#like... no no go into the emotional vulnerability implied there. go into the morbid introduction to slow death at a young age#go into the potential desensitization go into that. youre already willing to make her multifauceted and with positive traits#why are you afraid of implying shes even SOMEWHAT sympathetic and just want to say she was gonna do that regardless#and i fault the atmosphere around this stuff most of all like we should never have implied that giving a villain a reason to be evil#was stupid woobifying bullshit that was out of touch with reality#echoed voice
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marshmellowtea · 5 months
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i keep wanting to put transfem!will in balletcore outfits in my head
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banana-pancake5 · 5 months
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Dude you have no fucking clue how much i love your edits, they make the brain go brrrrrrrrrrr yknkw? Also hello new mutual :33
HI!!! cnjdcndjcnskndcsjindcijncsdjinscijnedc I LOVE YOUR EDITS TOO!! ALSO TY TY TY TY TY TY!!!
Yk what’s funny? I was just about to send you an ask saying thank you for reblogging all my edits!
And Hello new mutual! ^-^
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floorpancakes · 29 days
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take my unbiased ranking of various ships
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shredsandpatches · 6 months
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sunday snippet (or I'll in piecemeal tear thy flesh edition)
Did some writing on the Helen of Troy fic this week so have some toxic hellbound boyfriends. Obviously some pretty abusive behavior going on in this section which does come with the territory for this pairing.
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"You sound almost penitent," Mephistopheles says, unamused.
"What if I am?" Faustus says, cursing the tremor in his voice: he already knows the answer. Mephistopheles' mouth twists a little, and he takes hold of Faustus' wrist, clucking his tongue almost affectionately.
"We've discussed this," Mephistopheles says. He tightens his grip on Faustus' wrist, and the scar on Faustus' forearm splits open and soaks his shirtsleeve. His blood does not congeal as it had on the day he'd given himself the wound, almost twenty-four years ago. It feels as though every nerve in Faustus' body has frizzled like a hair in a flame; it feels like the sight of Judas' intestines spilling from his midriff in the passion play; it feels like the words sit sanguis eorum super eos sinking into his soul; it feels like the plague pits outside Roda; it feels like the knights' blades as they sliced through his neck. His forehead and palms are covered in sweat and it's tinged with blood when it runs into his eyes and stings. He cries out in pain and when Mephistopheles releases him he collapses, panting, and the sharp contact with the floorboards is almost a relief.
"You're right," Faustus manages, though his chest and throat have been scraped raw. "Please. I'm sorry. Tell your—our lord—I'm—" He rubs his palm against his thigh and then presses it to his eyes. "I don't know what it is, that man got to me—"
"Shhhh." Mephistopheles crouches down to maneuver Faustus' head into his lap, and his fingers are in Faustus' hair now, exquisitely gentle. Faustus curls around himself, blinking back tears. "I know you have doubts—but I couldn't bear it if I had to tear you apart now, my Faustus. We have so little time left."
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