#Soooo yeah :)

[writingpun-art]

um. so here's my post-canon farcille confession comic

[ghostbeam]

Tomura shigaraki x reader, tomura is an art student, takes place in the same universe as my charcoal artist!dabi stuff, tomura is like very insecure in some of this, if the writing feels pretentious and flowery and unnecessary that’s because it is<3

His hair is getting long.

Running your fingers through the ends, you notice how it’s nearing his shoulders now. His head is in your lap, staring up at you as you lean against the mountain of pillows on your bed, clad in a pair of underwear and the tee shirt he arrived in. His jeans are stained with paint, hanging low on his hips, unbuttoned and quickly thrown on so he wasn’t naked and vulnerable in your lap. You thumb at the scar by the corner of his mouth and he kisses it, then your palm, then your wrist. Tomura takes your hand in between three careful fingers and places it over his heart.

Love is not how they told you it would be.

The two of you were assigned to the same group in painting iii, formed so that the students could give one another critiques independently. Only, you couldn’t find a single thing to critique in his work.

Tomura worked with oils—or Tomura lived and breathed and died for them. He painted people, always caught in a moment, in the middle of talking, or yelling, or drinking, or sleeping. His attention to detail was unlike anything you’d ever seen before, colors you’d never realized could appear in skin tones, shine on limbs and cheeks that made his subjects both more alive and human than any real person. His work felt sort of dirty, sweaty, perpetually damp. But it was beautiful. You couldn’t say a thing about it.

He’d confronted you about it one afternoon, stuffing handouts from the professor into his bag, which looked to be filled with more loose paper and no text books.

“Do you hate it that much?” It was the first time he’d ever talked to you, actually talked to you and not just about your work during a critique. “You never have anything to say.”

It stuns you for a moment, his anger and annoyance, how he’s decided to aim it at you instead of the group of people clamoring for issues with his painting all class period.

“I’m supposed to point out flaws, tell you where you could have done better, explain how I wasn’t moved,” you explain, staring down at your shoes, “but I can’t do that. There’s not—I don’t see how I could possibly tell you how you could do better.”

“That’s bullshit.” He mutters, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Don’t just say what I want to hear. I won’t like you any more for it.”

He leaves you standing alone in the classroom. Like you? He thought it was about being liked? You’re in such awe of him that you can’t speak, and he thinks you’re just trying not to hurt his feelings.

During the next class, when he stands before your group for critique, you don’t say a word. And he keeps looking at you like he’s waiting for it, like you’ll be angry enough at him for last week that you’ll rip his painting apart. But your silent, once again. Nothing’s changed.

He’s the first one out of the class once you’re dismissed. He walks fast, and you’re out of breath by the time you catch up with him, resting a hand on his shoulder that he flinches away from. Your breath comes out in quick puffs that you can see, wrapping your coat tighter around yourself as you fix him with a glare.

“You’re wrong.” You say once he’s turned around. “I don’t care if you like me or not after critique. It’s not about sparing your feelings. I’ve never seen anything like what you do. And I watch you in class, and you paint like something is clawing it’s way out of you, like you need to do it or you’ll die.”

“You’re honest with everyone else but me.” He argues, unable to accept your words. You have real things to say to your peers. You don’t hold back with them. You make them better. Why couldn’t you do that for him?

“You are not everyone else.” You watch his eyes widen at your words, and if you had any shame, maybe you wouldn’t have said something so bold. “You’re leagues above all of us. Everyone knows it, and that’s why they’re harsh on you.”

Where you say nothing, your group rips into him, picking at each and every detail until there’s nothing left. He takes it all in stride, accepting their words like it’s absolute truth, and returning to his canvas with sunken shoulders and furrowed brows, concentrated on how he could be better. It’s exactly what they want.

He opens his mouth the say something, but stops, feeling a drop of something fall on his cheek. He looks up at the dark clouds above the two of you, and it begins to rain. He curses, taking a hold of your hand and leading you underneath the front of the design building.

“They’re harsh because I deserve it.” He points out, still holding your hand. You could say a million things right now, tell him in detail how moved you are by every piece he makes, but his hand is still in yours, and you don’t trust yourself not to trip over your words because of it. You can only shake your head.

“Why can’t you accept that you’re brilliant?” You question, exasperated. It makes him laugh, his smile being something you’ve never seen before. It makes you think of all the people who have seen this smile before, the stretch of his lips, the creases by his eyes. Had they felt this lucky?

“I think you’re crazy.” He tells you, knocking his knuckles against your head.

“Do you wanna go out?” You ask before you’re able to stop yourself. He leans away from you, surprised.

“What?” You can’t find the words to speak, to tell him you’re sorry, that it was uncalled for, that you’re a total creep. His face is red, you notice. He speaks a moment later, “yes.”

Rising from your lap, he leans over you, kissing your lips with as much tenderness as he had your palm. Your lips are his favorite thing to paint, second only to your thighs which he grips tightly as he wraps your legs around his waist.

When he’d met you, all full of hope and belief in him of all people, he’d thought of you as such a faraway thing. Unattainable. If you couldn’t talk about his work, there was no way you’d ever talk to him. But he was wrong, something he rarely ever is, your faith in him changing how he viewed his own art forever.

He paints you. He paints you a lot. He even paints the two of you together, though your faces are never in those ones, just bodies tangled together on one canvas. He’d call you his muse if you didn’t hate it. And besides, he knows you’re so much more.

If there had been something inside of him clawing it’s way out, you had noticed it, freed it, kept it safe with you so it wasn’t so agonizing to carry on his own.

No, it’s not how they told him it would be at all.

[samssims]

[adharastarlight]

Evan: where the fuck did Barty go???

Reg: I swear, if you dont put your extrovert on a leash, they wander off!!!

[bottomgun-maverick]

TG:M Kid Photos 🫶

[gt-daboss]

GT Writing/Reading Question

Ive been writing GT stories for some time now, and reading them for much much longer, so I'm curious what the consensus of this topic is (my opinion and reasons in the tags if you're curious)

[omgeto]

people im going away from tumblr for a hot minute (a while. )kinktober is cancelled (shocker) and you guys are mean. peace out.

[spirallingstarcases]

k i’m back from the store what did i m—

.

.

i was gone for like. five days.

[pink4opia]

OH WE ARE SO BACK!!

[amethystina]

If you had to put Yohan and Gaon in a parallel universe, what would it be? Bcs I've been thinking about how would they be in a zombie apocalypse scenario (it's definitely very angst)

I can think of several and my brain tends to let the ideas percolate at the back of my mind whether I want them to or not x'D So, at random, it'll present me with fully formed stories complete with a complex plot and everything that's been slowly pieced together while I wasn't looking.

Admittedly, I haven't thought of a Zombie AU, though, probably because I don't like the doom and gloom of it (she says while having written a 100k Zombie AU for another fandom where one of the main characters is a literal zombie x'D ).

ANYWAY. Here are some ideas that have been living in my brain rent-free for a while:

Soulmate AU:

While everybody believes in soulmates, not everyone is lucky enough to dream of their fated other half. Yo Han does, however. They start during his teenage years, as is customary, and he can't say he's surprised when it's Isaac's familiar face he sees. He's quite relieved, in all honesty, since he'd much rather have a platonic soulmate than a romantic one. It's less messy that way.

Fate proves him wrong the day Isaac dies in that godforsaken fire and Yo Han devotes the rest of his life to avenging his soulmate's death. That seems to be the only way to fill the void inside of him.

But then, just as Yo Han is getting ready to set his ten-year plan in motion, everything gets thrown on its head.

He meets Kim Ga On.

Suddenly, Yo Han isn't sure who he's seeing in his dreams. Is it Isaac or this young, idealistic judge — who Yo Han soon realises has been sent to spy on him? And, even if it is Kim Ga On he's dreaming about, does that truly change anything? Everything has already been set in motion and, soulmate or not, Yo Han wants revenge for what happened to his brother.

And what's to say that Kim Ga On — so brilliant and righteous — would even want Yo Han as his soulmate? His despise for Yo Han is evident so, clearly, fate must have made a mistake this time.

Someone that pure could never love a monster like him.

(Ga On dreams, too, and they're always the same. He never sees his soulmate's face, only roaring flames and a crumbling building. Ga On assumes that means his soulmate is dead. Why else would he find himself trapped inside that burning inferno every time he dreams? Surely he would have seen something else by then if the person was still alive?

Not once does it cross his mind that, maybe, his soulmate just needs to find a reason to start living again...)

___

Black Knight AU:

Joining a group of rebel refugees wasn't so much a choice for Ga On as a necessity. He hates to see the suffering around him, people dying from lack of oxygen and food, their numbers dwindling by the day.

Ga On wants a better future for all of them and he'll fight tooth and nail to get it — even if that means tearing down the old world order and demanding a new one.

Fortunately for the rebels, they have someone on the inside helping them. Ga On has never met this person — known only as the Benefactor — but it's clear that he must be from the core district. Only someone at the very top would have the kind of power and influence that the Benefactor does, providing the rebels with information and supplies through the network of deliverymen and military personnel at his disposal. Ga On doesn't know why someone at the core district would want to bring down the very system that keeps him rich, but Ga On will take whatever help he can get.

And then — as if Ga On doesn't already have enough to deal with — things get complicated the day the rebels intercept what they think is a supply delivery but turns out to be a travel convoy. And the man at its centre is clearly from the core district judging by his pristine suit and flawless appearance. Usually, that would make him a valuable hostage, but there's something different about this man.

Not only does he not seem the least bit afraid to find himself in the midst of a group of armed refugee rebels, but he also fixates on Ga On in a way that's downright unsettling. Ga On doesn't understand why.

Nor does he understand why he keeps feeling an inexplicable and wholly inappropriate pull towards the man. Ga On knows absolutely nothing about him aside from the fact that he's clearly very rich, unnervingly intelligent and, as it soon turns out, incredibly dangerous. How can Ga On be attracted to someone so ruthless and selfish?

The only core district dweller Ga On feels even the slightest bit of respect for is the Benefactor and this Kang Yo Han is the polar opposite. Ga On shouldn't feel drawn to him.

And yet, against better knowledge, he does.

And it feels more like a question of when he'll succumb, rather than if.

(This story has everything! Rebels! Eating of the rich! Delicious identity porn! Explosions! Elijah calling Ga On literal trash that Yo Han dragged in from the gutter!

... it would probably also be pretty long so let's hope I don't succumb to the urge to write it)

___

Historical Vampire AU:

After Ga On's parents die, he fully expects to end up on the streets and starve to death. Fortunately for him, a local scholar takes him on as an apprentice instead, teaching him how to read and write.

He feels incredibly indebted to Scholar Min and so, many years later, when Ga On is asked to accept a position as assistant to a rich but mysterious lord just outside the city, he of course does so. The position is a mere cover, however. In actuality, Ga On will be spying on Kang Yo Han in hopes of finding out if he's secretly supporting the uprising that's brewing in their region.

More than once, Scholar Min tells Ga On that he must be careful — that the mission is incredibly dangerous. But it's not until he actually arrives at Lord Kang's estate that Ga On understands why Scholar Min kept repeating all those dire warnings.

Not only is Kang Yo Han aloof and deeply unsettling — his gaze filled with something that could only be described as hunger whenever he looks at Ga On — but he doesn't seem to eat, rarely sleeps, and never ventures outside during the day. Only once darkness falls does he leave the estate and, sometimes, he doesn't return until just before dawn.

Before long, Ga On begins to wonder if Kang Yo Han isn't just involved in the uprising, but might also be the cause for the dead bodies that have been found strewn around the city the past couple of months.

And, somehow, Ga On has to find proof to support his theory — preferably without becoming a target himself.

(A.k.a. if you thought Ga On's neck kink in Who Holds the Devil was bad? Think again, bitches)

___

Aside from these, there are also the two parallel universe stories I have already started: Gravitational Pull which is basically meant to be a series of one-shots that divert from the original canon by changing one small detail in each installment. And then The Devil's Due which is a Different First Meeting AU where they meet when Ga On is still a teenager and that throws everything out of order (because Yo Han accidentally kickstarts Ga On's gay awakening a lot sooner than usual and, after that, all bets are off)

So yeah. I could probably think of several more but let's stop here for now xD

(And don't ask me why I chose to write these ideas as if they're fanfic summaries because they definitely aren't fanfics yet)

[three-soulmates-askblog]

kusuo ur cool af

[starryalpacasstuff]

So ever since I joined tumblr and started engaging with the asian bl side of it, I've learned a lot about analyzing the significance of color and objects in media, especially from following blogs like @respectthepetty @dribs-and-drabbles @miscellar and so many more. They're all so awesome and I've learned more from them then I ever did in a literature class.

And to my surprise, I've found myself actually noticing examples in the dramas I watch. While it can be ever so slightly immersion-breaking, most of the time I find myself going, "yeah! I noticed that!".

But there is a minor problem, which is, when I do something, I fully throw myself into it.

So now I'm seeing color and object symbolism in my very real life

:)

[adharastarlight]

Tis The Season

Four: Mail

Jegulus, where Regulus lives with Sirius and Sirius is... alluded to being the boss of some shady shit and James is a bodyguard. Idk it was late and I was sleep deprived

Regulus never got letters, which is why it was so odd that for the past few days he’d practically run to the letter box and retreat into his room. It was even odder that Sirius could hear him giggling from his office. He’d never actually seen what happened, he’d only heard it from the first room next to the front door. But today? Today, he stood in their kitchen and stared at the door, trying to figure out what magic it now possessed.

At exactly ten twenty five, Sirius heard Regulus’ alarm go off. At exactly ten thirty, Reg walked out of his room, stifling a yawn and went over to the door. At exactly ten thirty two a letter fell through the slot into his waiting hands. It had been the same for almost a week.

“Reggie?”

The younger brother froze where he stood for a second before turning to face him. Sirius usually had a meeting at ten fifteen which lasted until eleven. “Good morning, don’t you have a meeting?”

Sirius held up his phone, the screen showing he was indeed on a call, but muted. He tapped his ear where he had his headphone and smiled, “I’ll know if they need me, it’s the same boring drivel.”

“You’re the boss, why do you even need to be in all of the meetings?”

“I’m a hands-on boss. What’s the letter?”

“It’s nothing.” He shifted the weight of the paper between his hands slightly and forced a convincing smile, “do you want to order in tonight?”

“You never get mail.”

Regulus shrugged, “well I wouldn’t know what it was unless I’d opened it, hm?”

“Oh, right of course. But our mailman does his deliveries at eight and no one else has access to the foyer. Unless you’ve given them the code?”

“I’m not an idiot, Sirius, besides, plenty of people have the code.”

“People who work for me.”

“You are indeed the boss.” He shifted his weight again and rubbed at his eyes, feigning more exhaustion than he was experiencing. “Can I go back to bed now?”

Sirius narrowed his eyes at him, “is there a security breach, Reggie?”

“What? No!”

“You can’t trust everyone, you know?”

The younger scoffed and moved to walk past him but he was stopped in his tracks by his brother stepping practically into him. He glowered at him, “move.”

“This is serious.”

Reg rolled his eyes, “no, that’s you. Now budge.”

“You might like them, Reggie, but it’s not safe for anyone to have that code other than the people I directly give it to.”

“Yes, yes, I know. I know all about the bloody business. No need to remind me. I’m perfectly safe. I don’t even open the bloody door.”

The older brother straightened up, “Regulus.”

He groaned and lifted his tee slightly to show the gun resting in the elastic of his shorts, “happy?”

Sirius stared at him for a moment, “where did you-”

“Oh please. Did you think I thought you were the CEO of a tech company? I’m twenty-three, Siri, I’m not naive. You could keep me locked in this apartment forever and all it would show me was the ways out.”

“I told you not to… it’s not safe, Regulus!”

“Well, I’ve not died yet. You might as well train me, I’ll be joining the others anyway.”

“Don’t be absurd, and don’t change the subject. Who did you give the code to?”

Regulus just smiled, “I didn’t.”

“Then-”

“You did. They’re on your payroll.”

“Everyone on my payroll is in the meetin-” he broke off and stared at the letter, then at his brother’s face, at the door, back at his phone. He hung up without a word and called a different number. “My baby brother? Are you kidding me, James?”

“Hello to you too.”

Sirius cursed under his breath and Reg was mildly worried he’d snap his phone in half, “did you tell him?”

“No, of course I didn’t. He’s not an idiot. He’s known for years.”

“He’s- you’ve known for years?!”

Regulus shrugged and smiled again, “most of your plans would have failed.”

“You messed with my plans?”

“I fixed them.”

He glared at him somehow more but turned his attention back to James, “I told you to guard the fucking perimeter not drop off love letters.”

“You can’t assign me as the bodyguard to someone so beautiful and expect me to just be fine.”

“I will kill you.”

James scoffed and the brother’s heard the door to the foyer open. Reg felt his cheeks heat and he quickly ducked into his bedroom to change, “no, you won’t. I’ve kept him safe for years.”

“Whilst what? Flirting with him?!”

“Sure… flirting… yep. Anyway, I'm almost there, one second.” He hung up the phone and there was a very smug sounding knock on the door. You might be wondering how someone could make a knock sound smug but if anyone could, it would be James Fucking Potter.

Sirius typed in the code to unlock the door and flung it open with a dramatic huff, “you’re dead, Potter.”

“You’ve said. Where is he?”

“I hate you. I’m the bloody boss and-”

Regulus walked out of his room in a hoodie Sirius distinctly remembers not buying, “hey, mon amour. Sirius, breathe. I mean, this is really your own fault. If you’re going to lock me in here and the only man I’d have access to is this fucking hot? Your own fault.”

“I-”

“Careful, mate, you’ll catch flies if you keep gaping like that. Hi, sweetheart, c’mere.”

He smiled and walked over just slow enough that it could be considered walking before jumping up and giggling when he was caught by the brunette. He wrapped his legs around his waist and knocked their foreheads together, “hi.”

Sirius was staring at them again, his mouth still agape, “you- he- you’re… you’re dating?”

“What did you think it was?”

“I don’t know! A secret admirer thing! How did you two even-”

James smiled, “when you go out on business, I mean, really he’s far safer with me in the apartment than me just strolling around outside.”

“And I’m much safer going out with him than sneaking out alone.”

The older brother threw his hands up in defeat and walked back into his office, holding out a gun to Reg, “come on then, we better get started on that training. And get rid of that piece of shit, you need a proper gun now.”

[benadrylcandlewhack]

Alright I'm trying to get back into the swing of things with TFR so I wrote a quick plot synopsis to hopefully get people intrigued

After a takeoff mishap, a small group of Autobot Resistance members led by Optimus Prime and Elita-1 make a desperate escape from Cybertron as Autobot HQ is attacked by Decepticons. After being chased through space by the Decepticons, they all take to escape pods and crash on Earth in the year 1899, with the exception of Wheeljack, who stayed behind on the Ark to hopefully land it. Over 120 years later, a lonely and socially inept teenage girl named Sadie Monroe, who has a passion for animals and cowboys, discovers the ruined Ark lodged in the mountain behind her new house with her mother in rural Ontario. What she finds in the crashed ship, or rather *who* she finds in the ship, proceeds to change her life forever, as she now finds herself in the middle of an alien conflict, trying to help reunite the scattered Autobots, and forging a friendship like no other

[kyistell]

Hii! What is your favorite ship in WTTT? And what are your hcs for this ship? Thank you ☺️

Hiii, I am so sorry that this is so late, I really wanted to answer it earlier but I had to sleep to go skating and then I couldn't really think of headcanons for the ships that I think are cute.

BUT I do sorta have ships, like ColoVada is really cute and I can get behind it, same with CaliYork, it's real cute and I will read stuff for it. I also like JerseyVada mainly because of the casino/gambling rivalry that existed back in the day.

Unfortunately I don't really have any headcanons which was the main reason this took so long like I said, I didn't want this ask to just float in the void for a long time. So really sorry :/

(PS: I actually have done headcanons for ColoVada, this also has CaliFlo headcanons as well :D)

[disastersteps]

Do You Have Any Idea What I Have To Do? ...Go There And Do What Others Wouldn't Fucking Dare!