#hmmmm i am Thinking about it

[byanyan]

hmmm, thinking i might need to concoct a verse where byan ends up becoming a tattoo artist. every time i discuss them doing a tattoo for another muse, i realize all over again how excited and enthusiastic they get about it

[vagueconfusion]

Feeling real ridiculous for not having realized that Baron's "stark father" was the Nightmare King until now

[spooksier]

guys theres a comics teaching position open at a community art space in my city and i think i might apply……..

[stevebabey]

ok brain whipped up this concept & would NOT leave it alone today so here. have this. this is like ‘started making it. had a breakdown. bon appétit’ in a steddie post for me but alas <3 cw: talks of past sexual coercion

Eddie is mad at Steve.

Which, honestly, might be the worst thing in the entire damn world for all Steve cares. The whole world feels just a little bit off kilter when Eddie’s mad at Steve — because Eddie just loooves the silent treatment.

He��ll usually make a show of it. Pout and stick out his bottom lip, cross his arms, maybe even give a stamp on his big booted feet. Doesn’t say what’s wrong, just glares sulkily. It’s a bit childish, they both know, but Eddie likes to be doted and Steve loves to do the doting — and it hasn’t caused any proper fights yet.

This time, however, he can tell Eddie is more mad than usual, because this time he hadn’t thrown the usual fuss. Instead, he’d just gone quiet. All glowers and glares. Not even a pout, and certainly not a peep.  

And it’s just the worst because the version of Eddie that Steve knows best is a chatterbox. Can’t shut up, won’t shut up. Steve normally loves it.

And alright— maybe Steve deserved it for not picking him up after one of Eddie’s gigs. Especially because Eddie had specifically asked him too as well, considering his own van was in the shop.

But it’s not like Steve could control when his parents decided to waltz back into Hawkins!

They always seemed to run on their own timetable, or on what seemed like an entirely different orbit. Yet, they had no trouble roping Steve back into their routine, stuffing him back into a place, without any regard to his opinion on the matter. Which was exactly what they had done that evening.

But that didn’t really matter, Steve thinks with a sigh, because he knows it’s not really just because he didn’t pick Eddie up. It was because of what Steve said.

Gareth’s mom had swung by and while Eddie had gotten an eyeful of that suspicious look that followed him everywhere since the events of the Upside Down, Eddie had gotten home safely. Majorly annoyed but safe which was what mattered most.

He had then released his said-annoyance onto Steve.

But see, Steve was already tired from the prodding and lecturing of his parents. They’d been awfully disappointed to find he had yet to move on from his job at Family Video and worse, had badmouthed his choice of friends. Had brought up Tommy and the likes, asked pointedly why Steve hadn’t been seen with them in a few months.

Steve had bit his tongue to not spew out the fact he hadn’t been seen with Tommy for years and that was unlikely to change any time soon.

So, yeah, he was wound up. And Eddie was too. A bit too impatient, a bit too cut that he’d been on the receiving end of yet another scathing interaction because Steve had been so careless to forget to pick him up.

He’d said as much, jabbing a finger and dramatically reenacting the tense conversation he’d had to have with Gareth’s mother.

It had led to a spat, which led to an argument. Steve sat on the bed in Eddie’s trailer and toyed with a loose thread as Eddie pacing before him.

“You should’ve been there.”

“I know.” Steve ground out the words, eyes on the floor, feeling too much like he was still back home, still being lectured by his father about his good-for-nothing son. The thread was coming looser in his fingers with all his fiddling.

“You know? Is that all you’re gonna say?” Eddie asked, exasperated, but the moment Steve’s lip part to respond, Eddie had steamrolled on. Gareth’s awkward smile and his mother’s tight bunched up shoulders were still fresh in his memory.

“Great! That’s just fantastic, Steve. You knew and you still didn’t show up!”

Steve’s head shot up, brow furrowed. “That’s not what I meant.”

Like a kettle coming to boil, Steve could feel some bitchy comment lurch up his throat with his growing frustration. It was easy to think of things to say to hurt Eddie, to lash out, to make it so Eddie was the one with his head bowed, voice quiet.

Steve had learned that the hard part in these moments, is biting his tongue. Swallowing back mean comments. He doesn’t want to be vicious. Loathes the idea of falling back on snarky comments to win a fight, least of all with his boyfriend.

But... old habits die hard.

So, when Eddie had got all up in his face, firing himself up, and said, “Oh, pray tell then Steve what was so important that made you fucking forget your boyfriend.”

Steve had snapped.

“Fuck, do you ever stop? You are so much sometimes!”

The words had flown out in a harsh sneer and they hit their mark exactly as intended.

Because Steve knew all about that strange bubble of fear that lives inside Eddie— the part that didn’t care at all what strangers thought of him, but cared so much about those he came to trust. The part that worried that being big and brash all the time would be too much for people. That the reason they originally liked Eddie, would become the same reason they’d eventually dislike him for.

Steve had once told him he couldn’t ever get enough of him— let alone too much. It’s why he’d known where to strike.

Eddie’s expression has flinched, his eyes going from simmering to hurt in a few seconds flat. His fists unclenched at his side and Steve had felt the regret curdling up in his gut, a terrible sour feeling that had him shooting to his feet in an instant.

“Eddie, wait, I—”

“Leave.” Eddie said, voice dangerously low. There wasn’t room to push it. Nothing left to argue.

But still, Steve had wavered, swaying as a tidal wave of shame burned hot up his neck. He wanted to fix it. He needed to fix this.

But Eddie couldn’t look at him, eyes fixed on the ground and despite how much it had pained Steve to go, he knew he couldn’t fix it, not then and there. The door had hit him on the way out.

That had been two whole days ago. The guilt of it makes it feel like it was hours ago, still fresh as ever.

Steve had been diligent in giving Eddie his space to cool off.

The call Steve made the morning after never got picked up, just rang endlessly until the voicemail kicked in. Even though Eddie was always home Wednesdays. It told Steve well enough that Eddie was still well and truly mad.

Which was fair enough. Steve had been an asshole. Let himself fall back on old habits and stab a weak spot he only knew because Eddie trusted him, then twisted the knife as well.

But it’s like he said — silent treatment from the guy who usually can’t keep quiet is discerning to say the least. It itches uncomfortably at Steve who finds himself unusually eager to apologise.

Because, damn, if Steve doesn’t hate apologising.

Apologising means pulling out the stops, means admitting shamefully everything you’d done wrong, means having to prove how sorry you were.

It had been like that living under his father. When he was seven, Tommy had accidentally pitched a baseball through one of the windows. It had smashed right through, completely shattered. Steve had taken the fall.

He’d said sorry, head bowed, even though it had been an accident. And after he’d made Steve repeat his apology til it was a rigid phrase in his mouth, Richard Harrington had said; ‘Well, why don’t you prove how sorry you are, Steven?’

He’d ended up being his father’s personal beer boy for that week. Fetching them ice-cold from the garage at his father’s every call, from the moment he was home from school, to prove the apology was legitimate.

It had worked— after a week of doting, extra effort into keeping his room clean and to keep his father happy, Richard had permitted his son a rare smile and ruffle of his hair. ‘See? I know you were sorry now.’

Steve had learnt quickly in his childhood to go to lengths to avoid trouble with his father. To avoid the tumultuous apologies he’d have to perform, jumping through hoop after hoop for forgiveness.

But even then, Steve couldn’t escape them with friends, and especially not with girlfriends.

Tilly had been like that too. She’d been Steve’s freshman girlfriend, eyeshadow baby blue and lips always glossy. When Steve did things she didn’t like —spent Saturdays with his other friends, was late to dates— she’d pout her glittery lips and bat her eyes. ‘Aren’t you gonna make it up to me?’

Steve had — had pulled out the stops, emptied his pocket change to buy her flowers, went to second base because she really wanted him to, all to prove his apology. Until Tilly was back to her sugary smiles and fluttering hazel eyes.

It had even been like that with Nancy, though not quite to that extent. Forking out his savings to buy the nicest bouquet he could find, prepared to make it up to her, even if he wasn’t quite sure if it was him who was supposed to be apologising. But she’d gone silent treatment on him, so…

So, Steve hates apologising— but even more than that, is how much he hates Eddie’s quiet. So, when his boyfriend calls the Family Video on Friday midday, when he knows Steve’s soloing, and invites him over, Steve prepares himself for the grovelling to come.

The mixtape he’d already made sits in the gearbox of his car, carried around with him since he finished it. Upon hanging up the phone, Steve’s eyes catch on the florist across the street. His mind spins with all his knowledge of Eddie’s favourites — should he get those sour candies Eddie loved so much as well?Would it be too much?

Steve scoffs at the irony of his worries, considering what he was apologising for. Besides, it was never too much. There were never enough things to show he was sorry.

And Eddie couldn’t exactly be bought — not that was what this was. But Steve knew his boyfriend preferred all things in the manner of touch. That Steve’s affection was a far higher currency than anything bought with money.

That’s fine. Steve can do that.

He’s got a whole speech planned, honest. The smudged bullet points scrawled on his palm are testament to that, there to keep him on track and Steve checks them over religiously as he drives over after his shift.

It all goes out the window when Eddie opens the door, because Steve’s heart hiccups, splutters, soars forward in his chest.

Eddie looks just the same, his usual ripped jeans and dark shirt with a band Steve doesn’t know and yet— yet.

Steve is overcome by how much he missed Eddie.

Overcome at how those two days felt like two weeks to him. His mouth opens and the words burst out, “I’m sorry.”

part two.

[crystallizsch]

uh hi. meet jas(mine)???

[crazyspookies]

''im going to make a mage to romance the magekiller for drama'' i understand this and i love your mind buuuuut im not sure there's going to be any drama on that front? for the most part he's only been killing Venatori recently (who he very much dislikes cause they're p much shitty and evil) which are the ones he's been recieving contracts to kill most recently by an ''anonymus client'' (almost surely the inquisition, probably as a test of competency/character) although killing mages might be his specialty? He's done it enough to be able to sense magic in the air but what im saying is that he doesn't necessarily hate mages like brrr i want to kill em all kinda way

[madou-dilou]

"Each unjust act, even committed for the sake of a just cause, carries its curse within." The Accursed Kings, 1956

[stevethehairington]

okay so it wouldn't be like a DIRECT au of it, just like a heavily inspired by, but BUDDIE TWISTER/TWISTERS AU:

so. buck is a storm chaser. he's got his team, him and a few others, and then abby, his girlfriend. they're working on trying to find a way to tame a twister — to get it to stop before it can start enough to do it's damage. they think they've finally got it, only when they go to put it into test there is a horrible accident and buck loses the whole team, except abby. the two of them are the only survivors. and it is DEVASTATING, but buck is like at least abby and i can lean on each other in our grief, we can get through this together. only abby quits. she quits stormchasing then and there and she leaves, just disappears, leaving buck alone with his grief. (if we want to be Extra Angsty, perhaps she even leaves with some sort of comment that implies she blames him for what happened).

so buck quits too — only it's not a permanent quit, of course. his sisters boyfriend, chimney, is a stormchaser, and when bucks home visiting maddie one day, chimney is there and he's talking about his teams plan (maybe his team was also after the same sort of twister tamer thing — maybe even based off of bucks teams initial research) and he's asking buck about it and buck hasn't thought about this stuff in a while (lies; he's thought about that incident every day since it happened.) but like enough time has passed that talking about it with someone else who's enthusiastic about the research rather than just interested in the tragedy of it all, starts to excite him a little too. and chimney tells him he should come with, when he and his team head out in a week. and after some Thinking and some encouragement from maddie, buck agrees and goes with chimney.

and so buck joins the 118 — consisting of chimney and hen and bobby (and maybe ravi too bc i love ravi okay). and it's good. they're a great team, brilliant, and they're all about helping people too. like, yes, their research is important to them, and they're fighting tooth and nail to achieve their goal, but they're put that on pause if there's even a chance for them to go help people evacuate or find shelter or clean up in the aftermath — and that's something buck really loves about the team. bc that's all he wants to do, help people. so buck fits right in with them and it's. it's fun, again. he did miss this.

and, of course, the 118 has a riiiiiival team — another group of stormchasers who are ALSO trying to find a way to stop the twisters before they can do their damage. they're both close, so it's kind of like a competition between them, which team will capture success first? but this team (not really sure who it'll consist of yet) but im undecided on if eddie would be the leader of the group or if he's just a team member, but. eddie dia,z with his sweeeeet texan twang, and his big cowboy hat and his flashy belt buckles and his charm, he's there. and their team is popular in the stormchasing world, and everyone's eyes are on them too.

but like it's always those two — the 118 and eddies team — at the forefront of it all, they're always chasing the same storms.

and both teams are on the cusp of a big storm, but the 118 catch wind that there's a small town in the path of this one, and they decide instead of following the twisters they're going to head to the town to help the people there. and they end up veering off the path and eddie notices and then HE finds out about the town and he tells his team they need to go help too but his team is like dude NO we gotta get to the twister, the 118 are gone so this is our chance to be the ones to test our tornado tamer solution, WE could beat them. and like eddies team has clearly lost the whole point of all of this — to save people. but HE hasn't, so he goes rogue and he heads to the town instead, where he finds the 118 and they're a bit wary of him at first bc it feels out of character for someone from his team to be here doing this rather than chasing the storm, but at this point im thinking buck and eddie have already had some conversations (MAYBE eddie has actually saved buck once already too so like that trust between them is already built) and buck just immediately starts shouting instructions and eddie falls into line with them and the two of them work flawlessly together and the rest of the 118 is like yeah okay he's good people and they welcome him in too.

and maybe eddies team runs into trouble too and eddie catches wind of it (he's still connected to their radios maybe?) and he's like fuck we gotta help them too so he and buck break off to go help that team (bc even if they're the 118's rivals and even if they're on the verge of the breakthrough the 118 has been chasing too, that doesn't matter rn. what matters is saving as many lives as possible) so the two of them break off to go help and they DO but eddies teams solution DOESNT work, but they took the 118's truck that was loaded with THEIR solution so buck and eddie let that loose and THAT DOES end up working and so buck and eddie save eddies team AND the town AND each other.

and, OF COURSE, through all of that buck and eddie fall in love, and in the end eddie ends up joining buck's team, and they chase storms together, and when they have bad days, when they have close calls, they're there for each other and they're not going anywhere, and they ALWAYS have each other's backs <3

[palestporn]

Your moirail likes to touch you.

It's another symptom of his damage, really, all the pitiful, cracked bullshit about him wrapped up in the needy, hungry way he strokes your hair or your horns or takes daring, glancing reach-arounds to brush a hand over your back. Trolls are tough as chitin and claws, and you don't give a shit about your aberrant mutant blood, you're a troll through and through.

You shouldn't like to be touched. You don't.

But Gamzee does. And you, for some godforsaken reason, are infected with some kind of disease that makes you tolerate him.

It's cold tonight, and you can tell as soon as you wake up because Gamzee's curled around you like a grub, face buried in the back of your neck and hands rubbing absently up and down your belly. You have the slime set pretty warm, but not warm enough, apparently. When you move to get untangled, Gamzee grumbles and groans and reels you in even harder, nuzzling behind your ear.

You're a troll, you don't care about being touched. But you also can't get away. So you settle, and grumpily let him pet sleepily at your face, your chest, your neck. The slight, rough scrape of the pads on his palms and then the prickling, controlled threat of his claws.

You don't need to be touched. You don't need anybody for anything. A troll is an island. A troll doesn't give a shit. A troll doesn't get frustrated and irritable if they have to go a few weeks without their moirail touching them, so you don't. You don't.

You don't realize you're purring until he starts purring too. The tips of his claws trail across the curve of your thoracic cage, prickle and knead at you like you're some kind of wriggler comfort object, and you try to choke down the rusty rumble in your thorax and can't make it happen.

Gamzee mumbles, "Best friend, beats every miracle on the sand, sea and sky how sweet you turn for me touching you," and curls around you a little tighter, bites harmlessly at the side of your neck and the nape, where the hair trails off down your posture column. For a second all of his claws and his fangs press just hard enough to catch you still, breath hitching--then his palms smooth past the place his claws pricked at you, and he nuzzles his bare cheek against the mark of his teeth, and you're purring even louder, melting into warm, stupid shivers.

You understand what he actually said a second later, and are immediately, breathlessly indignant.

"I'm, you, fuck you," you retort, which is far from your best work, but in your defense your moirail is a soft embarrassment of a troll and he won't stop touching you, bundling you up into the curve of his freakishly long body, petting the line of one of your thighs, kneading a tense muscle there, going back to rubbing the place your purr hums at the base of your thoracic cage. "I'm humoring you, dipshit, because apparently you fucked up too many cartwheels when you were a wriggler and sloshed most of your panmatter out of your ears."

Gamzee gives a rattling, huffing chirr of amusement, melting into an actual laugh when you growl at him. "If you say so, brother," he says, soothed amiable, and nips at the back of your neck again, where he's definitely going to leave a really obvious mark for all of your chucklefuck hatefriends to hoot about.

"You're embarrassing both of us."

"Aww, motherfucker, that right?"

"You're-- It's not a-- What do you fucking think I am, some kind of--of touch-dependent mammal, huddling in its shitty brood-den with all its wriggling, hairless birth-pupas--"

Gamzee's snickering at you again. "I bet mammals don't purr so nice, best friend."

"Fuck you," you say again, with feeling, and twist half-heartedly at his grip again. He clicks his fangs, a disappointed little noise, and just holds you tighter, tight enough it aches just a little. Tight like it doesn't matter what you are or what you want, or what you don't want to want. He's not letting you go.

You don't like it. You don't, you don't, you don't. A good troll wouldn't. You don't.

He's mumbling some kind of highblood benediction into your hair, some nightmarish honking thing about being anointed in the wicked elixir and the stardust in your eyes. But his claws come to your face, a huge, cool frond wrapped all the way around to cup your cheek, and when his thumbclaw rests on your lip it's just heavy enough to shut you the fuck up, just light enough you know he's not going to hurt you. Just threatening enough to send a thrilling pale shiver through your palms and down your spine, and safe like you can only be like this.

"Little motherfucker gets so fucking hungry for it when he's lonely," Gamzee murmurs, and presses a little harder when you try to open your mouth to argue. "Nah-ah-ah, best friend, shoosh. Shhhh. You're so motherfucking warm, and look at you all soft all over, like clouds or some shit... Lemme all get my feel on. Get a good motherfucking grab-around at you going."

You bite his finger in revenge, a whole lot gentler than you could considering how tough highblood skin is. He laughs at you and then moves all in a rush, pins you into a tight little ball with your arms at your sides and your knees to your chest and dunks you in the sopor, bringing you up growling and squirming.

"What the fuck was that for?!"

"Shooshing," he says, and pats your face again with a stupid-sounding splap-splap noise. "Rowdy little motherfucker's gotta chill the fuck down. And hey, check it out."

His hands find both of your horns, and he combs the sopor through your hair with delicate clawtips and then rubs the sopor at the roots of your horns, right where thin skin gives way to the slight velvet at the bases.

The cool pressure feels completely different combined with the humming, numb-sensitive tingle of sopor, and you're immediately rendered hopelessly, humiliatingly compliant. You melt like a frozen beverage block at high noon in the desert. You make a noise you would murder any of your enemies or friends for hearing. You croon like a pupa who just discovered cotton candy. You'll fucking savage him if he stops.

"...'S real motherfucking sweet how you like it," he says again, peacefully, and this time you feel way too damn good to make yourself argue.

[officialbabayaga]

when i visited my cousin after a christmas party he had 18 bottles of champagne left over so his mom made me take like 4 of them, anyway i finally opened one for the first time today because i got a 3.93 semester gpa, which has bumped my cumulative gpa up enough to be a competitive candidate for PhD programs i’m applying to in the fall. and it’s great champagne

[catliker49]

I AM SO HAPPY! For the next 10 weeks I get to work on whatever I Like in college! Wally puppet here I come!! Muahaha!

Hoping they don’t mind me using pre-made cut out thingies and such..

[killedbythedog]

i’m surrounded by canines /pos/aff

[all-thestories-aretrue]

Episode 91 Nara to Neil: Is it because you know, because you know that my affection is a means to an end or do you feel something for Wynn and don't know how to say it?

Episode 95 Neil to Wynn: If this is a moment where there’s a line in the sand about us staying together, you know I’ll follow you to go die.

Episode 91 Neil to Nara: I haven’t known these things maybe for a long time, and so I just sit in inaction because I don’t know.

Episode 95 Narration of Neil by Rob: When Wynn confirms to Britta that she’s in love with Kabir, Neil goes stock still.

[smol-blue-bird]

today in insane anti-intellectualism: I just saw a post about how aspiring healthcare practitioners shouldn't take classes in biology and chemistry because those subjects are useless and bad. ????

[razzle-zazzle]

Ok tell us about imposter au bc 👀👀👀

OH MY GOD I FORGOT ABOUT THIS ONE.

Okay so. without looking through my old stuff for it. What can I remember off the top of my head.... there were clones, I know that, and the clone the story focused on, #424, mainly had an arc about realizing he's not Cole but Cole's clone and then having an existential crisis + becoming his own person.

And then I think the OG Cole destroyed the facility making the clones and then fucked off to be a hermit in the woods because.... OH YEAH he found a BABY in the rubble and needed to protect it! I can't recall if the baby was a clone of all the ninja or just some of them.... I think they were called Coffee though?

Man, some of my old AUs really were just. Whatever concepts I wanted. And I was so real for that kind of self-indulgence actually. I need to be sillier with it tbh

[crybaby-bkg]

Jennifer’s body au with ochako ☝🏼🫵🏼 (I’ve never seen the movie) (would she even fit in this particular context)