#like not into canon obviously bc well

[annie-thyme]

okay so. I've binged almost all of leverage (3 eps left) and now wanna scream and chew cardboard I mean. I mean. hear me out here okay?

first I was like yeah okay sure I'm in a not doing things mood so might as well watch. I don't know any of these ppl except for like a handful of guest stars, but I liked the team's brand of weird and their dynamics basically right from the first ep. and sure the show's a little naive and a lot moralizing (don't like the moralizing), but the banter and the shenanigans and the fact that I suddenly remembered that I like heist movies but somehow haven't watched leverage until now is what kept me clicking on the next ep and the next and the next.

and I mean. this is tumblr ive seen gifsets here and there and I'm aware of the ship (you cannot be on this webbed site and not be aware of the existence of basically every major ship in basically everything, so) - but for the entire 4 and a half seasons I was like yep yep love the dynamic and really love the whole slow progression of rivals to teammates to friends and yeah okay Parker and Hardison dating makes sense but I'm not feral abt it and I still cannot see the threeway ship I mean they're friends and I love that for them and then AND THEN. and then I watched the dc ep. you know the one I mean. with the bomb and the virus and all the intense feelings and and I'm like *Eliot voice* oh come on!!! I did not require any new ships like I'm not much of a fandom person at all these days and yet here we are. facepalms and muffled screams into the pillow.

and I was like where! is more! of that I need more of that!!! after the dc ep and honestly I've watched the next couple eps on autopilot waiting for well not the progression but the same intensity of the dynamic at least but hahaha no said the show. and now it's 8 am and I'm writing this instead of sleeping or diving headfirst into the deep end of the fic pool and I know there's still those three eps left and then the entire renewed show but it's too much and not enough at the same time do you know what I mean

[unganseylike]

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“Love Like Ghosts" // The Raven Cycle

When your true love is destined to die, is already dead, or will always be leaving. And other moments of ghostliness. 

[chayannesegg]

might be worth noting that tubbo got lore today because he made it canon he warped back from the boat.

i think this was confusing bc he wasn't sure initially how to play it (he is not a lore guy by trade we all know this), and waffled back and forth with it (with fun bits like "it's tuesday" or "it's a time rift"), but he definitely did make it canon.

he has the story: the boat didn't leave, he had his warpstone. he knew they would just steal him back, like they did the first time.

he has the reason: he desperately needed to see sunny before he left; couldn't sit idly by

and he made it clear that's what he wants to have happened. he told his chat to stop "-rp point"-ing him about it multiple times bc he's trying to make it canon (and told fit the same when he came back post-ghost bit).

he also asked sunny's admin whether she wanted their interactions to be filler or canon and she chose canon

plus he had a canon interaction with forever explaining it and asking him to watch over his daughter

and he and sunny built things and interacted with each other based specifically off the info he was kidnapped, that he will have to go, and that they both knew it was coming

so while you may have to ignore or recontextualize some of the goofier interactions when he initially came back (phil/etoiles/fit stuff esp), tubbo did come back, the code attack did happen, it's already been fit into the lore, and i don't doubt sunny is going to tell fit about it this week!!

[al-luviec]

juvie buddies

[where-the-water-flows]

canon divergence where the poison kicks in earlier/harder, and so instead of having their Dramatique Divorce Hatefuck Fight in the east sea, Di Feisheng gets to whatever beach he's going to storm the sigu sect/fight Xiangyi on etc, and finds Li Xiangyi face down in the sand, poisoned to shit and barely breathing, clearly in zero state to fight because of the near death experience he is currently, uh, experiencing.

no worries though, Di Feisheng has medicine demon on call. Clearly whatever the fuck is going on here is uhhhh Incredibly Sus, given someone has now tried to murder both of the leaders of Sigu sect and apparently actually succeeded killing 1/2, but honestly, not really Di Feisheng's problem! his problem is getting Xiangyi back into fighting shape and then, y'know, fighting him. best of luck to the Sigu sect but he's different.

except of course he -- and everyone else on the boat, one assumes -- rock back up to medicine demon's weird offsite lab living situation, and medicine demon is like good news boss I recognise this poison! bad news boss it's super ultra fatal and also the poison is coming from inside the house alliance

which is very extremely no bueno, both because uhhh who the fuck betrayed him like this he needs their heads on spikes yesterday, and also because what the fuck do you mean there's no cure, fucking work one out!

long story short: di feisheng spends the next mmmmm several years laying low, maybe kinda faking his death/seclusion a little by implication of dropping off the map after a big duel was meant to happen, while he and the few people he's sure he can trust go right the hell through the Jinyuan alliance trying to find all the people who betrayed him.

and also playing the world's scariest nurse/buddy cop duo to Li xiangyi, who is not yet dead of poison thanks to medicine demon's questionable approach to medical ethics and informed patient consent, is very fucking angry about life, and very fucking determined to find out who murdered his shixiong and made him break the treaty under false pretences.

(and also poisoned him, he guesses).

[quirkle2]

Warriors smiles. It's bright and wide and warm, relieved and watery and wobbly, and he feels like his body has just been recreated. The mourning over losing his only family to portals and fate ebbs from his chest, escapes through the laugh he lets out, incredulous and elated, maybe slightly hysterical, but Legend lets one out that sounds much the same, so he feels a bit more justified in it.

Instantly, the present burn in his chest snuffs out, smoke in his lungs and soot on his bones, and the hello, good morning, I love you, wants to pour out of him like water to a rickety dam.

piece to accompany a wip fic of mine, cinnamon

[vaugarde]

havent seen this take in a while thankfully but it popped up in my head and i wanna post this anyways. i think everyone who talks about how siffrin “got off too easy” at the end of isat and his friends should have abandoned him should go read warrior cats if they want an example of a character using their trauma as their god-given jailbreak card to treat their family and peers (a good amount of whom who were completely innocent) like dogshit, and who faces zero consequences from the narrative for it (and in fact bends over to blame their peers). like read all the shit jayfeather does while the narrative sobs over how tragic but awesome and quirky he is and then look me in the eye and tell me siffrin’s ending was poorly written.

[bijoumikhawal]

honestly RE: censorship has produced some very appealing queer coded relationships, I think part of the problem is that like. Straight relationships often don't compel me, yeah? And part of it is that I frankly, don't believe a fair amount of these characters are in love. The art contains social conventions so you'll assume they're in love. And if you're unaware of it and buy into those conventions, you never notice a problem (unless they're using the conventions that give female characters no depth. People today are somewhat more aware of that). There's a level of laziness to the way so many straight relationships are written.

Many queer censored relationships can't engage those assumptions because straight people don't understand something is gay until it's bedazzled in rainbow rhinestones, and even then some of them have doubts, so (usually) an artist must put effort in to make you think there's something there. There (usually) must be legitimate connection. And because they're censored, they continually cannot rely on anything too lazy to keep interest. They also can't try to deliver payoff that isn't ready (because they're rarely allowed to deliver payoff, if ever). They can't squash the appeal of a relationship by not knowing how to write these characters in a steady relationship to the point where you hate it.

You basically end up getting a (sometimes years long) build of potential and genuine connections, without a satisfying resolution- which sucks, but it also can be very compelling. The inability to say I love you outright means the characters must say it in other ways that tend to be more emotionally impactful- such as holding out a human heart to each other, selfless and hopeless sacrifices, pulling you out of hell, etc. You could argue these moments are an example of "showing not telling" even.

But as we move into more mainstream queer art I feel like some people are starting to use the same conventions I find so lazy and boring in depicting straight relationships. Because it's a Gay Piece of Media you know there will probably be a gay relationship, so you do come in with assumptions that the creators can play off of more efficiently than otherwise. You can miss at establishing the connection. You can rush the payoff. You can write the chase well but fail in writing the domestic. You can tell me these characters are in love without me buying in and believing it because you didn't really give me much to believe in.

[prismatoxic]

i do have to admit that my favorite version of tailchuck is the one where the tail is the only thing different from his canon design. i do enjoy everyone's more animal-like-chucks but i also just love his canon design so much that i will always prefer it to anything else 😔

like this art (twitter link) is what i mean. this is my favorite brand of tailchuck

[thegreatyin]

mr spices and mr wines. also mr candles and mr veils.

have you ever seen that one tumblr post that's like. "i don't ship these characters i just think they belong in couples therapy together". yeah. that's pretty much my stance on most spacebat ships

[oifaaa]

it’s not that serious but i guess my issue with the kinda newish (not really) wave of people who engage or create batfam content without reading the comics is that while, yeah, they may claim “it’s fandom it’s supposed to be fun!” but i think it’s also fair for people who actually read comics to say “it’s kinda bad that the fandom for COMIC BOOK CHARACTERS has become controlled and dominated by people who don’t read comics” like i’m not even really into batman comics, im more of a vertigo person myself, but like the idea of joining a fandom because you like and enjoy the source material, and you want to find a community of people who feel the same, but the fandom is full of people who barely know the story, characters, and arcs but act as though they do. and they do this while spreading misinformation about the source material so widely that the actual source material begins to reflect the fanon version of it…… like that’s just such a wild chain of events and tbh no wonder batman fans who read comics get so mad about it

Yeah like I'm not the type of person who wants to police how people have fun I think that's bullshit but it kinda makes it really difficult for people who do just want to read fics or find character analysis of the actual canon characters when half the people making this content haven't read the comics and are working off at this point ocs with the same names

I think it also creates issues when you're trying to have a conversation with someone about comics and it becomes this almost minefield as you try to figure out if this person has actually read the comic or if all their information is from second hand sources bc it's not unreasonable for people to read the source material and then not remember every detail later on or have their own fanon takes or just their own opinions and having a conversation with someone who hasn't read the original comics but acts like they have makes that conversation a wee bit harder and less fun for everyone involved

[francy-sketches]

If I'd actually posted all my pjo art when I made it instead of hoarding it like a little goblin for no apparent reason today I might have been known as the octavian guy instead of the joffrey guy...scary thought...

[finnpeach]

Memory - Trigun Stampede

guess who's still going on about trigun stampede. anyway we aren't surprised, here's our favourite eulogist wolfwood with a cold and being a big grump to vash (with a touch of angst because if it's a finnpeach fic there will be angst). comments, tags, and feedback always loved and giggled over <3

once again set between episode 4 and 5, but slight spoilers if you haven't seen episode 6 :)

It takes two days for them to get closer to the next outpost after their second encounter with a worm. On the way, they ran into a couple of travelers that needed help, and Vash obviously insisted they stop and assist them. The next day when they set out again, the car broke down and Roberto and Vash had to spend the whole day trying to fix it until it ran again. 

Wolfwood had started feeling a dull ache in his head and a soreness in his throat the night they escaped the first worm. He chalked it up to being dehydrated, but when he woke up the next morning with a throbbing pain in his sinuses and a cough in his chest, he knew he’d caught a cold. 

He hasn’t been sick since his days at the orphanage. Frankly, he doesn’t even know how he got sick, but guesses he picked something up when they were inside the worm, or just simply from over exhausting himself the past few days. Either way, he feels like shit and is starting to lose his capacity for hiding it.

Vash, of course, is the first to notice. They’re sitting in the backseat of the vehicle, watching the next outpost grow closer when the first sneeze of many sneaks up on Wolfwood. He has barely enough time to rip the cigarette out of his mouth before—

“Huh’EGhZTSSHh!” He steeples his hands over his nose and mouth, cigarette pinched between his pointer and middle finger as he pitches forward in the seat. Ugh, that had hurt his throat. Wolfwood slumps back into the seat with a sniffle and rubs at his nose, beginning to feel miserable.

“Are you okay?” There comes that soft, sensitive voice, dripping with genuine concern. Wolfwood fights the urge to roll his eyes. Vash is looking at him with an inquisitive gaze, leaning forward slightly towards him as if to get a better look.

Wolfwood grits his teeth. “I’mb fide,” he mutters, hating that his voice is already thick with congestion. He places the cigarette against his lips and puffs out a cloud of smoke in an irritated huff. Meryl and Roberto are bickering away up front, oblivious to their conversation. 

“You shouldn’t smoke if you have a cold.” 

God, does he ever let up? “I told you I’mb fide, needle-noggid, let it go. It was just a sdneeze.”

He takes another long drag from his cigarette. Unfortunately, he does not prove his point. The smoke catches in his throat and sends him into a coughing fit. 

Suddenly, there’s a hand against his back, patting him through the fit. It’s surprising enough to distract him from the tightness in his throat and make the coughs subside.  

Vash is smiling at him, his hand extended across Wolfwood’s back. Wolfwood slaps at his wrist with a growl and turns back towards the window. He wishes Vash would just leave him alone. 

Hurt, Vash whimpers a little and rubs his wrist. He aches to do something for him, but decides it’s best to leave Wolfwood be for a bit, lest he gets bitten.

They decide to make camp about a half a mile from the outpost. It’s getting late and they don’t want to sneak into the town when there’s likely to be police or headhunters crawling about at night. Meryl and Roberto busy themselves with the sleeping rolls and dinner while Vash and Wolfwood set up the fire. 

The sneezing has only coupled in frequency since they’ve stopped to make camp. He’s had to forgo carrying around his cross just to make sure he doesn’t slip a disc every time a sneeze makes him pitch forward.

“Hh’EGHTSHHhh! Hh’EHGXSTh’huh!” Wolfwood nearly drops the firewood that time, stumbling forward in the sand. Vash is there in an instant and steadies him with a hand to his shoulder. 

Wolfwood shakes his head and tosses the firewood down. “Thagks,” he mumbles, coughing offhandedly into his wrist. His sinuses feel heavy with snot and his throat is killing him. He wishes the sand would swallow him whole right now.

Vash passes him a water flask and Wolfwood hesitates a second as he unscrews the cap. He doesn’t want to get everyone else sick if they share the flask, so he decides to waterfall it instead.

“See? I knew it.” Vash says with an elated grin, noticing Wolfwood’s caution. He looks like a kid who just guessed a riddle correctly. “You are sick. You should—“

“You should mind your own business, blondie. Leave me alone.” Wolfwood thrusts the flask against Vash’s chest and crouches down to arrange the firewood. His head is pounding. He’d like nothing more than to get out of this sun and lay down in a nice bed, or take a bath, or anything rather than be out here in the sweltering desert with a cold that’s growing worse by the minute. He lights a piece of newspaper on fire and sets it amongst the wood, watching as the sparks float up into the sunset sky.

Vash, despite looking like a puppy that’s been kicked, leaves him alone and heads over to Meryl and Roberto. They exchange some words, and then Vash is gone.

Good riddance, Wolfwood thinks. Maybe now he can sneeze in peace without being fussed over. He lights another cigarette and sits down by the fire. The smoke tingles in his sinuses as he inhales and he ends up sneezing again. 

“Huh’EHDSSHhT’chuh! Hih.. hih’EHDZSSH’YUE! Hhh.. he’eh…!” He catches the loud, grating sneezes into his hands, biting the cigarette between his teeth. The last one leaves him hanging, sitting there with his head tilted back, eyebrows twitching in sneezy irritation, the cigarette dangling on his bottom lip. When it still doesn’t come, he decides to try something that used to work when he was younger. He taps the side of his nose and the effect is immediate. 

“H’EHTSssHhh’ue! Heh’EHDTZzSSH’huh!” He doesn’t have enough time to cover and the cigarette shoots out of his mouth with the final spraying sneeze, landing pathetically in the sand. His shades are askew on his nose, which has started to run profusely. To add insult to injury, his sneezes have gathered attention again.

“Jeez, Wolfwood, that sounds bad. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Meryl asks as she unrolls her bed roll a few feet away from the fire. Roberto does the same. He’s not looking at Wolfwood, but he’s clearly listening.

“Will you all just shut up? I’b fide. Drop it.” He pulls his cigarette pack out of his pocket and clicks his tongue against his teeth when he sees that there’s none left. 

He turns to Roberto, who is currently taking a heavy drag off his own cigarette. “Hey, you got another cigarette I can borrow?” 

“Sorry, kid, but Vash told me not to give you one till your cold gets better.” Roberto chuckles as Wolfwood's face twists in pure rage. 

“Where is needle-noggid adyway?” Wolfwood sniffles back his congestion. He despises how hoarse his voice is starting to sound. 

“He didn’t tell you? He went into town to get medicine. Should be back soon,” Meryl says as she passes around cans of stew. It’s their meagre dinner for the evening until they can resupply at the next town.

Wolfwood wants to rip his hair out. He can literally feel the irritation and anger bubbling in him like hot steam in a teapot. How many times does he have to tell him to fuck off? He doesn’t need medicine, and he doesn’t need anyone’s pity. He rejects the proffered can of stew and opts to lay down on his bedroll, wishing sleep would take him and get him away from these people that care too much. 

After about an hour or so of laying there feeling sorry for himself, Vash reappears above him. The sun has nearly completely set, save for a few strokes of pink and red that paint the sky.

Vash looks down at him with a soft, gentle grin. Wolfwood wants to smack the smile off his face. 

“Hey, Wolfwood, I got you some medicine from the town. You should take it so you don’t get worse.” Vash hands him a little packet of pills and the water flask again. 

Wolfwood is beyond fighting at this point. His muscles ache with fatigue, and a sinus headache is starting to creep up on him. He takes two of the pills and downs them with the water before flopping back down on his bedroll again. It’s starting to get cold now that the sun is down, though it could be a fever settling in. Either way, he wraps his arms around himself and scoots closer to the fire as Vash and Meryl and Roberto start chatting. Above, the sky is bright with millions of twinkling stars, and the moon casts her soft luminescent gleams over them. His eyes grow heavy and his breathing starts to deepen. Wolfwood lets the sound of their conversation and the crackle of the fire lull him to sleep. 

He dreams for the first time in a while. He’s a child again and is back at the orphanage. He’s alone, laying in the infirmary with only a thin blanket to stop the shivers that rack his entire body. It’s so cold. 

This is a distant memory to him. Everything seems cloudy, grey, hazy. He can’t make sense of it. Had it happened this way? He’d had a high fever, and was quarantined away from the other children. Only one managed to sneak in to see him.

“Nico?” Comes a small, cautious voice. What was once a dim, grey memory now bursts alight with colour in his presence.

“L-Livio,” he says through chattering teeth. Livio is standing beside the bed, unsure. He’s never wandered somewhere unknown without Wolfwood. How did he get into the infirmary? 

“G-Go away, you’ll get sick.” He coughs into his fist, twisting away from the other boy as much as possible. 

Livio doesn’t answer, just stares at Wolfwood with his big owl eyes and looks him over. Silently, he climbs into bed under the blanket and curls against his friend’s side. His face nuzzles against Wolfwood’s neck as he wraps his smaller body around him. 

Warmth spreads through his body as if he’s being caressed by the summer sun. The shivers slowly start to subside, no match against the warmth, as he relaxes against Livio. 

Yes, this is exactly how it happened. 

Except, his grey hair is starting to tickle his nose, and the sensation is so real that it wakes him up. 

Wolfwood awakes with a start. “Livio?” Where is he?

He takes a moment to gather his bearings. He’s not at the orphanage, he’s camped out under the stars with two journalists and an outlaw. Right. 

The burning itch in his nose is back. Something feathery and blonde is tickling his nostrils, and he looks down to see someone nestled against his shoulder, their body curled around his. Its owner is snoring softly beneath him. 

Vash?!

“H’EGhNXT’shh!” Wolfwood sneezes as the tickle becomes too strong, twisting his head to the side so he doesn’t sneeze all over Vash. Anger sparks in his chest like a fuse.

Wolfwood shoves the sleeping Vash off of him and scrambles away. The cold is eager to reclaim him and seeps into his body in an instant.  

“Vash! What the fuck?!” He hisses, like water pouring over coals.

Vash gives a little start and shakes his head. “Huh…?” He gazes up at Wolfwood with sleepy, confused eyes. He seems surprised to suddenly find himself laying on the ground. 

“Why were you sleeping on me?!” There’s a heavy weight across his body. Wolfwood looks down to see Vash’s red coat lying across him, keeping out the cold desert air. 

Vash yawns and rubs his eyes. “You were shivering, so I came over to keep you warm. And you were talking in your sleep for a while. Who’s Livio?” 

Wolfwood feels panic rise within him at hearing someone speak Livio’s name. He grabs the red coat and tosses it at Vash’s face, who doesn’t catch it in time and ends up wrestling the coat off his head, falling onto his back.

“No one. Go back to sleep,” he growls, turning onto his side so his back is facing Vash. He wants to forget this ever happened. He wants to go back to that dream. And now that he’s awake, he’s rudely reminded of how sick he feels.

He shivers involuntarily when a sharp breeze howls against his back, the sensation chilling him to the bone. Wolfwood sniffles and tries to ignore the fact that he needs to sneeze again. He pinches his nose, rubs it angrily against his sleeve, but it’s no good. 

“Hih’EDTZSSHhh’uh!” He tents his hands over his nose again to catch the wet sneeze. He sniffles thickly and coughs, his eyes brimming with irritated tears. Suddenly, there’s a heavy weight placed down gently across him. Wolfwood opens his eyes to see Vash tucking his red coat around the curve of his body.

“I told you I dod’t need—“

“Just sleep with it tonight, okay? You do need it.” His tone is firm, commanding. It’s so different from his typical soft, kind voice. It leaves no room for argument. Vash tucks in one final corner around his hips before laying back down again. 

Wolfwood relents and decides that being warm under Vash’s coat beats shivering all night long. He tucks his chin under the coat and closes his tired eyes, feeling himself dragged into sleep like a helpless rowboat at sea. As his mind starts to teeter between reality and sleep, he lets his dreams wander back to Livio again, and returns to the peaceful embrace of memory.

[hood-ex]

Willing AO3 to understand my specific methods of tagging to give me the very specific type of fic I'm looking for. Like no, AO3, Kid Dick does not mean that I want a story where Bruce is Dick's parent. It means I want a crazy role reversal where Jason or Damian acts like Dick's parent, or I want Cass to be Dick's older sister, y'know? Kill Bruce and Alfred off and then have Cass contemplate running away with Dick because she's only 16 and can't get custody of Dick yet, but then have Clark or whoever step in and petition the court for custody of both Cass and Dick.

Like sheesh. Pick up what I'm putting down, would ya?

[theywontletmebeprincipal]

gonna be so honest marcille’s Thing About Death is infinitely more interesting to me than her dynamic with falin

[atopvisenyashill]

IF YOURE SANSA MANDERLY STARK

And you realize, after your uncle Edric dies, that your husband Jonnel is going to name not Edric’s son Cregard his new heir, but his other brother Barthogan as his heir. He is doing this specifically because “Cregan died after Rickon, so since Rickon wasn’t a Lord, it passes to Cregan’s next born son. Since Edric wasn’t a lord, it passes to Barthogan.” You are very mad because you and your sister Serena have been raising Cregard to rule and now you’re worried about her daughters, and her sons, and what becomes of you if Jonnel also dies, and you’re still mad you were passed over, so you decide “yeah fuck it i’m not just going to set myself up well, i’m going to make sure i have the ability to take the lordship, make myself ruling lady, and make things easier for a woman to inherit because now i’m pissed off”

What do you like. Do. Marrying all of Serena’s kids well is important but what would “marry well” mean. Someone rich and southron who comes with money & a household that is loyal to the two of you? Someone Northern, who will back your claim because they have a vested interest in you ruling? A mix of both?

You have to get the King on your side right. Have an in with him so if someone complains he’s like “well a daughter before an uncle blah blah blah.” You want LYANNA and HER husband on your side, and you want all of ALY BLACKWOOD’S daughters and THEIR HUSBANDS on your side because if your ultimate goal is ABSOLUTE PRIMOGENITURE you want the older sisters on your side right. You want the people of Winters Town to like you more than Barthogan and Jonnel. You want to do good things for them, so you want money (again - good marriages for Serena’s children). You want to be more competent or at least seem more competent. You probably want like….what Barthogan and Brandon like Not In Winterfell with you…….