#Silence is a virtue

[anomalyunfound]

"oh! My name is Jane,jane jackson. Um your grandfather's younger sister in a way...he probably didn't ever mention me since he had thought that i died long time ago"

-jane jackson

You’re grandpa’s sister? I didn’t even know he had a sister! That makes you my great aunt right? Why did no one mention you?

[shy-sapphic-ace]

List of queer books I read, loved & recommend!

(There isn't any particular order, I wrote these as I remembered them)

Master Of One - Jaida Jones & Dani Bennett (mlm, fantasy, very cool worldbuilding and magic system, funny, cool characters)

Legends & Lattes - Travis Baldree (wlw, fantasy, very soft & chill vibes)

The Priory of the Orange Tree - Samantha Shannon (wlw, high fantasy, cool worldbuilding, kinda reminds me of LOTR but with more dragons and feminism and lesbians)

Even Though I Knew The End - C.L. Polk (wlw, supernatural noir, cool 1930s detective story with angels & demons, I loved this one!)

The Love Interest - Cale Dietrich (mlm, science fiction, very cool concept)

The Darkest Part Of The Forest - Holly Black (side mlm, fantasy, cool fae lore)

The Weight Of The Stars - K. Ancrum (wlw, not quite science fiction but space stuff is involved, lovely and complex characters)

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe - Benjamin Alire Sáenz (mlm, fiction, very nice in general, there is also a sequel)

The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue - Mackenzi Lee (mlm, historical and vaguely fantasy, nice story but I preferred the sequel honestly)

The Lady's Guide to Petticoats and Piracy - Mackenzi Lee (wlw, the sequel to the one before, more fantasy elements than the first, asexual main character!!)

Gallant - V.E. Schwab (no romance, but in the background one of the characters(?) uses they/them pronouns, very cool dark fantasy vibe)

Stranger Than Fanfiction - Chris Colfer (gay main character, trans main character, coming-of-age, nice book)

Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda (yes it's the Love, Simon book, mlm, fiction, pretty nice)

They Both Die At The End - Adam Silvera (mlm, sci-fi ish but mostly fiction, cool ideas, but the ending is sad! Very amazing book though, I haven't read the prequel yet)

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo - Taylor Jenkins Reid (wlw, bi main character, historical fiction, cool story, just a neat book in general)

This Is How You Lose The Time War - Amal El-Mohtar & Max Gladstone (wlw, sci-fi, very cool time travel stuff!! and very beautiful, it felt like reading poetry most of the time)

One Last Stop - Casey McQuinston (wlw, background trans & pan & queer characters, sci-fi or fantasy idk, but time travel, I loooved this book, great)

The House In The Cerulean Sea - TJ Klune (mlm, fantasy, THIS BOOK oh my gosh you should read it!!, just cute and lovely and good)

Under The Whispering Door - TJ Klune (mlm, fantasy, this book is also sooo amazing, great character development and awesome relationships and stuff, it's been a while since I read it but it was so good)

In the Lives of Puppets - TJ Klune (mlm, ace main character!!, sci-fi, now THIS is found family, oughh feelings. argh, tj klune you’ve done it again, a human and his family of funky robots… I love them)

And They Lived... - Steven Salvatore (nblm, fiction, about gender identity and learning to love yourself, read it a while ago but it was very nice)

I Wish You All The Best - Mason Deaver (nblm, fiction, about finding your identity and people who care about you, very cute and sweet)

The Song Of Achilles - Madeleine Miller (mlm, historical, very good in general)

Carry On - Rainbow Rowell (mlm, background wlw in the third book, fantasy, it's a trilogy, basically Harry Potter if it was gay and also better)

Silver In The Wood - Emily Tesh (mlm, fantasy, very pretty, lots of fae stuff and lovely descriptions, it has a really good sequel too)

Pretty much anything by Alice Oseman (all cute and lovely and great, though I've only read Radio Silence so far I hear only good things, Solitaire is on my to-read list)

I Kissed Shara Wheeler - Casey McQuinston (wlw, fiction, it's been a while but I liked this book)

The Falling In Love Montage - Ciara Smyth (wlw, fiction, this book was so cute and funny and deeply emotional it made me Feel way too many things, I'd definitely recommend it)

What Big Teeth - Rose Szabo (a bit of queerness all around, fantasy, werewolves and monsters, this one was pretty cool!, lots of original ideas for the world/character building)

His Quiet Agent - Ada Maria Soto (mlm, asexual, fiction, about like spies but this book was so gentle and sweet I wanted to cry in the best way possible)

Some By Virtue Fall - Alexandra Rowland (wlw, historical fiction(?), theatre drama!! rival romance!! duels!!, a very good read in general)

Don’t Want You Like a Best Friend - Emma R. Alban (wlw, historical fiction, I’m not usually one for regency romances, but I really liked this!!, very cute and lots of drama, and there’s a sequel coming out soon!)

[solarstranger]

a/n. i'm starting to realize it's impossible to write anything but angst and/or hurt/comfort when you're just starting to explore one's characterization because of all the data on one's internal conflicts and cognitive functions. shouto is a very daunting character to tackle, and while i did as much research as i could into his psyche, i'm still half-and-half about my approach with him (get it?). still, i hope you enjoy this! (1.1k)

in hindsight, shouto would’ve probably slept through the entire duration of the car ride and then some if it weren’t for the begrudging ‘oi’ that he didn’t quite catch, followed by the not-so-friendly, sobering punch to the shoulder that he did catch—effectively startling him awake, much to his drunken chagrin.

“i’m not asking you again,” comes the ash-blonde’s familiar warning not even a second later, although shouto knows better than to rush himself to get out and into what seems to be his condominium complex in his inebriation. even in his intoxicated haze, it’s obvious which would grant him more of a deafening earful between being a slowpoke and puking over his close friend’s brand-new porsche.

still, nobody said he wouldn’t get one either way, although he supposes he’s lucky bakugou’s only muttering something about his “fucking” luck being the designated driver for tonight instead of shouting expletives in his sensitive, already-throbbing-from-the-alcohol ears.

“thanks,” shouto mumbles more to himself than bakugou as he scoops his backpack from the backseat, careful not to make any sudden, mind-shifting movements lest he ends up hitting two dynamight-shaped birds with one stone.

“whatever. it’s nothing,” comes the ash-blonde’s relatively good-natured reply, a seemingly harmless retort that any ordinary person would look past—although shouto surmises he’s far from being ordinary, and that bakugou is anything but effortlessly good-natured.

which could only mean one thing—

“shouto.”

despite himself, and the fact that he saw this coming from about three meters away, shouto tenses in his seat.

“…what,” the half-and-half hero eventually manages to get out, not stopping his shifting to gather his belongings. he needs to get the fuck out of here—asap.

“you know i don’t like being all up in anybody’s fucking business,” bakugou starts—cautious—and it takes everything in shouto not to further stiffen at the former’s introductory spiel. still, he forces out a grunt as he hurriedly stuffs his phone into his bag’s front pocket.

any minute now.

“and i hate that i have to be the one to fucking ask this, but—” the ash-blonde sighs, shaking his head, before fixing his gaze firmly onto the bi-eyed male. “is everything okay at home?”

shouto barely bites back a choke.

thankfully, he manages to gather his bearings quicker than he’d usually expect from himself in this state. “of course.”

at that, bakugou’s features twitch ever so minutely, as if trying to fight back a frown. similarly, shouto resists the urge to unlock the door and bolt—to where, he doesn’t know.

the ash-blonde opens his mouth to say something, although whatever he was planning to state dies in his throat because he visibly hesitates, before pulling his lips into a tight line.

“if you say so,” bakugou finally shrugs—resigned—turning his torso towards the steering wheel. “now, get the fuck out of here.”

it takes shouto approximately three minutes of frustrated silence to find his key, insert it into the hole, and finally unlock the door knob—a fact that he’d normally not get embarrassed by—just slightly bothered, maybe, if he were alone.

something he realizes he most definitely isn’t—the moment his eyes land on the couch.

or, rather, the image of you curled up comfortably on the couch, your tired face regrettably turned towards him.

jesus. when did you looking at him start becoming something regrettable?

“shouto?”

“y-yeah, it’s me,” the pro-hero finds himself saying anyway, before toeing off his shoes by the foyer and dropping his backpack on the floor. and, before he can talk himself out of it, he quietly steps towards your spacious living room, until he’s kneeling right in front of where you’re lying, still wordlessly looming over your bent frame despite already being on his knees.

the instant he arrives at the position, though, he realizes his rookie mistake.

“have you been drinking?” you suddenly ask, at—probably, the first whiff of him—lips that were once formed into an unsure smile now turned downwards, before propping yourself further upright on your elbow.

and, because there’s not much he can say to that but the full and honest truth, shouto nods.

your frown, however, only deepens. “i-is it because of what i said earlier today?”

at the mention of this morning, shouto bristles, a reaction that unfortunately doesn’t go unnoticed by you, who only stares at him, lethargy long tossed out of the metaphorical window, and what were once drowsy eyes now wide awake.

“shouto,” you try again, finally stirring to sit up, “when i said that, i didn’t mean to—”

“i know,” he cuts you off before he can think better against it, not sure exactly what he’s asserting he knows.

he could guess, although theorizing why you suggested you start doing couples therapy isn’t exactly his idea of a fun time at the moment.

nor is the foreboding—not to mention terrifying—thought that he’s becoming his father’s son, and that your relationship is as doomed to fail as his parents’.

“i don’t know what you’re thinking right now, but i can tell it’s not something good.”

surprised, shouto looks up to meet your gaze, his bewilderment only increasing tenfold when he merely finds you peering fondly at him, as if he didn’t just hurt you with his unintentional callousness earlier this morning when you brought up the suggestion, or with everything else that has led you to the suggestion in the first place, which—frankly—he’s not exactly ready to face at present.

“i got you, didn’t i?” you grin—despite the situation—and shouto finds himself relaxing at the sight of you, even more so when you reach out to cup his cheek, nestling further into your hold like this morning didn’t just happen.

you probably stay that way for a few minutes—with shouto’s big hands planted firmly on your blanketed hips while yours caress his smooth cheeks—at least, up until shouto shifts on his knees and clears his throat.

“i-i’m sorry,” he begins, voice gruff with disuse, focus downcast, “that i went drinking again.”

“i know.”

“i g-guess your proposition just took me by surprise,” shouto finds himself admitting, absentmindedly rubbing soothing circles on your clothed flesh—perhaps more to ground himself than anything.

“i didn’t mean to hurt you by bringing that up,” you murmur honestly, shaking your head. “i only want what i think is best for us. always.”

“i know,” shouto nods, before leaning in to press a soft peck on your lips. “me, too, love. me, too.”

˗ˏˋ while likes are appreciated, they don’t do much on tumblr! if you want to support me and writers in general, reblogs, replies, and tags are the way to go. feel free to drop an ask, too—i’d love to chat. have a nice day! ´ˎ˗

[voxtekenterprises]

"Here's my redesign for this Hazbin Hotel character, a show that I hate and find stupid and edgy and ridiculous and offensive and that I, God's favourite, could do so much better with stellar writing and designs and everything else. I was forced at gunpoint to watch the show by its creator, who is the worst woman that ever walked the Earth, but this character I drew is so special and good and close to me, they don't deserve being in this horrible show

#Hazbin Hotel #Hazbin Hotel Critical #Anti Hazbin Hotel #I am obsessed with this show even though I hate it so much"

[remnants]

duke thomas doesn't need an airheaded billionaire persona. all he needs to do is hit em with the "so because i'm black i must be the signal? 🤨😒" and he'll have all of gotham SILENT.

[toptensupakorn]

best thing about this week's ep is everyone finally knows why it's called my stand-in

[acknowledgetheabsurd]

No letter from you, my darling. It's very hard. But all I wish is that this silence does not mean that you are down. For the rest, I will wait, I'll wait as long as it takes. The day has been beautiful and sweet, the evening is falling now, I long for your tenderness, I long for one of those hours when life marks a truce. I feel a more relaxed heart today by the way. Yes, you are right, it's the evenings in Ermenonville that we have to think about. And I think about it, I always think about it to find the courage I need until the end of the month. 

Today, Vivet*, one of my Combat foals, came to lunch. You know him, we saw him at Ermenonville. He's a nice guy that I like. He told me stories about Combat**, the change of ownership, the ugly kitchen, etc. This is the end of a beautiful story. Because it was a beautiful story. And I was still attached to that newspaper - one of the few clean things I had been able to create. On the other hand, it's better that the liquidation is complete. Other than that, we laughed together, and I felt comforted by those few moments with a normal man. I usually benefit from the company of my sister-in-law. It is the kind that if, to better welcome her, one serves filet at the table, she only says: "At home, we only eat pot-au-feu." You can see it from here. But I smile imperturbably, for the sake of my good man of a brother. 

You know, I firmly hope to be canonized one day. I reek of virtue. My darling, my sweet love, what's become of you? Where are you? Are you not tired of my letters, of this man so distant and so disappointing. Do you still love me? Oh, I want so much to hear you say it. But it will come. And until then I expect nothing but the certainty that your heart breathes and lives. Take good care of yourself, at least. Think about the physical, about your health. For the moment, that's the most important. 

I count the days now, one by one, the last one will have your face. I worked badly today (Vivet). But last night, waking up, ideas came to me, which I wrote down and which gave a sharper form to what I want to do. I went back to sleep, thinking of you. Write, my dear heart, my beautiful love, if you can. Tell me the details, but also your heart. Don't forget the one who loves you and who is waiting for you, impatiently. Ah! I sometimes stomp with rage at the slowness of time. But here you are, aren't you? I feel you against me and the long exile is over. The kisses rain down on your dear face. See you tomorrow, my dearest love. I love you.

Albert Camus to Maria Casarès, Correspondance, March 2, 1950 [#226]

* Jean-Pierre Vivet (1920-1998), a former collaborator of Combat, who later led a career as a journalist and editor.

** After the departure of Pascal Pia, Albert Camus left Combat management himself on June 3, 1948, noting the commercial failure of the newspaper and the debates it aroused around its political position.

[quinloki]

your confidence in this space at your age is the most uplifting thing for me to see, as someone in their early 30s struggling with the fact that so many of the creators around me are 10+ years younger than me. you handle so much with the wisdom of someone who's just been the fuck through it, and while i think of myself as someone with a good head on their shoulders, it's refreshing and makes me just that much more comfortable in MY spaces. it's genuinely so wonderful to feel a kindred spark with somebody's vibe. we're not mutuals, and i'd never ask to be, but i'm really glad you're around.

Holy shit, thank you for saying this!

And yeah, I’ve certainly been through it. And “it” is carrying a heavy load, for better or worse. ^^;

I remember being an age and seeing people younger just blow what I could do out of the water. It’s hard as fuck to rail against that - your internal monologue can mess you up, and it’s hard to shut that shit up.

I set my tools down for a long time. I still struggle with enjoying my art, but I enjoy drawing, and I’m trying to focus on the pleasure of the action and not the technicality of “good or bad” of the result.

I got there with my writing. But that was a war in the proverbial trenches of a good ten years.

I also decided I wasn’t going to worry about what the newest person in the socials was doing. And that took a lot of work, I still falter a little bit here and there. The hardest thing probably is not comparing yourself to other people - cause they’re cool, and amazing, and I promise probably struggling just as much as you in one way or another.

But you can’t control other people.

You can only control yourself. Your skill. Your effort. Your results. Your growth.

You can Effect other people - talk them down or up, support them or ignore them, cheer them on or guilt them, but you can’t control how they’re gonna react to that.

You might break the kindest soul, or inspire cruelty.

I’m not perfect, I fuck up and who I am isn’t going to be something everyone can stomach - for a LOT of different reasons (and hey, that’s okay! It’s impossible to get along with everyone, we’re just too different and varied and that’s more awesome than awful). But I gotta be me. I have to. I spent Decades Figuring out who I even was, I’m not going to let anyone else decide who I am.

It comes out as confidence, but if I’mma be a little brutal, it’s more desperation than anything else.

I just don’t want to go back to who I was. I don’t want to sob at my desk because “why do I even bother?” Is the only thing I can hear when I try to write or draw or speak or socialize.

Ah bugger, I went and got pretty preachy and loquacious, apologies for that 😅

But also like, hit me up in dm’s or something. If we vibe we vibe, and I’d love to be moots =3

[anomalyunfound]

(OOC: drafted up a quick family chart for this blog’s version of the boys!)

[notarealwelder]

current events and public commentary thereon make me want to Post. that would be unwise.

[divinele]

🥀pacienca✨

[solarstranger]

a/n. i watched blue lock—right up to episode 3, i think, and quit because i got so upset over the friend getting eliminated. still, i had the audacity to write this because one of my best friends loves bachira, and i was feeling pretty reckless and mischievous tonight. i did as much research as i could into his personality, but if my characterization is wonky, blame it on my not having watched this show lmao. still, i hope you enjoy this (because i hear he lacks non-smut fics). (1.0k)

it’s approximately by the fourth attempt—not that you’ve been counting; it’s your phone that’s been keeping track with its upticking number on the annoyingly glaring screen—that you finally answer, silencing the incessant ringing, leaving you in the comfortable yet uncanny quiet of your modest apartment.

although the quiet doesn’t get to last for too long, because it’s almost instantly interrupted by an all-too-familiar voice, albeit sounding somewhat tinny and mildly frantic through your speakers.

“hey,” you answer, immediately deciding that your voice is too soft—too vulnerable—for your own liking. clearing your throat, you try again. “hi, megs.”

“y/n,” he huffs through the phone, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s been running. “are you home?”

at that, you falter—you don’t know what he’s going to do with the information if he does find out that you are—a reaction that instantaneously sends a pang of guilt to your stomach at your brain’s timely reminder that this is your boyfriend, not a harmful, threatening stranger that’ll take advantage of your being home alone and relatively defenseless.

still, there’s no denying the fear that’s thrumming against your rib cage—and it’s this ugly thought that would’ve sent you into a downward spiral if it weren’t for the fact that you’ve already had one an hour ago—at the decidedly barren bus station outside your university under the crawling night sky, exhausted, scared, and mind-crushingly disappointed with no way of getting home.

you gulp. you’ve already stalled too much—you can practically hear him waiting, antsy, on the other line.

“yeah,” you manage to croak out, chest slightly deflating in relief at your own honesty. “i’m home.”

“great," comes his instantaneous, albeit still somewhat winded reply, “i’m in the elevators now.”

you blanch. “what—”

your question gets interrupted with a loud ding on his end, a sound that you don’t have to think much about to identify. your heartbeat quickens despite yourself.

“megs,” you start, standing up from your sofa, “i don’t think right now is the best—”

“i’m outside your door,” he cuts you off, sounding like he just sprinted to your unit.

you curse to yourself, but not before making sure you’ve pressed the end button—forfeiting the call—patting down your hair as you half-walk, half-jog towards your entryway.

and, before you can even think better against it, you undo the lock, turn the knob, and swing the door open.

“hey,” he breathes out at the sight of you, and the first thing you notice are the beads of sweat trickling down his temples.

“hey,” you parrot, unable to keep yourself from frowning. he’s changed out of his jersey—decked in a plain off-white shirt and jeans, with a green windbreaker that’s probably causing him more discomfort than good at the moment. “why are you—i mean, what brought you here?”

“you weren’t answering your phone,” he retorts as-a-matter-of-factly, eyeing your place through your shoulder. “i thought something happened to you.”

“n-nothing happened to me,” comes your immediate, quiet response, gaze downcast onto your slipper-clad feet. the last thing you want—scratch that, need—right now is to peer into searching, yellow irises.

“really?” he rasps—to your chagrin—tone hesitant and oddly clueless. “because you’re normally so good at updating me whenever—”

you snort.

he visibly wavers. “is something wro—”

“are you seriously being for real right now?”

at that, bachira gapes at you, the sight of which only fuels your irritation even further.

you shake your head, somehow already resigned. “the fact that i even have to spell it out for you tells me everything i need to know.”

“w-what are you talking about?” he asks, exasperation leaking into his voice. “i came here as fast as i could ‘cause i couldn’t reach you after so many attempts. i’ve been trying to call you back since you left six missed calls and i—”

bachira suddenly trails off, and you glance up just in time to see the look of realization dawning on his boyish features.

“…shit.”

you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, letting the weight of his mistake hang in the humid air.

you probably stand there for a good few minutes, the hallways deafeningly silent except for the occasional chime of the building’s elevators.

it’s bachira, though, who ultimately breaks the lull.

“i-i’m sorry, y/n,” he begins, brows furrowed in what you can only assume is regret. “practice was hectic and the guys kept on talking about letting off some steam right after and roped me into it, that i completely forgot i was supposed to pick you up from school.”

obviously, you think to yourself. instead, you bite your tongue, fighting to keep your gaze on his face.

“did a friend offer you a ride?” he continues when you don’t say something, lips pulled taut into a frown. “how did you get home?”

you hesitate for a moment, before ultimately deciding to go with the truth.

“nagi offered to drive me home,” you answer honestly.

the second that you do, though, it’s instantly clear that it was the wrong thing to say.

“i see,” comes his curt reply, and you don’t know what it is about it, but it happens before you can stop yourself.

you snap.

“i’m not doing this with you right now, meguru.”

and when he doesn’t say anything back: “seriously?” you laugh, throwing your hands up. “you don’t get to be mad at me right now, not after you literally forgot to pick me up on the day of my thesis defense and—”

“i know, i know—i fucked up. and i’m sorry. but nagi?” he spews—disgustedly—as if just the name itself physically hurts him to say. “you know how i feel about you hanging out with him.”

“so i was just supposed to let myself get stranded in the streets at night so i can protect your fragile ego, is that it?”

bachira tenses.

at the sight of his stiff frame, you falter, before deciding to dial back. “i-i mean—”

“i get it,” he interjects, gold eyes trained firmly on the ground, refusing to meet yours. “you’ve made it absolutely clear.”

˗ˏˋ while likes are appreciated, they don’t do much on tumblr! if you want to support me and writers in general, reblogs, replies, and tags are the way to go. feel free to drop an ask, too—i’d love to chat. have a nice day! ´ˎ˗

[riarnu]

this one mangaka i'm working for is always knocking the wind out of me bcus he wants to load as much text as humanly possible on every single page and ofc a lot of it has to be cleaned bcus he handwrites or embeds it

[minjaefreedom]

this was so touching........demon hunter loves his baby brother so much that he asks a demon for help........and yet it's his death that causes that same beloved brother to live in a nightmare anyway 💔

[virtue-and-beneviolence]

Its crazy how I'm actually better than everyone without my taste in music and aesthetic how do thry leave the house not looking like me smh sksksksk

[epicdogymoment]

horrible metal grinding noise and whirring and other assorted sounds of struggling machinery. a single lightbulb lights up over my head. oh yeah that was funny huh