#i was trying soOOo hard from

[cozylittleartblog]

diversity win your spam emails are queer

[claitea]

i've had these scenarios written down since volo's debut in pokemon masters and i just really wanted to scribble them down and finally release them

[sallytwo]

Jennifer nearly jumped into the water / and she was tired like no one's ever been tired

[sydmarch]

drew this after the last dream to cheer myself up lmao (based on this)

[moonpaw]

Fighting DEMONS rn trying not to get invested in one piece to figure out wtf you're posting about!!!!

come here cyber.... we have this thang

‎

[evansbby]

my opinion on the Blake lively situation

[rexscanonwife]

What if I told you Barb is a he/him lesbian to me? What then?

[itsalwaysforyou]

the black sky and all those lights

a silly little something i wrote for jalentines!!

When Mal opens the dormitory door, Jay is standing in the hallway in his workout gear, hair tied up in a bun. He’s already grinning in that way he does when he wins a fight. Mal rolls her eyes at him. Grabbing her bag, she says bye to Evie, and joins Jay in the corridor. 

She scowls as they walk, her workout clothes tight on her skin. Jay had insisted they’d do things properly, and not in their usual leather. 

The hallways are decorated for Valentine’s Day, making Auradon Prep even more gaudy and colourful as usual. Pink and red hearts plastered across the walls, boasting the abundance of love here in Auradon. Jay’s had a thousand notes in his locker. Mal’s had none. Every morning, she watches Jay approach his locker like he would a target on the Isle. Weight forward, shoulders squared; ready to fight if needs be. And the paper falls to the floor like blood, only sickly pastel. Scrawled glittery gel pen. Words confessing passionate love, or asking him on dates, or doodles of hearts. Jay smiles the whole time. Greets and winks at girls. Scrunches those notes up in a fist. 

“Everywhere looks disgusting,” Mal says as they approach the sports hall. Heart-shaped bunting crests the doors.

Jay holds the door open for her. “It’s fun.”

“You would think that.”

The sports hall is mercifully free of décor. They drop their bags in the corner and begin to warm up, another stupid practice Jay insists on. His top rides up as he side-stretches. Isle rule: never show skin, especially to the enemy. Except, Jay loved to parade around in those stupid sleeveless vests. She’s yelled at him plenty of times about it—Are you insane? You’re a walking target. He would just grin and say, they’ll have to catch me first.

Jay laughs as he grabs the practice swords from their stands. “Here.” 

He throws it, and Mal catches. The weight in her hand is familiar. Already, her pulse is thrumming faster, and maybe if she closes her eyes she’ll be back on the docks, with the wind ripping at her hair, and the salt stinging her nose, and half a dozen of Uma’s crew jeering over the clanging of swords. 

Jay chucks her a mask too, before attaching one to his own face. The mesh turns her vision slightly hazy.

“Ready?” Jay asks.

Mal’s watched fencing practise a few times, mostly as an excuse not to do homework and instead watch her boys wipe the floor with all those prissy Auradon princes. Coach Jenkins appointed Jay captain of the team a few months ago, a role he takes more seriously than she’s ever seen him take anything. 

“Rassembler! Salute! Lower the point. Masks down. En guarde!”

Mal lunges first, which Jay clearly anticipates, parrying her blow. He circles. Strikes. Mal blocks it. He’s quick. Reflexes honed to a sword’s point; learned by practise and theory. Mal lashes out again, just catching his free arm before he jerks away. She grins underneath her mask. Her breath comes quicker. Jay’s blade arcs down, hitting her chest. Mal swats his blade away. She hears him laugh. She growls. Strike. Parry. Strike. Block. Strike. Jay lands another hit. Their shoes squeak against the linoleum floor. 

“Come on, Mal,” Jay teases. 

Mal lunges like a cat on its prey. Jay’s blade grates against hers like steel against flint. Jay may be quick but Mal’s smaller, and she weaves her way through Jay’s blade until they both have the sword’s point angled at each other’s chests. 

They’re both panting. Jay lowers his sword first. Takes off his mask. 

“You came in clutch at the end,” he says. 

Mal huffs, wiggling the mask off her face and wiping her forehead with a sleeve. “You actually get training.”

“And now I’m training you!” 

His hair has loosened during the sparring, spilling out at the seams. He unties the bun; flips his hair down and shakes it out. In this late-afternoon light, his hair could be made of gold. Hair longer than Mal’s ever had. 

He pulls his hair back into its bun, deft fingers making quick work. When he straightens back up again, his face is slightly flushed from the match. 

And Mal looks at this boy she’s known most of her life; this face and these hands; a boy that has held her at the end of the world and the start of a new one. And she snatches back down her mask. 

“Again,” she says, lifting up her sword. 

She’s swinging before Jay’s even had the chance to pull his own mask back down. Her blade slices against his chest, and she hears the breath escape from his lungs. 

“Fuck!’

Jay’s blocking her hits in no time. Mal grits her teeth. A boy who’s inhabited every place she’s ever been. The shadow along the street; a fixed point on the rooftops. Those long, quick fingers that know their way around bandage; around open flesh; around her own hands. Like a comet to Earth. Like an eclipse. Totally consuming. 

And here, where the sun shines brighter than they could have ever dreamed, she is left blistering. Those girls that fawn over Jay, professing their love with the same ease that Mal can hold a dagger to a throat. Jay’s clicking tongue, and that low fry to his voice when he’s chatting someone up. Everything is always so easy to him. He can wrap anyone around his finger with a wink. 

His blade slams into her stomach. Mal pants, the budding pain in her side clearing her head. Jay’s standing above her like some heavenly deity. 

“Best of four?” he offers.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“C’mon. Let’s take a break.”

Jay drops his sword and grabs his water bottle from his bag. Mal joins him, still gripping her sword, gulping down her water like a man in a desert. 

“We should do this again soon,” Jay says. 

“Tomorrow?”

“It’s the Valentine’s Ball tomorrow.”

Mal snorts. “Yeah, and?”

“I was gonna go.”

His words are coming too slow; too considered. Like when he used to talk about his dad, or a particularly bad Barge Day. Rehearsed. A guard dog who’s smelled danger, prowling at the sidelines. 

Mal presents her blade. “En guarde!” she shouts, and Jay ducks her swing before scrambling over to his own sword. 

“Really, Mal? Another sneak attack?”

“I’m keeping you on your toes.”

They waltz around the sports hall, the blades clashing and slicing and singing.

“We all agreed we weren’t going to go to the Ball,” Mal says, jabbing at Jay.

“We never agreed anything.”

Jay lands a blow. They are at the dockyard, with its rotting wooden pier and dead fish stench. The screeching of metal; the shouting; Mal’s heart hammering like the tide. Blood, and life. The roar in her ears. A dragon’s call. Body moving without a thought, as quick as a lightning strike. Not having to look behind her because she knows Jay is there.

“Exactly!” she says. “Why would we want to go to some stuffy Auradon ball?” Jay tries to say something but she ignores him. “Why would we care about Valentine’s Day? It’s corny, and over-commercialised, and a stupid excuse to make everything about love.”

Jay has her backed up against a wall. With no time to mount his mask, his lips are slightly parted, and his hair is escaping from his bun again. He looks just like he did on the Isle; none of his perfect prince act that fools Auradon. His sword hovers above her throat. 

“Do you yield?” His voice is low.

Mal stares at him. Those eyes that have seen every part of her. All the blood; every smile; her pale skin in the dark Isle nights. The boy that has beheld her every action; weighed it all against his own understanding of the world, and decided that they slot together as easily as a bullet in a pistol.

“Who are you going with to the Ball?” Mal asks. She’s still clutching her sword. She could claim the upper hand, if she really wanted.

A grin creeps across Jay’s face. All those notes and heart-shaped lollipops. The giggling girls at his locker. He could pick any one of them. All of them so beautiful, in their sunset-coloured dresses. He could have anything he wanted.

“Well,” Jay says. “I was going to ask you.”

The sword’s point makes sure they keep their distance. Never too close. All touches so light; so fleeting, as if you could’ve mistaken them for a dream. As if you could’ve imagined the whole thing. All those nights in the hideout where the barrier of the body seemed thin, and the world became so small: just two kids who wouldn’t even dare knock knees. 

So Mal shakes it all away with a laugh. “I’m not going to the Valentine’s Ball.”

Jay lowers his blade. Neither of them move. “Not even with me?” 

“I’m sure there’ll be plenty of other girls who actually want to go with you.”

“I want to go with you.”

His words echo through the empty hall. His word is as steadfast as ever, the only opinion Mal will ever trust. Compass, anchor: Jay does it all. 

Heralded here, Mal as real as the vast sky outside. Here, in his gaze, held aloft by trust where there shouldn’t be and compassion where there shouldn’t be and understanding where there shouldn’t be. A home for all her broken bones. 

Mal’s lips unfurl into a smile. This ache in her chest. In her throat. Jay always being able to disarm her. Jay in every place she’s ever been. Jay as her shadow; her skin; her second self. A reflection in the mirror. The line of separation is nonexistent. Like the sun, like the moon: one cannot exist without the other.

[becauseplot]

*returns to yours* I HAVE THOUGHTS! NOT COHERENT ONES TOO SLEEPY AND NEED TO SAVE COHERENCY BUT THOUGHTS!!! MOSTLY ABOUT ISLAND TEAPARTIES AFTER THE KIDS ARE ASLEEP WHERE CELLBIT AND PHILZA DRINK TEA AND PHILZA TEACHES CELLBIT ABOUT STARS AND CELLBIT SLOWLY GETS BACK INTO HIS ENIGMAS AND THEY BOTH BITCH ABOUT TEA BUT DRINK IT ANYWAY BECAUSE IT HAS GOOD STATS

YEAAH!! YEAHHH!!! Okay okay okay so I meant to ramble more earlier when you initially responded to my ask and then I got sleepy and conked out and now it's super early for me, nailed it lmaooo. so anyway just like a couple things i noticed abt this scene *rolls out a scroll of notes, the bottom hits the floor and bounces out the door cartoon-style*

Chayanne gives Cellbit a rose!! Idk if Rose still has influence here (I'll have to sift through Phil's VOD to see if he says anything abt Rose, yesterday I mainly watched Cellbit's POV) but he's protected now!! That kinda folds him into Phil's "closer" circle of friends/family since it's primarily them who carries the roses for protection so!!!!! I'm!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE TEA!! Yes the tea the way the tea immediately broaches the topic of purgatory, and yeah the audible wince in Phil's voice after Cellbit says the tea triggers him and Phil agrees. Yeah it's so shit and they're both so sick of it but it's so OP. Phil survivalist (hardcore) :handshake: Cellbit survivalist (hunger games/"The War"), do and use what is necessary to keep yourself alive.

And AAA!! Yes, okay okay so like you remember that idea abt Phil and Cellbit having late-night convos at the Order pre-purgatory? This is basically that!! It's late at night, they're getting caught up with each other, they've both got the shitass tea and it's going cold and!! In my head this scene goes on for a full night and they just sit and talk and talk and talk, eventually conking out when it's late, just like old times EXCEPT THEY HAVE THEIR KIDS NOW WHICH IS ONE OF THE THINGS THAT BROUGHT THEM TOGETHER, THEIR DESIRE TO FIND THEIR KIDS, AND THEY FOUND THEM!!! (I should write a fic i NEED to write a fic, me vs the 754389 wips in my brain; in my head they still had late night convos in purgatory when their "play time" timers lined up, phil waking up early enough and cellbit staying up late enough for them to talk while the others slept)

The way Cellbit still minces his words abt what he and Bags did post-purg 1 "we had our fun...bolas...style..." is it because he thinks Phil will think less of him? because there's children present? because his SON is present? idk how much Richas knows abt what Cellbit did in purgatory, Richas *did* rescue him while he was fighting eye workers but does he know about Cellbit hunting fellow players for sport? what Cellbit did to his pai Pac? I NEED ANSWERS

Phil's "Dude! No! Oh my god... D:" to when Cellbit says Roier was better off without him. PHIL WAS AT THEIR WEDDING. HE TOOK THE GODDAMN PHOTOS OF THEM AT THEIR WEDDING. HE SAW HOW HAPPY THEY WERE, HOW HAPPY ROIER WAS, WHEN THEY WERE REUNITED IN PURGATORY. Phil isn't close enough to Roier nor speaks to him enough to really understand the full extent of Roier's grief after purgatory 1, but it's gotta be hard for Phil to imagine Roier happy with Cellbit gone. Whether he believes it when Cellbit says "yeah Roier told me he was better" (doied WHEN I GET YOU---) is up for debate but I think about this constantly.

Phil fucking laughing when Cellbit admits he ate some of the eye workers fhdjsk. I can't get over the combo of Cellbit POV (in character thinking: "I'm terrible I'm a cannibal I'm a monster") vs Philza POV (cc who laughs at everything that is even remotely cursed) honestly, taking this as in-character (bc ccPhil doesn't mute his mic to laugh and he...usually does that for ooc bits while in the middle of rp), it says a lot abt qPhil that he's able to just laugh abt an admission of eating corpses. ethics who? geneva convention who? qPhil doesn't know her. munch on those eye workers king they're dickheads. (fuck, DOES qPhil know that Cellbit is a cannibal, as in, he has eaten not just workers but other players?? hmmm...)

"I'm sorry I couldn't do much as bolas leader" "It's better that you didn't see us...I think you'll be disappointed" "oh I could never be disappointed what do you mean shut up *laughs*" GODDDDDDDD also Cellbit trying to say he got worse after purg 1 and Phil saying "nah bolas is already at ground level" (either not understanding or indirectly reiterating that he won't condemn Cellbit for his actions, I can't tell) and then Cellbit just,, going with it. because it's not worth it to argue and he's trying to move past all of that now anyway. (QCELLBIT PROCESS YOUR TRAUMA CHALLENGE LEVEL IMPOSSIBLE)

watching Phil's POV now and HFDJSK you can't hear it on Cellbit's stream but Phil catches Richas as they're both leaving and says quietly, "Take care of your dad, Richas, n' take care." I'M 💥💥💥💥 (<-banging table)

Anyway!! This is what happens when the two characters I'm obsessed with interact for the first time in months. Over-analyzing a 5 minute convo. Sorry, it will happen again :] Praying they stay as neighbors I'd love to see archivists have more interactions!! And yes yes yes yes the tea parties with the kids!! Phil routinely chatting with Cellbit and watching him slowly "regain his color" as he settles back into peaceful life post-purgatory, falls in love with enigmas again. They've always trusted each other when they don't trust themselves, and they're both a Stable Point for the other. I'll miss what we never got to have with the leaders-of-the-Order-having-meetings ideas (timezones, wails) but I'm so excited for new island mysteries!! :D

[ravenxbones]

once again for my inking class! here’s the bridge crew of the enterprise (+ mccoy and scotty and minus chekov). definitely had fun with this one, tried to do some practice with perspective and a weird angle and environments since those are out of my comfort zone! there are definitely some flaws in it but for not being able to ctrl + z i think this went pretty well! 🥳

[koka-mi]

najdbdhdjeh I wanna be held while I sleep so badly tbh it sounds so much more relaxing :'D

[harpieisthecarpie]

finally finished the bl manhwa Pond Snail Robber (after literal years) and I'm obsessed with one of the secondary characters' dog

Look! LOOK!! LOOK AT THE PUPPY!!!

Posiki how I adore you, I would date your owner just so I could pet you.

Tempted to go back and grab as many Posiki panels as possible

[sophiethewitch1]

I just read your spoiler for Mr Richard Grayson, and it is SO funny :))

How far ahead do you plan or outline or write your plot/things?

Me and the 2 thousand word www outline stare at you with tired eyes. I have at least 4 (probably 5) arcs planned and we've just finished the beginning of the first. I'm crying on the floor. But for real it's always about up to the ending that I have plotted which I am pretty atrocious at but like, I've never actually had to deal with that since I've never finished anything ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Still though I do most of my plotting ahead, there will often be random scenes that popup without my planning. The meeting of Red Hood was one such. I knew reader needed to be rescued somehow, but I didn't really think about it till I was actually writing it, and randomly got one of my favourite scenes in the fic :D

[icewindandboringhorror]

........creachure

[stonerzelda]

idk what to say anymore lol like kinda have to think im the problem when it comes to jobs now....maybe i am asking too much to have decent customers And coworkers And like general good environment. Idk. I just complain about every job i get which on one hand: duh but in the other: ok u probably cant have it both ways gabi lol

[thebluestbluewords]

cinderellaverse?? In my 2024??

it’s more likely than you think!

(for context: the rotten ot4 are wildly codependent, Ben is possibly seducing them all via unreciprocated acts of kindness, and this takes place directly after the iconic Good Boy scene, only with some AU changes that aren’t ready to post yet).

(why am i posting this if no other context is finished yet??? Because I’m needy and crave validation. Next question, please).

+

“Ugh,” Mal agrees. She looks mostly asleep still, which is understandable. “Weird. Did you eat yet?” 

Carlos lifts the napkin-wrapped bundle in his hands. “I brought food. To share. If you want.” 

This, predictably, gets Mal up. They’re far enough away from the isle that Carlos can almost believe that their parents aren’t lurking behind every dark corner of the castle, but not so far that they’ll turn down fresh food, even at stupid early hours.

“Berries?” 

“Yeah. Brought berries for you. And muffins.” 

“Evie wants chocolate,” Mal says immediately, stretching out both hands for the napkin-wrapped bundle. “And weird that Ben made you meet someone new. I thought we’d already been subjected to every princess-type in the school by now.” 

“Not a person. He made me meet a— a dog.” 

Mal stops with the muffins in her hands still outstretched. “Oh,” she says carefully, which is nice of her. Their Auradon education must be kicking in, or some shit. “And you’re not halfway home?” 

“I was. But Ben sort of—put the dog away and tracked me down? He was cool about it. We went over afterwards to check out the stables, cause he thought maybe it was like, just animals I don’t like, and they’ve got cats and stuff there. And the dog was on a leash, and he’s actually super tiny and not murderous.” Carlos shrugs, telegraphing the motion as much as he can. Which isn’t much. He’s supposed to be working on the whole expressing emotions thing. Even though it’s so much easier to shut down entirely whenever he feels an emotion. “So yeah. Still alive, still here! And Ben’s being weird.” 

“Weird how?” 

“Just weird. He was being all nice and stuff. D’you think he���s been bribed by Fairy Godmother to get info on us?” 

“Might be,” Mal agrees, tearing into her muffin. She’s unwrapped the whole bundle, and laid them out in an order that’s got to make sense in her head. (it shouldn’t make sense. They can’t afford to be predictable. Predictable is how you get your lunch stolen, or poisoned, or eaten by pirates who think it’s funny to take a perfectly rotten sandwich and swap it out for seaweed slime). “You should eat though. You didn’t tell him anything, right?” 

Carlos pulls a scrap off the cinnamon sugar muffin. It’s the one Mal’s put in his assigned spot, which is directly across from her own, with Evie’s double chocolate on the left and Jay’s lemon poppyseed on the right. He’s not really hungry, but it’s still too much to turn down food, so he rolls it between his fingers until half of the sugar falls off into the napkin, and the rest of it is compressed into the smallest possible ball of muffin flesh. He can eat a little piece of it, and then Mal will stop asking, and he can eat for real later. Once he’s alone. 

He pops the ball of muffin into his mouth. “No. Not really.” 

Mal shoves another mouthful of muffin into her mouth. She picked the blueberry one, and it turns the whole mess of it vividly purple as she chews. “Cool. He’s probably just being a royal brat then, trying to get some new intel for the gossip mill. But hey, it’s cool that he showed you the stables. Maybe next time we need to get to town you can steal us a horse, yeah?” 

Carlos snorts. He’s seen a horse now, and there’s no way they can get away with stealing something that big and ornery. Cars might be bigger, but they don’t bite and they don’t poop and they don’t have teeth the size of his fingers and a desire to bite through anything that looks even remotely like a carrot. “Yeah, no. Horses are fucking giant.” 

“I wouldn’t know,” Mal says casually. She throws one of her loose berries up so she can catch it in her teeth. Sometimes, when it’s just the four of them, Mal forgets to act human and does things like this. Things where she snatches treats out of the air with her teeth, when her neck bends in ways that a human’s shouldn’t, like she’s forgotten that she only has seven bones in her neck and not seventeen like a standard dragon. “Nobody ever wakes me up at the crack of dawn to show me cool shit.” 

Carlos wants to laugh and make this whole thing normal, but he’s fucking exhausted and the cinnamon sugar from the muffin is sticky on his fingers. He’s been trying to pull it apart carefully so that his whole hands don’t get covered in the crumbly topping, but that’s been working about as well as their escape plan so far, which is to say not at fucking all. “Yeah, yeah. He also made us run laps first, don’t be jealous.” 

Mal snaps her teeth. “I’ll be whatever I want. He didn’t do anything else?“ 

“Nope.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yes, mom. He just wanted to talk a bunch about how we’re settling in. And how we’re doing emotionally.”