#got a life ban

[helianskies]

'please don't fall!' for PruSpa :)

why of course >:3

Ladder

“Do you want me to hold the ladder?”

“I'm fine, it's not that high!”

“It was just an offer!”

“Oh, God, be careful up there, Gilbert! Please don't fall!”

“No point appealing to him,” Mikkel tells Antonio, who has just wandered into the room. “Stubborn as hell, as always!”

“I’m fine, seriously,” Gilbert assures them both all the same. “Your concern is flattering, but totally unnecessary!”

The three of them are amongst a small group of volunteers (or ‘elves’ as it had been put) to help decorate ahead of the annual holiday get-together. This year, it has become Francis’ undertaking, but as if he was going to get up a ladder and decorate the Christmas tree himself! Gilbert has a list of strict instructions (which he’s mostly ignored so far) and as he approaches the top, he’s glad he’s nearly finished. 

But of course, being all the way up a ladder while decorating what was apparently a ten foot tall tree is ‘alarming’. Gilbert’s been dealing with Mikkel’s disguised worry for the last twenty minutes, but now that Antonio is now also here, he just knows it’ll worsen. Darn old men and their weak, weak knees! Not everyone is a liability!

As predicted, nevertheless—

“Do you want me to hold the ladder?” Antonio offers as well, hands on hips as he watches on from below. “Or maybe one of us should go up there instead…?”

Gilbert waves him off, and continues titivating the silvery tinsel. “I’m almost done,” he says by way of reassuring him, the worry-wart. 

“I’m gonna leave you to it,” Mikkel surrenders with a gentle sigh. “Reckon I’ll be more use elsewhere.”

“Yep!” Gilbert agrees, eyes still glued to his work. 

He hears some mumbling from below—Antonio and Mikkel exchanging some quiet words and a laugh about something, he notes—before one person’s footsteps pad away, and the room falls silent once more. 

The silence only lasts so long, though.

“I’m looking forward to tonight,” Antonio muses. A quick glance down reveals that he’s looking around the room, at the tall ceilings, the chandelier, the snow-adorned garlands… “Something about Fran’s parties are always so magical, don’t you think?”

Gilbert hums along to appease him. He isn’t sure if ‘magical’ is the word. But he will admit he enjoys these nights, the festivities, the friends, the laughter… That’s what the holidays have come to mean: spending time with the important people in his life while they can.

But then Gilbert finds himself, after a moment, looking down once more. Below him, Antonio is eyeing some of the decorations already on the tree—glass baubles, ceramic birds, hand-painted globes—and a small smile seems to have appeared on his face, eyes wide like a child in a sweet shop.

Antonio is an even bigger fan of the holidays. For the same reasons, at heart. But there’s a part of him that also just loves the lights, the ornaments, the wreaths—every little detail. And even if he maintains his traditions in January, Antonio has not shied away from Christmas Day celebrations either in recent years. Gilbert likes seeing him enjoy himself in that respect. There was a short period where his presence was… Well…

It’s good to see him. 

“Oh my gosh, I f—”

“FUCK—!”

“GILBERT!”

It happens so fast. There’s a wobble, then more wobbling, and then only falling.

It feels funny. A leg slips briefly between rungs—a misplaced foot is the root of his problems—and he feels himself fall backwards, light, helpless, fast. He braces himself in that single second to hit the ground—maybe even the ladder—to hit his head, or hurt his back, or land on a shoulder. Sustaining an injury is far from ideal, especially since these days he’s not quite so well-equipped to heal, but if he—

He does not hit the ground, but something just a little bit softer. Something that has arms that try to catch him, and something that inevitably falls down beneath his weight.

So much for not falling!

But that fall has repercussions, now, on more people than just himself. 

With a groan, Gilbert tries to move and get up. Antonio, however, who is beneath him and sprawled across the floor, asks him, strained and quiet, to stay put.

Gilbert worries. His arse hurts, as does his shin. He’s glad to see the ladder went towards the tree and that Francis’ baubles survived the ordeal, but…

“Are you okay?” he asks Antonio, who still holds him, arms wrapped around Gilbert’s torso. 

“Eh…” His breathing is a bit heavy, yet bated. “I thought I told you not to fall…”

“Yeah, well,” Gilbert scoffs, “you made me jump!”

“And you’re welcome for saving your neck!”

With that, Gilbert carefully pries himself from the other’s grasp and slowly sits up. Antonio softly groans, and decides to stay lying down; the other perches next to him, his own heart still racing a bit, and they look at each other.

The worry is certainly mutual.

“You okay?” Gilbert asks again, another layer to his question implied in the way his face morphs. 

“Sore,” Antonio says. “Gimme a minute. I’ll— I’ll be fine.”

“Idiot.”

“Well.” His smile returned, albeit somewhat mischievous. “After that, I guess you could say you—”

“Don’t.”

“—fell for me?”

“Ugh.”

“The heck happened to you two? I heard a scream!”

Gilbert rolls his head to the side and finds Mikkel, reemerged at just the right time, and in a dramatic display of surrender, he riffs a slew of curses and joins Antonio on the floor properly. 

Paying no mind to Mikkel’s presence, then, Antonio seeks out Gilbert’s hand and holds it gently in his own. It is warm. It is kind, in spite of what has just occurred between them. And Antonio looks at him with such warmth, too, and Gilbert looks back, and the other smiles once again, and Gilbert warms and buzzes and breathes and—

“No more ladders for you, Gil.”

“If you say so, Toni.”

And with that, their laughter only resumes.

[ fic collection on ao3! ] [ prompts list here! ]

[tiffanyachings]

it would have been very beautiful. camilla would have had to cook (horrible bone soup)

[mayosmelting]

sketching again

[oceanwithouthermoon]

all misogynists need to be banned from watching saiki k, and ESPECIALLY from talking about teruhashi..

[cutetanuki-chan]

you better watch out you better watch out YOU BETTER WATCH OUT

[eclecticopposition]

give meee... headcanons about the Sangfielle friends in the most boring AU you can imagine like. idk. office Sangfielle. grocery store Sangfielle. they all work at a movie theater. whatever sounds mundane as hell and you have Thoughts about :3

okay tumblr ate my fucking answer the first time. let's try this again.

the thing about these guys is that no matter how mundane you make it, they can make anything into a situation. that's just the guys they are. so we put them in a Walmart.

Marn is an employee with a great customer service voice. She's keeping it together in the face of some truly wild statements and requests. One man keeps asking for frootie hooties, a brand of cereal that he insists is real and everyone is just refusing to sell to him, and she's spent twenty minutes trying to tell him that they just don't have it in stock

Lye and Es are having an animated conversation in the clothing area, where she is examining various colorful dresses and he is distractedly picking things off of nearby shelves and putting them back down. The conversation started at how they got kicked out of dayward yve's novelty store and is now about whether stealing should be more or less of a crime than manslaughter, because it's not as bad as killing but it is on purpose. People are trying not to pay attention to them. Eventually they are asked to leave, at which point it is revealed that lye has about two hundred dollars worth of items in his pockets and es has some candles she liked and a new pair of shoes in hers. They are both barred from Walmart.

Duvall hates it here. It's loud, he hates the lights, the aisles make no sense, he can't find anything he's looking for, and people keep coming up to him to ask him where things are. He doesn't even work here. Why do people assume he works here? He's not even wearing any Walmart merchandise. Is that what it's called when you're an employee? Merchandise? Well, it's what it would be called if he wears it, which he never will, because he doesn't work here and never wants to. Have a nice day ma'am.

Pickman is slowly marching her way through the aisles one at a time, peering at her shopping list and holding a tiny shopping basket in one hand. She has to be very careful not to knock the shelves over sometimes. Just trying to get groceries. People are nervously avoiding her. Says "Hey, you" to some poor employee to ask where the milk and cigarettes are. Just grunts at everything else. When she's at the checkout, the guy there asks "Did you find everything you're looking for?", and she just says "No." and leaves

Chine comes out of the bathroom with a live rat in his hand. People scream. The manager finally comes up to him like "Sir, you can't have rats in here." They say "Oh, she's not mine. She was just having trouble opening the door." Gets a big meat on the bone at the deli and nothing else. When he asks how much it costs, they just say it's on the house and try to get him to leave as soon as possible. They go like "Oh, really? Are you sure? I have some money." and sound surprised but pleased, like they're being done a personal favor. The employees insist. He's like "Alright, thanks!" and then asks the rat if she wants anything

[spectral-snippets-and-drabbles]

Schrodinger's Human: The Star Child

Halfa's aren't natural by any stretch of the imagination and they certainly were never supposed to come into existence. Yes, you could come come back as a zombie or a revenant, maybe even return as good as new or the complete opposite, but never truly return so... cleanly split.

Despite being the balance of both the living and the dead, Danny Phantom was never truly supposed to come to pass and was a happy accident, a one in an extremely rare umpteenth chance, rather than Danny Fenton dying in the unfortunate lab accident like in all the other timelines and multiverse.

Despite the truly miraculous odds of his survival, the young Halfling realized something was wrong somehow, when he awoke in the hospital. At first he thought it was because of the lab accident causing the scarring on his body and face that made people look away, but that wasn't it. It has been months and yet nobody looks his way.

Not once since the accident has his parents, sister, or his friends (or anyone, really) have looked him in the eyes. He just suspected that they must've felt guilty for getting him hurt...but then even his rouges seem to have always averted their gaze when they fight, so what gives!? Was the damage that severe? He likes to think he healed up pretty nicely with just a few prominent scars.

As Phantom, they weren't even visible! Then one day, he snapped after a particularly rough fight and demanded an answer, pinning the ghost and demanding, screaming, that they look him in his watery eyes.

"We can't! We physically can't look at you without adverting our gaze. Even the humans you call friends and family are unable to so much as look at you. We don't know why!"

It made Danny stop and think. Did...did he get a meta gene awoken from the lab accident? For his sanity, he deduces that it was some form of attention repellant power, that had to be it...right? After confronting his friends and family, they told them the same thing. At least the explanation was there. It made the pain bearable when he was around them.

Then the fight with Pariah Dark happened and everything went down hill from there (he just didn't know it yet).

It made Danny glad that the Ghost King couldn't see him properly (he stuck to the side with the eye patch) and continued his assault on the blind spots with gusto. It took a while but he eventually felled Dark and took the title of King of the Infinite Realms, much to his shock.

With the Ring of Rage and Crown in his possession, he returned to Amity Park exhausted, muttering to himself a desire before he let sleep take over.

"̸̙͐M̷̫̕a̶̯͗ỳ̸̲b̶̙͆e̵̳͋ ̸̹͆n̴̗̏ó̴͙w̸̖͂ ̵̢̀a̶̳͛ş̷̈́ ̴̡̒Ķ̵̊î̷̝n̸̻͌ĝ̷͕,̴̤̈́ ̵͓͗I̴͇͌ ̵̙͑c̸̣̀á̴̮n̷͕͝ ̴̫͐ơ̸̱r̷̮̆d̵̜͗e̷̲̊r̶̞͐ ̸̘̉g̵̖̈́h̵̝͊o̶̦̓s̷͎͂ț̷̂s̶̢̐ ̶̰̚t̵̠̐ỏ̵̺ ̷̘͋g̸̩̕o̷͉͝ ̵̣͋b̶̮͋ā̵̩c̸̨͆ǩ̵͍ ̴͙͘t̴͈͛ǫ̶͊ ̷͇̓ṱ̸̚h̴̞̀e̸̱͋ ̸͖͋R̸̲̀ë̸̪́ả̷̺l̸̙͝m̷̡͘s̶̢͒.̴̮̓.̵̤́.̸͖̈́ȁ̵̡t̸̖͂ ̵̺͐l̵̙͐e̴̢͘a̴͙͆s̶̼̔t̶̢̔ ̷̭̑ú̸͇n̸̗͗ť̷͖ǐ̷͜l̸͇̄ ̸̛̬I̶̺̾ ̶͔͂c̷̫̿a̸̟͊n̶̺̓ ̴̻͝f̶̦̒i̴̥͗ň̶̡i̸̡̊s̷̗̄h̶͖͐ ̵̝̒a̵̧̓ĺ̷̮l̷͍͐ ̶̤͠m̵̲̆y̷͎̐ ̸͙͌s̷̘͛c̵̯͋ḣ̵̖o̴͔͂o̶̫͝l̶͕͛ī̴̼n̴̝͋g̵͝ͅ ̷̨̿f̵̤͆ì̸͈r̸̥̆s̸̠̎ť̶̞,̶̧̑ ̸͈̅i̵̠͌n̴̻̉c̵̩̈́l̷̳͌ǘ̷̲d̵̟͂ĩ̸̳n̴͓͌g̴̪̈́ ̸̲̈c̸̗̿o̶̪͆l̴̤͋l̵̹͋ë̶͍́ä̸̼́g̷̼̑ủ̶̝e̷̩̿.̶͕̂.̸͈̾.̵͖͂I̴̞̽ ̵̣͘w̴̙͝i̵̯̚s̸̼̈h̸̦̉ ̸̟̓t̶̡͒h̵̨͊á̷̖t̵̛͕ ̷̨̿ĩ̴̡t̵̳̐.̷̫̄.̷͙̔.̶͎̃w̶̲͊a̶̳͝s̶̨̋ ̷̫̓t̴̜́h̵̢͌a̵̗͌ṯ̷̾.̵̠̕.̶̤́.̷͓̍ḛ̷̈́a̵̙͘s̷̭̔y̴͈͂.̵͉͂"̴̼̍

(Maybe now as King, I can order ghosts to go back to the Realms...at least until I can finish all my schooling first, including colleague...Yeah right...I wish that it...was that...easy.)

And like a true wish upon a star, it overidded all logic in the universe to the Boy King's whimsy. The ghosts left over night and all natural portals sealed themselves shut with no means to open themselves back up anytime soon.

And across the planet it vanished as well, stray pools of fermented ectoplasm, medicines that used it and even machinery powered by the stuff went missing, with the exception of the Fenton Ghost Zone Portal, that sealed it self with no means for anything to enter or exit.

The young Boy King's actions were far from subtle.

Many are now without their precious magic, Gods have llst their powers, the Speed Force had been stripped away, and Lanterns across all the emotional spectrum found themselves on their homeworlds with rings that failed to respond, their lights snuffed out. Two birds are now sound asleep, unable to open their eyes.

But before Nabu had been pulled out of his Helmet, he told his wearer one cruical message.

"The Source has been sealed away by a being powerful enough to possess all Sapient life in Multiverse, The Anti Life Equation has been unleashed."

[good-beanswrites]

I can't stop thinking of Kyanako's Order of Attack au... there's something so moving to me about how things getting so much worse could be what finally causes Amane to get better -- seeing Fuuta dying may be the final straw of getting her to rethink her rejection of medicine. Been a while since I've attempted something whump-y, this was fun to work with.

Tw for mentions/contemplation of death. I don't go into detail about the cult but the doctrines are implied through it all.

Fuuta was not a big fan of dying.

When he imagined his own death, he always pictured it as something dramatic and fast. Action heroes going out in a show of explosions and gunfire. Fantasy characters meeting the shining end of a blade. Even when he accepted his place in Milgram, it filled his mind with images of gallows and electric chairs. 

Whatever this slow, lengthy fever was, it was pissing him off. 

He’d lost all sense of time. He could no longer tell which hour the prison bells were marking -- morning and night blended together. Dreaming and waking blended together. His head injury and broken leg and broken bones blended together. It was all just pain at the end of the day. He had nonstop visitors that kept him awake and asked him too many questions and prodded his injuries and made his head spin. Somehow, he was simultaneously alone every time he rolled over to talk to someone. Painfully, suffocatingly alone. 

If Kotoko was going to kill him with those ridiculous emo boots of hers, she should have just done it. He was losing his mind here: devoid of all energy, suffering through broken bones and a cracked head, and boiling in an increasingly fiery fever. Maybe that was the reason he stopped commenting when he watched Amane pocket the medicine Shidou had left him. Maybe that was why he’d stopped following Shidou’s instructions himself. Even after losing an eye and taking a beating herself, Amane always looked at peace. He was tired of dealing with all of this. He wanted a bit of that peace.

Regardless of why, it was working. His fever had quickly gone from the biggest pain in his ass to the very thing that dulled his racing thoughts. 

He awoke suddenly, or maybe he’d already been awake. He couldn’t feel anything in his limbs. There was only a breathless heat around him. He raised himself into a sitting position, looking for a drink. Moving his head felt like one of those glitching computer windows that leaves a trail of copies behind it. The room swam around him. His eyes moved absently around him.

Fuuta picked up the glass that someone had left him. His fingers were clumsy, and it immediately went crashing to the ground. He hardly heard the noise as it broke apart on the concrete below. 

He swung his legs over the side of the bed. He’d just go get a drink himself. Shidou told him not to get up without help. But what did he know? Thinking of the man ordering him around only drove Fuuta to step out of bed even quicker. He cried out, pain shooting through his leg. That was right, it was broken… 

Fuuta looked down, finding himself on the ground. It was so hot. Maybe this is what she felt, he thought numbly. Was it this slow for her too? Probably not. She had no regrets to fill the time like he did. The heroes got quick, beautiful deaths, and it was the villains who had to suffer the long ones. 

He lifted his right palm from where it had caught his fall. The shattered glass on the floor had cut into it. Shattered glass? What had broken? He stared blankly at the blood dripping down. 

He didn’t have the strength to raise himself up. He was burning. Why was he on the ground? Was he bleeding? He could barely breathe. What was he doing here, anyway? He just wanted to curl up and sleep. He was so weak... just to lie down... he wouldn't have the strength to get back up again. Was that such a bad thing...?

A voice caught his attention. His eyes struggled to focus on the figure who’d come running into the cell. He couldn’t understand a word of what she was saying, but he was happy when she pressed her cool little hands against his forehead. 

He allowed her to prop him up next to the bed. She held onto his hand, squeezing it tight. Why was she holding it like that? That hand was bleeding. When did that happen?

Her arms wrapped tightly around him. He wanted to shove her away -- it was too hot -- but couldn’t. In his ear, he could make out her words. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please, Fuuta. Don’t leave me alone. I’m so sorry...”

As she pulled back, he recognized Amane. Her uninjured eye was filled with tears. Was she upset? He thought he’d been making her happy. He wanted to keep making her happy. He’d never made anyone happy before. 

He opened his mouth to say something, but no words would come out. They all scrambled up in his mouth. He felt the cell swirling around him.

Amane raised her voice. She looked desperately upwards. “This can’t be --! This isn’t right!” 

Fuuta looked up at the ceiling. There was nothing there. 

“I can’t do this anymore.”

She continued talking. Fuuta was too busy studying the ceiling. She was shouting. Or maybe crying. Fuuta didn’t like that she was so upset. Huh, had there been someone there? He surveyed the empty cell. What was he doing on the ground?

He looked down at his hand. The sheet from his bed had been pulled down and wrapped hastily around it. Why? His eyes felt sticky as he blinked. Everything hurt. It was so hot. What was going on? He was so angry. He was so scared. He wanted to cry. Why was he here? Why couldn’t he just hurry up and die already?

The next time she entered, Fuuta recognized Amane instantly. Her one hand pointed to him, the other held onto someone else. The second figure hurried over to him. 

Fuuta was not a big fan of dying. Shidou reassured him he wouldn’t.

—

“You’re wearing the eyepatch,” Fuuta observed. 

He was playing a dangerous game, drawing attention to it like that. He was too exhausted, and his curiosity won out over his better judgment. If Amane was going to explode with one of her typical speeches, he’d just let her.

She didn’t. 

Amane’s hand drifted up to her eye. It had been hastily covered before, but now it was cleaned and wrapped in professional-grade materials. She simply said,  “Kajiyama Fuuta. How do you feel?”

“Like shit.”

“But--”

“-- But I’m better, yeah.”

Amane nodded, her shoulders releasing. 

“Oi, I haven’t seen you in a while. Not since…” He wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence. Shidou had told him what happened, but it was difficult to believe. He couldn’t quite trust his own memory of the night. No matter how much clearer his mind felt since receiving proper treatment, those days of fever still muddled together. He heard that Amane had up and switched her beliefs overnight -- she was now complacent about all of Shidou's treatments -- but Fuuta knew people didn't just change like that. He wanted to hear it for himself.

She lowered her gaze in shame. “I… I thought you hated me.” Her voice was steady. “As you should. I almost killed you. I accept any ill will you may feel.”

“I -- what? You’re wrong. You… it wasn’t…” He grabbed his head, grunting in frustration.

After standing awkwardly in the entryway the whole time, Amane took a few steps inside. She made it to his bedside when he finally collected his thoughts. 

“It was your fucked up family or whatever that caused everything. They did this. And I went along and made things worse.” He looked away. His next words felt stupid to say to a little kid. He felt like the most pathetic, weak, loser. But it was too important not to say.

“They almost killed me. You saved me.”

[suffarustuffaru]

if i wrote a comprehensive analysis of reading into otto's character from a queer lens (with extensive text citations) would you read it bc ive thought way too much about this for the sake of my silly anime fanfiction okay. i know too much about this topic now and i gotta let the energy out <33

[vynnyal]

Unga bunga these take 3 hrs to make

[vv-ispy]

If decarabian was a gamer he would have the most decked out setup imaginable. 2000+ dollar custom keyboard where nearly everything but the internal components are made of solid gold. Top-of-the-line pc entirely encased in various ornately decorated gemstones. He would have at least five monitors (bonus points if they also double as surveillance monitors.) His gaming chair would in fact be a literal throne. At times he thinks that video game logic must surely apply to real life mortal human logic as well and vastly overestimates how durable most humans are.

Someone save her

[horseshoemybeloved]

I need me some weed I’m TIRED

[nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius]

No no I promise I fixate on the Bad Batch for perfectly normal reasons nothing is wrong with my family at all I had a great childhood i swear

[kinokoshoujoart]

scum woman guilt admission (SOS AWL betrayal test)

so a few months ago, in my first SOS AWL file i was curious to see if the betrayal mechanic was back (getting a girl’s 9 heart event and then giving your blue feather to someone else)

in awl if you cheat on nami, tei and lou were the ones who chew you out for it if you talk to them. now with the remake i wondered— what if i did the worst possible thing…

nami was oblivious to my philandering, and rock was oblivious to the fact i was already engaged. expected from him. talked to him to see if he’d comment on our engagement but the guys have no engagement dialogue, so i got the line above instead… uh.

same with the post engagement date, though it was just a bit more awkward at the end

i went to leave and she had been like meters away. oopsie… well, time to face the consequences of my actions!

no consequences! and i named my kid after her to apologize so we’re totally cool!

(i reset and made this file a nami file out of guilt)

[piosplayhouse]

Not going to get involved in the ao3 politics shit but I just want to say after reading some of the top posts on this site I can tell most of the people talking about this subject very clearly did not experience Sexytimes With Wangxian

[headfullof-ideas]

I’ve decided that in a modern AU, Snotlout is actually the one that drives everyone everywhere on long car rides in the gangs shared van. Here’s my reasoning.

Hiccup, while being a great driver, lives off of caffeine and spite, and if left to his own devices and too much caffeine, will try and do tricks in parking lots that usually end in him crashing. And once this boy hits the freeway, he goes as fast as humanely and legally possible.

Astrid gets road rage over every minor inconvenience, and doesn’t believe in right of way unless it applies to her. She also keeps the windows down at all times and speeds, even when it’s -25 degrees outside or there’s a hundred bugs outside.

The twins are actually decent drivers, but go out of their way to break every driving law possible, especially in the presence of cops. They’re infamous for numerous high speed car chases with the cops, and are on a first name basis with half the police force for their driving shenanigans alone.

Fishlegs drives like a grandpa: five to ten miles below the speed limit, uses his blinkers religiously, and waits too long to take an opening. When he does get behind the wheel, he also chooses the longest possible route to literally anywhere, insisting they enjoy the scenery. This usually ends with everyone being late to everything in varying degrees of tardiness.

Snotlout, while a bit of a hothead, with minor road rage issues of his own, doesn’t try and do something that’ll potentially wreck the car. He comes after everyone about leaving their garbage in it, nags Hiccup into teaching him how to do repairs on it. He refuses to drive after having a single drink, he hand washes it inside and out every month. He treats this car like it’s a temple…..mostly because it’s actually his car that he’s lent partial ownership to the others, which is also half the reason he’s the designated driver.