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A dumb comic that had to come to fruition.
Anyway, death duo mañana
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hate an x reader fic do not put me in a situation
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Deathduo as HiraKagi from "Hirano & Kagiura"
<tres
This is from one of my favorite mangas, the protagonists remind me of deathduo (at least my headcanon of them).
Person1 is IN LOVE with person2, but person2 LOVES him in a platonic way (person2 is aroace, they don't say it but it's clear) BUT they care so much for each other they want to stay close/together.
Fun Fact: The design of my c!philza has the front of his hair like Hirano's, it works well to hide where the little wings start.
I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!! <tres
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The delusional part of my brain says Philza is so against doing lore on Realms bc he's saving his energy for QSMP 2 but also the logical part of me knows that we will never see him and the eggs together again
#copium#qsmp#while im here can i just say. im surprised people are surprised that chay and lullah are labeled as deceased???#i thought it was like. common knowledge that 'asleep forever' meant dead?? like it wasnt as obvious as tazercraft and richas but like ??#idkidk#ive been contemplating writing a fic where phil like#openly kills the eggs and then himself#but i havent written in months
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Ned Chicane really drove a 1958 Lincoln Continental into a flaming cave whilst wearing a Chewbacca costume covered in animal shit and the contents of a septic tank to save a town full of people who didn’t like him from a creature he didn’t even believe in three days prior and he still thinks of himself as a coward. Ned Badass Chicane, the man that you are
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So glad I was never a dsmp fan buttt I do find the entire dream situation so funny. Like. As a casual Phil/Tommy/Tubbo/Charlie fan this is. Nothing but Ws for them.
#I. was about to. start watching the dmsp bc i got into lovejoy which then made me look into wilbur#but he turned out to be a piece of shit so i migrated to the others#also who could've guessed jschlatt would escape this unscathed#admin
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I am a WHORE for “the love is requited, they’re both just idiots”
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Started watching Philza's QSMP vods chat how fucked am I
#ive already cried once. when phil told Cheyenne how much he reminded him of techno. I am on his second stream with Tallulah also being there#philza qsmp#admin
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what they don’t tell you about writing is AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!! AAAAAAAAAAHH!!!
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Devastated at my wrapped this year besties
#lovejoy at number 1 despite the months and months of trying to correct the 2 months straight at the start of the year of#straight up just playing normal people things on repeat for hours on end#and my number 5? danandphilbeats#kill me#i look so chronically online#my only solace is that hozier maneskin and chase petra stayed on there#the sad part is i wont learn
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The problem w writing fiction is that you'll be like tee-hee I'm going to write a story about a fucked up little scenario that's got nothing to do with anything in real life, just some pure messed up nonsense, and then you finish it and take a step back and go aw rats I made a metaphor again
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This blog is 10 years old today apparently which means in a few months my ao3 will be 10 as well and woof brother have we gone far. From writing Twitch/YouTube RPF to haikyuu, to....well, more haikyuu, writing has been such a big coping mechanism for me over the years. There's been changes in genre, in media, and in life, but it always comes back to here. I doubt there's anyone here still that's been here since 2014 but ily all the same ♥️
#even if i dont post all that much anymore#man its weird to think about time#when i was 14 i said i was going to write a book before I graduated....ten years later im still working on it#admin
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When Barry is twenty-two, he picks up a heart-shaped locket in a thrift store and decides to buy it for his mom. The only issue is that he can't see the get the damn thing open. He tries, quite literally, everything he can think of. He tries messing with the catch, tries soaking it in hot water to get it easier to open, tries getting a pair of tweezers between the front and back, but it won't budge. For all intents and purposes, the locket is stuck shut and will remain so.
Barry... doesn't give it to his mom. It would feel kind of disingenuous if he can't even put a picture inside it. But he doesn't take it back either. He meant to, for sure, but instead, it sits in the second cup holder of his car for years until he finally has someone riding with him and they try to put their cup down. Then, it stays in his pocket.
Barry is fifty-two and the locket is now a keepsake, a good luck charm, a fidget toy, whatever he needs. He wears it around his neck unless he's in the lab, then he puts it in his pocket. Years ago, when his mom had died, he had held onto it until he couldn't feel his hands anymore and it had left a heart-shaped imprint on his skin. It means something now, even if he can't open it.
He doesn't want to open it anymore. At least, he didn't think he did.
Barry is fifty-two and a half when he's sitting on the steps leading up to the lab, head in his hands. His car had broken down on the way over here and he really didn't have the means to fix it anymore, which meant he was either going to have to ride the bus (a bad idea, seeing as the nearest bus stop was two and a half miles away and Barry's body already had aches and pains) or find someone to carpool with.
Barry is fifty-two and a half when someone comes to sit next to him on the steps.
"Hey," she says. Barry looks up and is confronted with perhaps the most beautiful woman he has ever seen in his life. "I like your locket."
"Oh, uhm, this?" Barry holds the locket up by the chain. He had been messing with it because that's what he does when he's nervous now. "Thanks, but it's not much."
"Where'd you get it?" she asks. The locket glints a little in the morning light.
"A thrift store that, heh, that they tore down years ago. Sorry to disappoint."
"It's cool," she says. "Does it have a picture inside of it?"
"Maybe?" Barry says, scratching the back of his head. "I don't really know, I've never been able to open it."
"Want me to take a stab at it?" she asks. Barry would usually say no here. After the first dozen people had asked him that, he started to get a little worn out of the question. Really, he has no reason to trust that this woman would be any different. Or that she wouldn't just run off with it. But...
"Sure," he says, handing it to her.
Barry is fifty-two and a half when the woman takes the locket from him and rubs her thumb over the top of it gently. There's a very, very small click! and she pops it open.
"How- how in the world did you do that?" Barry asks, amazed. The woman presses her thumb to the picture inside, smiling affectionately. When she passes it back over to him, she says,
"It used to belong to my husband."
The picture inside is definitely her, at least on one side of the locket. On the other side, there's room for a second photo. It's in black and white, but the faces that look up at him are very familiar. The woman, on the left, with her hair pinned back. She has her arm around a man and they're both smiling like there was no one in the world they could love more than each other.
But Barry's hands are shaking. Because the man next to the woman isn't just anybody.
It's him.
"I think we have a lot of catching up to do," the woman says.
"Who are you?" Barry breathes, clutching the locket to his chest.
"Lup," she says with a smile that sends Barry's heart over the moon, even if his head has no idea what's happening. She offers her hand and Barry takes it, breathless. "I was beginning to think I missed you this time around, babe."
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