#Touch and Write Pen

[akshayaquapri]

Ballpoint Pen with Stylus

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[dandelion-roots]

[ID: a digital drawing of riz gukgak from fantasy high. in the front is a relatively small drawing of riz juggling books that are falling out of his hand and a phonecall, and he has a huge backpack on. he looks a bit overwhelmed, hair flying in all directions, and has a nervous smile on. in the background is a large shadow of riz, only one glowing eye and a shining gun visible. the background is red, giving an eerie feel. End ID]

Kill your best friend

Cheat your way to your rogue teacher

Announce your presidential campaign

Don't let them know how angry you are

LEARN TO RECOGNIZE A MONSTER

[bumblebee-art-blog]

They wrote police brutality and the oppression of minorities…Two very real and serious and horrible things…for romance drama. I have never felt more sick.

And people are still glazing these writers my fucking god.

@mvmnbnv

[mellowthorn]

Family cuddle

[goldenlaquer]

Woahhhh if asks are open... can I ask for Gintoki trying really hard to impress this girl he likes, but everything goes to absolute shit because this is Gintama? Totally fine if you delete! I still devour all your old stuff to fill my soul with life 🥹 Never come across anyone who writes Gintama as accurately as you bebe 😘

Sakata Gintoki Headcanons:

If Gintoki made a list of pros and cons about himself, it would probably read like this:

Pro: he has a big dick. (Big dick reading as BIG DICK, in bold, all-caps. Triple underlined.)

Con: he's a perfectionist. (Con: he's a liar.)

So, it isn't all that hard to imagine impressing you would be a Herculean task for Gintoki.

Asking Kagura for advice is like shooting yourself in the foot. Gin-chan is penniless, she says matter-of-factly. No lady wants a broke, mooching, deadbeat boyfriend. A pause to let him absorb these insults, and then, Papi brought Mama three heads, she kindly tells him like it's the secret to your heart, and that's very romantic in Yato culture apparently. Which reminds Gintoki that Kagura is from a different species just as much as her barely counting as female to begin with. Well, in human culture, he could give you as many heads as you'd want— but that's bases away and he's been swinging strikes all throughout this sad, unrequited game.

Asking Shinpachi— no, no. Now, that's a lost cause.

He tries. He does. He really tries.

He tries complimenting you. Suavely slide in a comment about how your teeth looks like it could bite into hard candy, no problem. That your hair doesn't look as dry and brittle today than it did yesterday, and oh wow, your tits look... wow. Double thumbs up.

He tries paying for your meal, to show that he can provide for you, that he's not going to be the broke, mooching, deadbeat boyfriend Kagura deemed him to be. Work a few odd jobs and have all the correct bills in his normally depleted wallet, even break a comb on his hair and get dressed to the nines in his nice, regular clothes that passed the sniff inspection when he shook it out from a pile of unwashed laundry— and it's just, while on the way to his favorite family diner he invited you to, he's passing by a pachinko parlor, with all of its flashy get-rich-quick displays and bright dinging noises from within, and that was when he's suddenly sensing it... the taste of victory. Long story short, the only thing he'll end up tasting is the strawberry parfait that you paid for.

Whatever poor progress that manages to inch forward always ends straight back to the negatives. Damn the perverted stalker and her masochistic plays she forces on him. Damn the timing and whatever deity has pitted against him when you step onto the scene to the sight of him wielding a paddle as the stalker squeals happily while tied to the wooden cross. No, this isn't— he wants to tell you, but your expression has already smoothed into a carefully blank canvas before you turn your back to him and walk away to leave him to... it. No, this isn't what it looks like, he wants to scream.

In a mood of desperation and shots deep in cheap gutter sake, he'd even wrote a poem in the dead of night, detailing the color of your eyes and all the things they reminded him of, invented a new word just to make a rhyme with your name, how the sound of your voice catches in his chest when he hears it— shit if he knew anything about pretty words, he'd never wrote anything longer than a drawn penis before— and once he was done, what he did next was ball the whole sheet up, open the nearest window, and pitch it to the stars. The lamest shit he ever did in his life will be taken to his grave.

Sometimes, because his name is Gintoki, and he is the protagonist of a septic tank for low hanging fruit comedy series called 'Gintama', sometimes the whole universe is against him.

There is a two episode-length arc the occurs, but due to the time-constraints of these headcanons and the writer's own laziness, the details of it shall not be outlined, but please know it involves an exposition, conflict, rising action, a climax (and not the good kind), falling action, some explosions and a tiny grave misunderstanding that leaves you storming from the wreckage in fury and exasperation, and Gintoki catching your wrist, spinning you around to face him. Emotions and adrenaline running high, chests heaving in exertion, and seeing your face covered in soot and sweat and your eyes huge and wet, looking damn more beautiful than you have any right to be, that's when Gintoki finally decides to put his big balls to use and confess himself to you. Opening his mouth and—

Plotfully, the wind picks up, and then suddenly a wadded ball of paper rolls to hit your feet. Both you and Gintoki look down to stare at this interruption. You bend down to pick it up and unfold the ball, startling at whatever you find, snapping your eyes up to him. "Gin, your name is on here?"

Shit! Gintoki realizes, recognizing the paper now. This is the worst possible timing! My stupid shitty poem somehow found its way to the woman it was written for. And why the fuck did I sign it!

He looks left and right, searching for a vending machine to put his head through, and when there are none, he's scrubbing his face with his hand, looking at you and the damned poem he wrote that found it's way to you, as if was meant to be there. "I wrote it." He finally grumbles. "For you. Don't be creeped out."

Your eyes scan the page from top to bottom, reading. Your eyebrows shoot up, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"This is really what you think about me?" Your trembling voice barely above a whisper.

Gintoki pauses. Then nods. "Yeah. Every word."

Your expression blanks. You turn the wrinkled paper around. Gintoki squints.

Shit! Gintoki thinks. I was so drunk I never wrote anything down, I just drew a penis!

[yellowraincoat]

I love Luke and Elliot’s friendship, and at the end of the day for most of the book I’m certain Luke is just trying to be Elliot’s friend. But at the same time, ironically the thing that convinces me most that Luke has liked Elliot all along* is that Elliot Typically only understands about 2/3rds of the subtext the reader gets. Like if he's not seeing it, I think we're supposed to!

*(the moment I pin point is sometime around the rockslide when Luke has to deal with Elliot nearly dying for the first time and when Elliot makes it clear he prefers Luke’s company over Adam’s that summer, so when they are 14) (there is also that moment at the lake when Luke is doing the EXACT same thing to try and connect with Elliot as the other boys are to flirt with Serene— offer to teach him to swim… and if u tell me there’s not subtext there I’ll fight u)

In social situations throughout the rest of the book, Elliot is constantly just slightly wrong and learns it later, leading to hilarious and sad miscommunications. Like you as the reader are meant to know that Myra had a crush on Luke long before Elliot does, that Serene isn’t as serious about her relationship with Elliot as he thinks. You’re meant to understand that when Luke invites Elliot to parents day and to his house for the summer that, though he acts like it doesn’t matter to him and Elliot interprets it as Luke only tolerating his company, Elliot’s presence actually means a great deal to him. And Elliot usually does make an effort to interpret why he and Luke are miscommunicating and gets it mostly right… except for the glaring potential subtext that’s added if Luke has a crush on him.

Like the fact that Elliot eventually figures out “ohhhh luke got mad at me for how I treated Adam because he is also gay and maybe thought I was being homophobic” but neglects to see the ‘smug blond idiot’ of it all and how that comment could be personally hurtful to Luke… especially if Luke already had a tiny crush on Elliot and had read something into Elliot spurning Adam’s obvious flirting all summer in favor of hanging out with him instead.*

Not to mention that one SRB post where she included in the reasons why Adam thought Luke punched him is that Luke has a crush on Elliot

And there are a million moments like that. Like Elliot thinks it’s odd Luke just “decided” to like Dale, but never asks himself why Luke would make up a crush on the spot like that when Elliot asked him about it.

I think it’s interesting that as a reader, you’re essentially trained by the midway point of this book to understand that Elliot misunderstands people, and particularly misunderstands Luke, but we as fans are all still in such disagreement about what exactly Elliot is misunderstanding. Because almost all of it could be interpreted as “Kid with an intense unrequited crush” behavior….... but even I think a good amount of it is he just cares about Elliot in general, and wants intensely for Elliot to care about him back in whatever way.

[But to me at the end of the day the, 'Elliot gave Luke a pen once as a reward and Luke just kept it as a souvenir and never used it' thing is the moment that drives me over the edge of like OKAY if Elliot doesn't realize that is weird crush behavior he's NEVER going to figure it out.]

[birdhousemp3]

skill issue. spike should’ve been crawling on his hands and knees and drooling on her thigh high boots personally

[padfootastic]

like slow cooking a lobster - chapter 2!!!

(james/lily/sirius, jily slowly seducing sirius)

honestly, this fic is just so good and i’m so proud of it. i want everyone to read it. sirius is such a mess, my little babyyyyyy, and lily is aggressively pursuing him, one ‘accidental’ innuendo at a time, and james is gently but firmly bringing him within the fold of their family. it’s just—a good time all around, ykno?

[caricature-of-a-witch]

does anyone want to volunteer to be my pen pal so I have a good reason to use the amazing letter paper I got from @bitchlingwitchling

you benefit by getting letters in terrible handwriting on hella cool paper pretentiously written on with a feather quill and sealed as prettily as I can manage (which isn't very). ideally within Europe for money reasons but I'm at least semi serious about this and willing to pay for postage at least occasionally so like. actually do message me if you'd also be semi serious

[spceboyz]

@juxpoz

𖤐 — the man lifted his arm, brush gripped delicately in hand, performing a motion he had done countless countless times before...

⠀...before lowering it, again, for what was probably the... sixth? seventh time, perhaps? johnny gave a frustrated ( yet anxious ) huff, staring into the piercing white blank canvas before him-- it was taunting him, he felt; just another obstacle that he couldn't overcome.

⠀the raven-haired adult glanced around the room, admiring ( for what was probably the millionth time that evening ) all of devis paintings. the finished pieces on the wall, the wips tucked away in the corners-- even a few of the torn or forsaken canvases. there was beauty in everything the woman touched, he thought, and her paintings only solidified that belief of his. how the hell could he compare to that?

⠀the man knew better than to compare his well-being and skills to other peoples, but... he hadn't done this in years. in fact, johnny genuinely couldn't remember the last time he completed a painting or art piece at all; everything pre-happy-noodle-boy was a blur-- he only recognized the paintings on his walls as his own because of the tiny signatures on the backs of each of them; the only thing he recognized as his. otherwise they could've been done by someone else entirely, and the way he was feeling right now-- they may as well have been.

⠀despite this, however, the lithe man was conflicted. devi was lending him her equipment; her oils, her canvases, her brushes... wouldn't it be rude of him to refuse her kindness? “ I... don't know if I can do this anymore. ” johnny murmured, seemingly, to himself; staring blankly ahead with scrunched brows. “ What if I try and I can't? What if I've lost the part of me that is capable of creating? ”

⠀the scrawny adults expression soured at his own words. he didn't like how whiny and self-deprecating he sounded. “ Though, perhaps, it's just nerves... Maybe I'll be fine. ”

[hostradio]

al  has  literally  never  kissed  (  receiving  or  initiating  )  before,  but  i  also  think  if  someone  were  to  suddenly try  there's  a  fifty  percent  chance  he  would  misinterpret  what they were doing and  go  for  the  throat  on  reflex.

[daftpatience]

I wish I could use fountain pens but I'm left handed and it gets really messy

i am also left handed!! ill show you some tips!!

dont write to the side of your hand, write above your hand:

tbh it works out for me just doing that, but if it's weird or hard to write that way (i have no idea if it is since that's just how i've always written) there are other things that help!!

2. use fast drying inks! private reserve has a fast drying line!

3. blotting paper! it's thick and super absorbent. keeping it between your hand and the page will help, and as a bonus will protect the page from hand oils!

[fluffykitteninabox]

me at 15 reading about ocd on the internet: oh that sounds like a nightmare I don't think I could live like that, so glad I definitely don't have it

me getting diagnosed 7 years later:

[lordsardine]

.

[somewhereouthere]

I'm planning to write a novel. It's been one week, yet I'm still planning. In fact, I'm always like this. Not the first time, most probably not the last.

[oblivions-dawn]

Remember when I said I gave Valerica a girlfriend. Now she's getting a whole ass short story you're welcome