#GO WRITE YOU GOT THIS!!!

[beauvandalen]

a reminder for writers

139 words every day for a year is 50'000 words aka an entire novel aka you don't need to be hitting super high daily word count goals to finish that book ✨

[becca-e-barnes]

Bucky pinning you down so you can’t squirm and he’s just sitting inside you while he tortures your clit feeling you clench around him. He makes you cum over and over until he finally cums.

Overstimulation + super soldier stamina = …

- 🍯

Dear God, I know I just don't have it in me to behave during cock-warming. When it comes down to it, I genuinely have no patience at all 😵‍💫

"You..." Bucky begins, pressing you down onto the bed before gripping your ankles and forcing you to flip over onto your front. "Have a problem with control."

With your face turned away from him, you can't help but smile to yourself. No one has ever said it out loud but you know he's right.

Being in control is where you're most comfortable. No hands are safer than your own. Except maybe his. You know he won't fuck this up.

"And you..." He continues, gathering your wrists behind your back, holding them tightly with one hand. "Need to learn how it feels to have control taken from you. Do you understand?"

As soon as you begin to nod your head, you feel him start to tape around your wrists, holding them together behind your back. Once he's content they're secure, he sits on the edge of the bed, facing the mirror before he pulls you onto his lap.

"Legs spread over the top of mine." He orders and you do as you're told, not because you have to but because you want to.

You notice the way your cunt is already glistening in the mirror and you're almost embarrassed because he hasn't even touched you yet.

"Fuck, you're made for this." He groans, lining his cock up to your slick entrance and you wonder if he's holding his breath too while he slides into you, as deep as your bodies will allow.

You're obsessed with the sight in front of you; your own naked body, with your legs spread so far apart you can see how your cunt is stuffed full of him.

Being shorter though, your feet can't touch the ground like this. There's no way you'll get enough leverage to fuck yourself on him but as soon as you start to tell him that, he silences you with two thick fingers between your lips.

"I'm not letting you fuck me." His free hand roams over your body, squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples and then settling between your spread thighs.

"I'm going to play with you. I'm going to see how much you can take. I'm going to work out exactly how you like your clit stroked and I'm going to do that until your legs are shaking and your body won't let you cum any more. Maybe then I'll fuck you but sweetheart, that will be hours from now." His breath is hot against the side of your face, his fingers slipping from your mouth to your waist while he starts to flick gently against your clit.

"I'm going to start slowly. I'm going to do everything I can to drag this out as long as possible. I can feel every clench and flutter of this pretty little cunt and I'm going to enjoy it until you're dripping over my balls." At this rate, it won't be long until you're dripping onto the carpet, never mind over him. You dreamed he'd want to take control like this but you never imagined the way your body would respond.

"And then, when you've cum more times than you can handle, I'm going to tell you that I love you while I fuck you like I don't."

Update: Part 2

[sleepyminty]

Something incredible just happened on twt right now

[milkweedman]

fiber arts really is such an insane category of Things in how it can draw you in. like, 6 or 7 years ago i learnt to crochet and made a few terrible hats and scarves. then i learnt to knit because i wanted to knit a scarf for my friend (now fiance :D). then i realized it should be a woven scarf so i picked up weaving instead, but i still really liked knitting so now i was doing 3 crafts. somewhere along the way i started dyeing yarn as part of my kitchen experiments, and then i was like fuck it i wanna make my own yarn ! and that is where the problems happened. in the span of like 5 years ive acquired like $2000 of various tools (spinning wheel, combs, cards, blending board, several looms, etc), bought dozens of fleeces, and now my bedroom is basically a craft room with a bed, i have wool covering every flat surface in there as well as a huge dresser full of wool and several large drawers full of wool, i meticulously scrape every last bit of avocado out of the peel so i can use it to dye fleece, and i don’t go anywhere (including in my own house) without at least 2 knitting projects and a spindle.

im not complaining or anything, but the rapid shift from ‘guy who does stuff, idk’ to ‘guy who is worryingly obsessed with wool and will infodump at length about medieval sheep husbandry and the history of nettle as a textile if you give him half a chance’ is like. extremely funny to me.

[manufacturedrainbows]

My fellow fanfic authors, I'm begging on my hands and knees – and Ima hold your hand as I say this – you gotta respond to the readers that leave comments on your work.

I know social anxiety is the worst (trust, my autistic ass understands) but I promise you, nothing deters a reader from commenting more than seeing a comment section with no replies as you continue to post fanfics. Even if it's as simple as "thanks for reading!" or just some cute emojis, it'll show that you're actually engaging with your audience!

We work so hard on our writing, and those of us that post them online want it to be seen, right? Indulging in our little fandoms is how we build connections with people that feel the same way.

It might be hard or even scary, but I find the more you socialize with others (especially in a more controlled environment like a comment section), the easier it gets! 💕

[wardingshout]

Travelling for Day 4 of SpeSilverWeek! going to Mt. Silver to visit "the extended family"...

[artbribery]

Danny is summoned but tells each different summoner that he is a different being. 

He just gets fed up with it and says:

“No, I'm actually the fairy godmother and you don’t qualify as cinderella, unless you’re a young girl who wants to go to the ball, are you?” 

“Sorry, I’m a genie and I just lost my lamp, very sorry, didn’t rub the bottle, no wishes for you.”

“For the last time, I am not the ghost king, the lines on the summoning circle are all wrong, see, that right there means I am not of the ghostly category, I’m actually- yeah you got shit calligraphy Chad, will you let me finish I’ve been planning this one for a while--”

“So yeah I’m the easter bunny, what, you think the easter bunny has to be a bunny just because of the name? Not everyone gets an obvious name”

“I’m Batman” 

This last one probably backfires one day when he gets summoned into a cultist’s basement in front of the tied up Literal Batman and he goes double dare on the death by embarrassment by saying that one is a fake and how dare they, for shame, this poor cosplayer--

Bonus: 

He was summoned into the Watchtower by the JL. Danny is wearing a spacesuit costume and goes “Uh.. Houston, we have a problem.” 

[inkskinned]

i know people are good because of this: the universe often assigns me side quests. in a circular strangeness; despite my inability to locate my-own-anything, i am almost-always finding someone else's lost things. dogs, coats, phones, cash, laptops. it happens so often it's almost tiring; suddenly being looped into a tiny amount of detective work.

but when i'm with other people who are not used to this: the response is almost invariably delight. yes, maybe they are simply thrilled by the mystery. it's just... they light up so much. i think maybe more... i think they like the opportunity to do something kind.

a few weeks ago, i was at a bar and i found a wallet as soon as we stepped outside. i felt nervous to ask for help, worried i would be holding up the night. i picked it up and said go on without me, i should help this get back to its home.

instead, three people pulled out their phones - to find him on facebook, to help cancel his credit cards. two people went back into the bar to tell the bartender, two others went calling down the street. group texts, facebook posts, instagram stories. people, without even seeing what happened, start offering help to me. fifteen minutes and: someone knows someone who knows the guy. the cheer that went up - just for finding him, just for this small thing. someone gets him on the phone. strangers dance around me, hopping on their feet - are you the girl that found that wallet? good for you, that's a good thing you're doing/same thing happened to me and somebody did what you're doing and i thank god everyday for people like you/i can't believe you found him so fast this is so exciting

i gave it back to him in a parking lot. i watched his shoulders sag with relief. there was cash in it still - he checked the pocket, and then sheepishly held the money out to me. i didn't take it. i held up my hands. "it's no problem, man. i know you'd do the same for me."

i don't know him, to be honest. i don't know if he is the same kind of person i am. but he nodded at me.

and i know people are good. i know people are good, because the way this story ends isn't surprising. we wave goodbye awkwardly. my friend loops their arm around me.

"i can't believe we got it back to him," they said. "i'm going to be riding that high for weeks."

[luxaofhesperides]

Dancing in the rain ; requested by @wandixx!

He hadn’t been expecting the Signal to chase after him. It is, after all, well after midnight, and he had seen the vigilante out earlier during the day. 

Maybe the Bats are understaffed tonight, he muses as he leaps over the rooftops, a wild grin on his face. Being on the other side of a chase is a lot of fun, he’s discovering. He can see why Selina enjoys it so much.

Though, it probably has to do more with who’s chasing her than it is the chase itself.

But Danny’s become a bit of an adrenaline junkie after a few years of being a hero, fighting ghosts and governments. He’s not a hero anymore, especially not in Gotham, but being Catwoman’s partner in crime is way more fun than being responsible for everyone’s safety.

It’s like he’s doing anything bad, either. Selina can steal whatever she wants; if they couldn’t protect things against her, then should they really have it? Danny doesn’t focus on jewelry or gems. No, he takes ghost artifacts or items contaminated with ectoplasm back to the realms where they won’t cause problems to any humans. There are enough ecto-contaminated people in this world, solely from Amity Park. Best not to let that number grow.

So here he is, leaping over rain-slicked rooftops and only using a little bit of flying to keep ahead, holding a cursed pocket watch that a ghost had requested he return to them, with the Signal chasing after him, disappearing into shadows and popping up unexpectedly. 

“Stray! Get back here!” Signal yells, and Danny takes a moment to spin on his heel to face the vigilante to stick his tongue out at him, then backflips away.

“I didn’t even steal anything important!” he returns, tossing the pocketwatch in the air ahead, then jumps up to catch it and scales his way up to the roof of the next building. 

“Seriously,” Signal says, suddenly in front of him. “Stop running and we can talk this out.”

“Woah!” Danny tries to get around him, trips over his own feet, and crashes into the Signal’s chest. 

“Careful, there.” He looks up to see the Signal’s smile, and he absolutely can not be blamed for having his half dead heart skip a beat. He’s in the arms of a hero who’s smiling at him so sweetly, what’s a guy to do? “Ready to talk now?”

Danny goes intangible for a moment, smoothly sliding out of the Signa’s grip. “Nope,” he grins, starting up the chase once again.

The rain isn’t very strong, and the drops feel cool against his face as he runs, getting a little more air with each jump as he uses more of his flight to keep ahead. He can hear the Signal chasing after him again, heavy footsteps that start and stop unpredictably as he travels between shadows. 

Just to be safe, Danny stashes the pocket watch inside his chest, leaving his hands free to grab onto the rough brick of the walls and scale them up, aiming to go higher and higher. Maybe if he finds a good building, he can dramatically fall off the edge and fly away invisibly. 

“Got you!” 

The Signal pops up out of the wall and grabs Danny, who yelps and tries to pull his arms away. The Signal is too strong, and his tight grip on Danny’s wrists is warm against the chill of the rain. 

They stand there for a moment, just staring at each other as they try to catch their breath. And then, “Is that any way to treat a guy?” Danny jokes, trying one last time to pull his wrists free.

“It is when it’s you,” the Signal replies. “Man, you sure know how to run.”

“I’ll be sure to put that on my resume for my next heist.”

“Seriously, can we talk?”

Danny eyes him curiously. The other Bats mostly tried to take back whatever it is he’d stolen that night, occasionally trying to get information from him. None of them had outright asked to have a chat with him. The Signal at least has some manners, compared to the rest of him. There’s no harm in sticking around for one conversation.

It helps that the Signal is cute, especially when he had saved Danny a few weeks ago. 

Sue him, he’s a bit soft on the Signal. Wouldn’t anyone be with their favorite hero?

“Alright,” Danny says, relaxing. “Go ahead. Talk.”

“Great! Okay, um.” The Signal bites his lip and Danny should really look away, but his eyes are fixed to his mouth. He doesn’t speak for a solid minute, during which Danny really begins to feel the chill of the rain. “Can I get less comments from the peanut gallery?” he says suddenly.

“What?” Danny laughs, confused.

The Signal sighs. “My comms are on. The others are being annoying. If they wanted to ask you questions, they should have caught you first.”

“Oh, protecting me from the big bad Bats? My hero,” Danny says sweetly, pretending to swoon. Except, the Signal follows his movements, releasing his wrists to catch him by the waist, holding him steady. Danny’s breath hitches, and from how close they are, he has no doubt that the Signal heard it. They freeze for a moment, then the Signal dips him like some fainting Victorian maiden.

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t mind sweeping you up in my arms.” The smirk on his face only lasts a moment before he grimace and says, “I shouldn’t have said that on open comms. Man, they’re annoying. It’s not my fault I know how to flirt.”

Danny…

Well. Danny short circuits for a moment, running the words over his mind again, then blushes so hard he’s sure there’s steam coming off his cheeks. “You’re flirting?” he squeaks. “With me?”

“Flirting,” a new voice confirms, making them both jump, stumbling against each other as Black Bat hops down onto their rooftop. “Both shy and silly. I’m better.”

“You can’t even ask out Spoiler,” the Signal retaliates.

“She can’t even WHAT?” Spoiler yells as she also vaults herself over the alley below to join them. “You want to ask me out?”

Though she doesn’t say anything, Danny can practically feel Black Bat’s glare through her mask. The Signal winces, then says, “Oops.”

“Man, you can keep yourself busy, clearly Sig doesn’t need backup,” Spoiler says. “I need to go on a date with Black Bat. The rest of you suckers are on your own!” And then she grabs Black Bat’s hand and grapples away.

There’s a beat of silence, then Danny and the Signal share a glance and start laughing. 

“Well,” Danny says, “Good for them! Good for them.”

“They’re probably just going to Bat Burger.”

“And are you going to be treating me to a burger any time soon? I should be compensated for this conversation, you know.”

“Please, if I was taking you out on a date, it wouldn’t be to Bat Burger. I’d take you out dancing.”

It sounds like a date his dad would take his mom on. It sounds nice. Danny smiles and leans in closer to the Signal, taking hold of one of his hands. With the other, he puts Signal’s hand on his waist, then brings his own up to the Signal’s shoulder. 

“Why not dance with me now?”

Danny leads them in a few clumsy turns of a waltz, silently thanking Sam for forcing him to take a few ballroom dance lessons with her. The Signal seems a little dazed, following his lead, and when he lightly squeezes Danny’s waist, he shivers. 

Catwoman should be done with Batman soon. They had agreed to meet up at the newly opened Vintage Boutique in Diamond District, and he intends to beat her there. 

Reluctantly, Danny pulls away from the Signal with one final spin, and hops up onto the edge of the roof. “If you can find me during the day,” he says, “Then I’ll dance with you again. See you around, Signal!”

And with that, Danny hops backwards off the roof, free-falling towards the ground before he lets gravity lose hold of him and slips into invisibility, flying up just as the Signal peers over the edge, searching for him.

Unable to help himself, Danny floats closer until he can give the Signal a quick kiss on the cheek, then flies off, grinning wildly. 

He certainly can’t wait to see the Signal again. 

Maybe if he hired a few guys to pretend to rough him up while Signal’s out patrolling…

Well, either way, this cat is already half dead so he can jump straight to satisfaction bringing him back. And, hopefully, back into Signal’s arms again when they won’t be interrupted by other Bats. 

He’s already looking forward to it.

. . .

[send me a ghostlights prompt!]

[somerandomdudelmao]

@tapakah0

This little bunny means the world to me

[lightseoul]

you and me, both

synopsis. mina and kirishima invite you to a night out. ‘it won’t be like last time!’ they said. you begrudgingly go. (part 1)

cw. gn!reader, gradstudent!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (~23 yrs old), mina ashido x kirishima eijirou, fluff

word count. 1.9k words

You check your watch for the umpteenth time, which now reads 6:29 PM. It hasn’t even been a minute since you last checked it, yet it feels like you’ve been waiting here for hours.

The ramen shop you’re waiting in front of and agreed to hang out at is slowly getting packed with people, tired businessmen and students alike eager to eat the day’s worries away and head home full and satisfied.

Rocking yourself on your feet, you chance another peek at your watch. You stare at it as the minute hand finally strikes the number 12. With a heavy sigh, you look up to find Bakugou walking towards you, hands in his pockets, just in time.

Of all things, the last thing you need him to be is punctual.

You stare at each other in awkward silence before warily exchanging hello’s.

Before Bakugou could even bring up the elephant in the room, you quickly explain, “I think everyone else is just running late.”

He nods silently, and in three strides, arrives at the spot to your left, all the while sparing a respectable distance between the two of you.

Clearing your throat, you look around at everything else but him. The ramen shop you chose as a group called Kikanbo is known for its signature ‘devil’ ramen—devil because of its (allegedly, hot and numbing) spiciness.

You were initially against it, not wanting to make a fool of yourself in front of Mina and Kirishima’s Pro Hero friends, but ultimately decided to go with the flow. The last thing you needed was for them to tease you about being self-conscious around Bakugou. Which you aren’t.

Suddenly, it dawns on you how suspiciously couple-looking you’re coming off right now. Giving Bakugou a quick once-over, he’s dressed in black joggers and a grey crewneck sweater, insulated by a thick, long coat. You internally sigh in relief at the sight of his baseball cap, which should shield his identity from prying eyes.

Though, you doubt his bulging muscles and piercing crimson eyes do much in terms of keeping a low profile.

While looking him up and down, he catches your eye. Embarrassed, you blurt out: “I’m gonna call Mina.”

Desperate to get away from his immediate radius, you don’t even wait for his acknowledgment before stepping away into a quiet corner. The phone rings three times before you’re greeted with a chirpy (too chirpy, if you were to be honest right now), sing-song voice.

“Hi, Y/N! What’s up?”

Twelve years of friendship and you still can’t believe this girl, “Mina? Where the fuck are you?! And everyone else?”

She has the nerve to guffaw, “Like I said, it won’t be like last time anymore! Tonight, it’s only gonna be you and—drum roll, please,” in the background, you hear someone—Kirishima, probably—imitating a drum, “Bakugou!”

Fuck. You can’t help but whimper, “You have to be kidding me.”

“Sorry, Y/N. We figured this is the only way we can get you guys to spend time together outside of just texting. By the way, you guys sure are going at a snail’s pace, huh?”

You can feel the blood rush to your face, “What? How’d you even—”

“Bye, bestie!” she cuts you off, “Have fun!”

“Be safe, bro!” Kirishima adds before she hangs up, leaving you slack-jawed and your heart going at 150 beats per minute.

When you turn back, you see Bakugou leaning with his back against the wall, a smirk decorating his features. What’s he all fucking smug about?

You reluctantly walk towards him, waving your phone for emphasis, “Did you know about this?”

“No,” the smirk has now been replaced with a subdued scowl, “but I put two and two together on the way here.”

And just like that, he drops the conversation. He simply makes his way to the entrance and you follow suit, forced to deal with all the implications by yourself.

Just like the dinner from two weeks ago, it turns out that hanging out with Bakugou isn’t so bad after all.

After ruefully accepting the fact that you both got absolutely betrayed and stood up by your best friends, you entered the ramen shop and got seated on the stools facing the chefs. You ended up going for the regular level spices, or futsu futsu, while Bakugou went all in and ordered the devil ramen or oni mashi.

He barked a laugh at how your eyes bugged out the moment you saw how red his broth is. Instead of challenging you to a spice-off, though, he simply offered you the first sip (which stunned you—you didn’t expect him to make such a courteous gesture). Grateful, you took his offer.

You shouldn’t have, though.

You ended up choking so hard, alarming everyone in the restaurant, and Bakugou had to keep in his snort (that was surely gonna be loud and attract even more attention) in favor of getting you some milk to wash it off.

Once you recovered, you went on to eat your dinner, talking about the kinds of things you’ve conversed about over daily texts. Real-life conversation with Bakugou, to your pleasant surprise, is easy and free-flowing.

Contrary to how he’s depicted in media and your first impression of him from that run-in in the middle of your commute home from university, Bakugou is thoughtful and considerate. Sometimes brash, yes, but never mean.

He also seems to be genuinely interested in what you have to say, mindful of shifting the conversation from revolving around his hero work to asking about how’s post-grad these days, or if there’s anything eventful that happened in Manual’s agency earlier, seeing as how’s today’s a Saturday, the day on which you work part-time as admin staff.

You couldn’t school the surprised expression on your face fast enough at his remembering, and a small, somewhat self-satisfied smile took over his lips at your reaction. You probably, maybe, could’ve died a happy person then and there, but you kept yourself in check.

Soon after the bowls were clean of delicious ramen and bills were paid, you then headed out and decided to walk in the cool night breeze, with Bakugou taking the lead.

Which is how you wound up here, in a somewhat populated park that you’ve never heard of, sitting on the bench overlooking the view and in comfortable silence.

“So,” you start, admiring the scenery (first; second, avoiding eye contact), “do you usually go here?”

He grunts in response, “Yeah. Though I usually stroll around alone, instead of…” he gestures awkwardly toward your direction.

You struggle to contain your chuckle. How can he be so domineering in the field yet so bunglesome when talking to you? It’s endearing, to say the least.

“But you have brought some over here, have you?” you look around again, inspecting the greenery, the stone infrastructure, the lights. “This place is so beautiful.”

“I have,” he starts, “I think I’ve jogged with Dunce-face and Bug Eyes here once.”

You snort at the nicknames he calls his friends, “Dunce-face? Are you referring to Kaminari when he—”

He smirks, “Yep.”

You can’t help but laugh out loud, and he joins in with a snicker.

“But wait,” you look at him, “I meant have you brought over a girl over here before?”

You mentally slap yourself for uttering the question before thinking it through, undertones and all. Bakugou’s eyes widen a bit, but his face remains controlled. If he’s masking his knee-jerk reaction, you’re thankful for it.

“I mean,” you peer amongst the people who are enjoying the night air with you, “Most of the people here are in pairs—couples, because of how romantic the place is at night, with all the light fixtures and all.” You shrug, “I’m sure any girl would appreciate being brought here.”

You sure as hell are hoping you’re coming off more as the ‘helpful-friend-giving-some-well-meaning-advice’ than the ‘jealous-bitch-who’s-crazy-over-past-girls’.

He huffs, and you’re starting to think you’ve overstepped his boundaries when he cuts off your train of thought. Hell—railroads you and leaves your mind embarrassingly blank.

“Actually, this is the first time I’ve ever been on a date. At least,” he snorts, “the one-on-one kind.”

Suddenly, a million questions start racing through your mind.

He’s considering this a date? Did he consider the fiasco from last time a double date? This is his first? What?! How?! Why did he bring you here, anyway? Does he think of you in that way…? How can he be so bashful yet so straightforward at the same time? How the fuck is he so cute?

All these very important (some outright silly) questions, but the one you pipe up with is: “But back then—you agreed when I said you had a lot of experience—how?”

“I grunted, dumbass. There’s a difference. I wasn’t about to tell ya how inexperienced I was in this sort of thing when you were hyping me up like no other.”

“Huh.”

He side-eyes you, “From the looks of it, I’d say you’re the one who’s had far more experience.”

You’re too embarrassed to admit the truth, and too dizzy from the implications of his statements, but you figured you owed him at least your honesty. Looking down at your clasped hands, you mumble under your breath, “This is actually my first time, too.”

Silence falls upon the two of you, and unlike earlier, it’s filled with budding anticipation rather than comfort. You finally will yourself to look up, only to see him red. Red all over—neck, ears, and face.

Redder than when he slurped down that monstrous broth from earlier.

Then it hits you.

What Mina said was…real.

She sure as hell omits some truths, concerningly more often than not, but she never lies to you.

You can’t help but let out a soft laugh, and he turns away at the sound, perhaps in embarrassment.

You smile, “For the record, I’m glad you’re my first.”

At that, he abruptly stands up, and for a second you’re thinking you ruined the moment by saying that, but you don’t get to wish for the ground to swallow you up whole because Bakugou looks back at you with a fierce determination in his eyes that makes your mind go hazy.

“Come on,” he holds out his hand, “I wanna make sure this is the best fucking first date you’re ever gonna have.”

Bonus:

(as he’s walking you home from the park)

“Wait, so am I the first person you’ve been texting, too?”

“Yes. Now quit yapping about this ‘first’ shit or I’ll make you.”

You laugh good-naturedly, “But you’re so good at it! The pacing, the withholding of information to keep them wanting more—I was convinced you’ve done this with a million other people.”

He sighs in what you think is fake exasperation, as his cheeks are tinted with a faint red, “For the billionth time, you’re my first. And,” he looks away, “I had Shitty-hair help me out a bit.”

Normally, you’d extinguish any and all species of butterflies in your stomach brought to existence by a boy because you can’t afford to get distracted right now.

But, today isn’t normal.

You, instead, let the grin that’s been fighting to take over your face the entire evening finally win over. You can’t help it—hearing that from anyone—especially Bakugou, makes you happy.

You continue walking in comfortable silence until he’s the one to break it.

“So,” he starts and you don’t even have to look at him to know there’s a smirk adorning his goddamn handsome face, “all sorts of company, huh?”

“Shut up.”

tagging. @wolfunderthethree @bakugo-dee @poemzcheng @fallingmoon02 @eksd @niiine @gold24fish @animehoe666 @distinguishedlight

[lolottes]

Ida is Constantine's good ex.

They separated on good terms after a few months because Ida wanted to start a family and not Constantine (for obvious reasons). Then, despite Ida's efforts to keep in touch as a long-distance friend, she quickly no longer received any news from him.

So when she sees him barely older and seeming lost in his town… she takes him for a ghost who has retained a very human appearance. She rushes to him because she is surely not the only one to notice the presence of a “tourist” in town.

She takes a minute to pity him and apologize. He hadn't ignored him, he was dead!!! Then start explaining to him why as a ghost it's not safe for him here even though it's very nice of him to visit <3

Constantine had not informed Ida about magic, after all it was one of his exes from before his cancer (a little near the time when he stopped responding to her) and his first triple sale of soul for escape death. But he knows Ida well enough not to contradict her. In addition, she gives him all the information in flash notes that he is looking for.

…

Okay, he also missed Ida. It felt SO strange to see her old. But she apparently hadn't lost anything from a mental point of view

This is how Constantine was invited to have tea and catch up on lost time at Ida's in addition to having a more complete debrief of the Amity Park situation

[saturdaysky]

a little divine appreciation

-

God Gale is endgame for Mayhew, and Mayhew couldn't be more pleased 😌

their mutual wizard disease brought them to some pretty low lows, but hey, ignore the tragedy, they're gods now! first order of business is a little worshiping at the altar 😏

Here's the sketch, which I also like:

Got majorly inspired by these lovely photos, one of which I used as a pose reference.

[mummer]

just saw asteroid city last night, pls explain the proposed significance of the kiss!!

answering this publicly hope thats ok! cant do a readmore im on mobile *****asteroid city spoilers below beware*****

i dont remember anyones names so this is gonna sound partly unhinged. okay so the edward norton playwright and jason schwartzman actor (not character, in the black and white parts) are lovers right. tbh i thought this was kind of a gag and forgot about it. but later we find out that the playwright died 6 months into the production. i didnt make the connection that THAT’s why the actor-jason has to suddenly leave the stage and freaks out backstage about how he’s not sure he’s Doing it right. hes not talking about acting!! because he himself is literally grieving his lover while he’s playing a character who’s grieving his wife written by his lover so obviously it’s too much!!! actor-jason is trying to find meaning in his death through his writing but there isnt any meaning in death [gerris drinkwater voice] which is what the play is trying to say anyway. he doesnt think he’s performing grief right even in his own life!!! (and tbh it’s the 50s so he wouldnt be able to perform grief publicly anyway!!!!) the play starts with a car accident… anyone would search for some hidden meaning there, some sign…. so when he talks to margot robbie outside it’s not really about finding the CHARACTER’s motivations it’s about the actor himself being able to process the playwright’s death! and adrien brody director was probably also dealing with that too (him and norton seemed to be good buddies) so the whole “sleeping backstage” thing gets a bit sadder maybe? maybe everyone else got this in the theatre and im just stupid lol but crazy making stuff to me!!! the whole story is about sublimated gay grief that cannot be expressed?!?!

the tweet that caught me onto this was here which posits that the playwright’s death was a suicide but i think that’s pretty stupid and unnecessary because the whole thing about the play asteroid city is that death is random and meaningless. im pretty sure that’s what the alien represents— a shocking and absurd event that isnt outright evil or menacing, not something anyone can predict or make sense of, it’s just a thing that happens to you out of nowhere, it doesnt mean anything. he’s a little black figure, he’s death! giving and taking! aagh

[brother-emperors]

--or perhaps,' continues Octavian. 'You're angry that I've outplayed you at your own game because you were too busy fucking in your old master's house to notice anything that was going on around you.'

He smiles suddenly, bright and wide. 'Enjoy the party, Marcus.'

this scene takes place sometime after philippi, and was originally just some historical fiction I was writing last year for fun focusing on antony, octavian, and agrippa. then I got stressed out watching the new season of a show, started drawing while it played, and ended up turning it into a short comic lmao

the dialogue in this scene is referencing this bit out of Suetonius:

In early youth he incurred the reproach of sundry shameless acts. Sextus Pompey taunted him with effeminacy; Mark Antony with having earned adoption by his uncle through unnatural relations; and Lucius, brother of Mark Antony, that after sacrificing his honour to Caesar he had given himself to Aulus Hirtius in Spain for three hundred thousand sesterces, and that he used to singe his legs with red-hot nutshells, to make the hair grow softer. What is more, one day when there were plays in the theatre, all the people took as directed against him and loudly applauded the following line, spoken on the stage and referring to a priest of the Mother of the Gods, as he beat his timbrel: "See'st how a wanton's finger sways the world?"

Suetonius Augustus 68

what a fun group of people!! they should all eat each other

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Call that a Cave Story.

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