#seriously most of these are probably bad

[kinomiya]

The big list of Yuriy/Takao fanfics I was able to find and that I absolutely cannot guarantee the quality of:

bolded titles denote completion | italic titles denote spicy content | red titles denote content warning**

**red titles only appear on actual blog post and not on dashboard

AO3 Fics:

  Peregrination: English, YuTaka

  Prevaricate: English, YuTaka

  Everyone love Neoborg: English, YuTaka (Ch.2 only)

  Locker Room Talk: English, YuTaka, KaiTaka

  The Amity League Games: English, YuTaka, onesided ReiTaka

  Reclaim: The Story Continues: English, YuTaka, KaiTaka

Fanfiction.net Fics:

  With Mr. Right: English, Slight YuTaka, mostly KaiTaka 

  Deceitful Masquerade: English, YuTaka, MaxTaka, KaiTaka 

  Balanced Elements: English, Slight YuTaka, mostly KaiTaka

  Blue Rose: English, YuTaka, KaiTaka, BrookTaka

  Why Me?: English, Slight YuTaka, mostly KaiTaka

  Message in a bottle: English, YuTaka

  The Highwayman: English, Onesided YuTaka, KaiTaka

  An Auction: English, Onesided YuTaka, KaiTaka

  Tyson’s Weird New Life: English, YuTaka, KaiTaka

  The Play: English, YuTaka, KaiTaka

  When we were 13: English, Slight YuTaka, mostly KaiTaka

  Deserved: English, YuTaka, KaiTaka

  Unconditional: English, YuTaka, onesided KaiTaka

  The Gifted: English, YuTaka, KaiTaka

  Savior: English, YuTaka, KaiTaka

  Blind Cat: English, YuTaka, onesided KaiTaka

  With this Knife: English, YuTaka, onesided KaiTaka

  Canción de Cuna: Spanish, YuTaka, KaiTakao

  A Big Gift from a Small Holiday: English, YuTaka

  GOD HATES RUSSIANS!: English, YuTaka

  Secret’s That are Meant to Stay Quiet: English, YuTaka, side pairing.

  Wind, Eis und Feuer: German, YuTaka, KaiTakao

  A Birthday Surprise: English, YuKaiTaka

  Tu recuerdo: Spanish, YuTaka

  Ecuación de Amor: Spanish, YuTaka

  Vestidores: Spanish, YuTakaMyst

  Poinsettia: English, YuKaiTaka

  Die Melodien in unseren Herzen: German, YuTakaMax

  ZAFIRO: Spanish, YuTaka 

  Helloween: German, YuTaka

  Someone to Breathe For: English, YuTaka, YuKai

  The puzzle called love: English, YuTaka, MaxTaka

  Three’s a Crowd: English, YuKaiTaka

  Tala’s Game: English, YuTaka

  Quest for Love: English, YuTaka, KaiTaka

  A Cat, a Dog, and a Boy Names Tyson!: English, YuKaiTaka

  High School: English, Slight YuTaka, mostly KaiTaka

[local-lamppost]

Code Lyoko is one of those shows where you step away for a bit, it comes back to you, and you think “it wasn’t actually that intense. I’m just misremembering, how I felt when I last saw it as a kid that’s all.” 

Then you watch it.

And no, no actually, I remembered correctly. They almost drove into a nuclear power plant, a military laser as pointed at them, they team up with the big bad to rob the government, the man characters have a near death experience every day, it’s very much implied that deaths on Lyoko is very similar to the real thing, literal men in black came after Aelita’s family, William lost months of his life, Jeremy was torturing himself to keep his friends safe on the other side of the screen, Odd almost drowned, Yumi and Ulrich were nearly boiled alive.

Also, you remember how hard the intro goes.

[tealty]

Posting it on its own as well cuz there’s something about Danny being naturally quite creepy in ghost form, just left of human shaped and unhinged about it too

Inspired by this thought by Paenling

[killianglyndon]

@gameofthronesdaily​ event 01: favorite character(s)

↳ RHAENYRA TARGARYEN

ins / po

[ask2ps]

Redraw of some old 2p!Chibitalia concepts.

Notes:

The Romano doll was hand-made by Italy. He detests his older brother, so even in the modern era, the doll remains a comfort— an "ideal" Romano. It's seen better days, despite Italy's attempts to keep it in good condition...

Italy has somewhat poor vision due to being blindfolded as a child. His hearing is impeccable, however. This helps with stealth and assassination missions quite a bit.

Italy's habit of petty theft and vandalism stems from the doll's "encouragement." Whether the doll is haunted by Chibitalia's negative emotions or if it's just the overactive imagination of a troubled child is a mystery.

[kang-yina]

I have a enemies to lovers-lovers to enemies toxic yuri story with mattel i guess

[eldritch-araneae]

Bumblebee Week Day 4 - Secret

I've been here waiting for the longest time I can't believe it's real You lose the battles that you never fight Can't hide from what you feel (Come on!) No more compromise This is do or die And now you've crossed the line You'll wake the beast inside No more compromise This is do or die I'll warn you one last time You'll wake the beast inside!

Song: Sonic Frontiers OST - Break Through It All

[tired-and-unjellied]

trying out reddit more expansively than before, and... eh.

r/milgram is bad

the chat is bad

I don't know why there are three interfaces, and they are all bad in their own ways

[crystalkitty1220]

Man I wonder where the leader of the fear realm could've gone, it's alMOST LIKE NEVIN HAS AN

[givemewallywestorgivemedeath]

In the best version of reality we would get a Flash storyline wherein the Justice League, the Titans, Young Justice and every other superhero is mind controlled except for the speedsters. With the entire might of DC greatest hunting them down the speedsters have a dumb idea. A very very dumb idea.

See, speedsters are able to control what age they are and, while only Bart and Jay have ever seriously messed around with that ability, they need a wildcard move that won't be predictable.

What would a bunch of mind controlled superheroes not expect? What would immediately mark them as not a threat and allow them to sneak around in plain sight?

They disguise themselves as middle schoolers.

Jay and Barry get lucky. No one knew them as children and they aren't really recognizable as children so they get away with being 12.

Wally, Bart and Ace not so much. Half of the superhero community knew these three as children so they are forced to go even younger to be unrecognizable. All three settle on 6 because they refuse to compromise their ability to run.

The plan is to sneak into a class trip touring the Hall of Justice and then sneak away from the group to 'go to the bathroom'. The bathrooms are right above the Halls boiler room so then all they would have to do is vibrate through the floor and bam! They're through security undetected and have access to Hall.

What they don't take into consideration is that A) while Wally, Bart and Ace are used to being on high stakes missions as a child, Jay and Barry are not, Barry's on the verge of an anxiety attack and Jay CAN'T LIE B) as children none of them had the same control over their speed or their focus, which becomes very apparent when all five of them get so wrapped up in a pokemon battle that they don't notice Wonder Woman taking over the tour and, most importantly, C) Wally couldn't vibrate through objects without blowing them up until he was an adult.

They relearn that last one the hard way when the bathroom floor explodes and the Hall immediately goes into lock down.

[elendsessor]

i keep seeing so much smt5 stuff on my dash so i think it’s a good time to express how i really really hope aogami isn’t done dirty in vengeance

ik not all stories need a happy ending and smt knows that well but there’s a right way to do it and god given how the protagonist and aogami’s relationship actually was during the game it made true neutral so much worse

so it’s ok for all the other human characters to die or continue existing with their demon soulmate but not the protag-

seriously though it’s harming the themes of 5 when tne already has a bunch of thematic flaws

there’s so much of the game that convinces you not to go through with tne which is fine!! it makes sense why the game would punish you emotionally for it. but having the ending bias most mainline games have (aka make it super obvious what ending they want you to go with by not putting as much or straight up no effort into the other endings) it makes it obvious this was the ending being pushed when it shouldn’t have been. that’s why it pisses me off so much—you either shoot for tne or get a half baked ending monologue. it’s extra sad since aogami’s goodbye leaves you feeling like shit but considering apparently this is the ending that matters, you’re ultimately forced to go with it so it doesn’t have the right impact.

i will defend 5 on a gameplay standpoint and a thematic standpoint but atlus i’m begging you just because da’at’s technically a post apocalyptic setting and tokyo is in the matrix does not mean everyone is fair game to just kill or write off and i am desperate for the other endings to put in real effort so tne feels more like an actual proper ending for the one guy who wants to do the equivalent of undertale’s genocide route.

[dancedance-resolution]

i started a supercorp portrait of a lady on fire au like three years ago. i'm never going to finish it, but the writing style is pretty cool, so i want to share it. so um enjoy the prologue and a bit of chapter one?

---

Prologue. Bonnelles, France. 1786.

“First, my contours,” Kara said, her voice soft and level. She looked out upon the dozen or so young women, their eyes darting back and forth from their papers to Kara herself. “The outline,” she continued. The increasingly swift sound of scratching charcoal prompted Kara to further instruct, “Not too fast. Take time to look at me.” She paused. “See how my arms are placed.”

At that moment, Kara saw the painting.

She swallowed and took in a breath; she schooled her expression before letting out the air with a pathetically soft “My hands.” Her students’ gaze followed her verbal direction, now observing as Kara’s fingers curled with remembrance. Their own hands now began to sketch the slope of hers—the slope that had once coaxed breathy moans from a lover, the slope that had once created that very painting in all of its hollow longing.

Kara felt her heart rate accelerating, and her attempts at calming deep breaths only made her shoulders shake unsteadily. “Who brought that painting out?” Her eyes darted around, landing on each possible offender, as she tensed her core and adopted a stern countenance.

Every student dutifully turned to look at the work.

It was an especially young girl who finally lifted her hand. “I brought it. From the stock room. Should I have not?”

Kara’s “no” felt like a brick, its weight threatening to pry tears from her reddening eyes. So Kara took another swallow, a handful of blinks, a few more steadying breaths.

“Did you paint it?” the girl asked innocently. Nia, her name was? She stared at Kara, oblivious to the flood of sound overwhelming Kara’s mind and echoing in the cavern of her heart.

“Yes,” Kara uttered softly, the word barely audible as they fell from her lips. “A long time ago.”

Nia’s head snapped back to examine the painting once more. It stood on an old but sturdy easel, tattooed and scarred but still standing. The artwork itself was brooding, with a white sun bleeding into a dark vignette. Heavy clumps of clouds occupied the sky and caged some of the sun’s rays, so the fire burning behind the woman was bright enough in comparison to create a dragging shadow of her figure. The flames crawled up the back of her windswept dress, bringing sharp tension to an otherwise lulling, melancholy landscape.

“What’s the title?”

The sound of the sea began to swell in Kara’s head. Her lips trembled. Her body unwittingly swayed slightly. “Portrait of a Lady on Fire.”

---

Chapter I. The island of Brittany, France, and the surrounding sea. 1779.

Kara squinted into the distance, her face scrunching up a bit as she desperately tried to shield her eyes from the harsh glare of the sun on the water. For all its gorgeous teals and sparkling peaks, it certainly did make her wish for one of those brimmed hats the rowers were all wearing. With every one of their paced paddles, the cork-like little canoe bobbed haphazardly. Kara rather felt as if she were in the wine glass of a thoroughly drunken Marie Antoinette.

At least she wasn’t prone to seasickness.

She still felt quite unsteady, though, being thrown about and forced to pathetically grab onto the boat’s low walls. She leaned forward, trying to regain her balance and ground herself despite the absence of ground.

The wooden pallet holding her canvas was, apparently, as unstable as she was, and the next thing Kara knew, it had been lurched off of the boat like vomit from a drunkard. Kara watched helplessly as it thrashed among the choppy waves, the sea carrying it a few feet from the boat.

The chief rower met her desperate look with exhausted resignation; he ceased his paddling as Kara shed her overcoat and placed a precarious foot on the edge of the canoe.

With a strained creak from the boat’s wood, she jumped into the water, dress billowing behind her. Her first gasp for air upon emerging from the water was audible; she could feel the effort in her throat. Her arms moved in laborious little arcs as she slowly made her way towards the floating pallet and finally made a desperate reach for it. Kara’s fingers grasped onto a wooden board, and she pulled herself up onto it with a grunt.

---

The incessant wind upon the sea was certainly not helping Kara. Dripping wet, she wrapped herself up in her overcoat in a pitiful plea for warmth. She held the edges of the garment up to her lips, the sensation of the dry fabric bringing her some comfort as she closed her eyes and left herself to the mercy of the mighty sea.

But the interminable rocking of the feeble boat wouldn’t allow her any rest.

Kara wasn’t very religious, not anymore. Yet, the sight of the cliffs and coast of Brittany moved her to relieved prayer.

---

The sun had already begun to set as Kara trekked up the sandy coast. Her legs ached with every stumbling, unsure step—maybe she was a bit seasick after all—and her hands were tired of having to grip her full skirt to keep it out of her way.

She paused on the rocks, taking a moment to manually wring some of the water out of her skirt. She filled her lungs with an arduous breath before slinging the rope holding the pallet over her shoulder. Next came the fabric sling, which housed her trunk of personal items—she positioned it on her back with careful poise.

The journey up the cliffs and towards the trees was exhausting. Kara’s skirt required repositioning every few seconds, the rope was digging into her shoulder, and the pallet and trunk slammed into her back with each wobbling step. By the time she reached the straight path up to the residence, her breaths were heavy and pained, and the sun was nearly fully hidden beneath the horizon.

A soft light emanated from the windows above the mansion’s door, helping Kara feel a bit more secure as she knocked. A short blonde woman answered her summon and introduced herself with a flat “I’m Eve.” She opened the door a bit wider and gestured with her body for Kara to come in.

Eve held a small candle as she guided Kara up the stairs, the sounds of their shoes echoing through the grand yet starkly undecorated hallway. The walls of the stairwell were cement bricks, and the wrought iron bannister was rather plain and geometric.

They came to a stop in front of a similarly void room, bare save a few heavy curtains and a daybed. The raised panels along these walls matched the white-painted wood of the window frames, and they gave the chamber some elegant character.

While Eve entered the comparatively less intimidating room, Kara stayed back a moment, taking in the shafts of muted blue light from the windows and the contrasting warm glow of leaping flames from the central fireplace.

Eve crouched down to poke at the fire as Kara set down her belongings. “It was a reception room,” Eve explained. “Though I’ve never seen it used.”

The fire crackled pleasantly. “Have you been here long?” Kara inquired.

“Three years,” Eve answered, directing her attention back to the fire.

Kara peeled off her overcoat and draped it along the wainscoting. “Do you like it here?”

“Yes,” Eve said simply as she stood up. She turned to Kara, meeting her eyes now as her hands smoothed over her skirt. “I’ll let you get dry.” And with a nod, she was on her way.

Kara watched her every step.

Once the door closed, she hastily began removing her overskirt. It fell to the dark herringbone floor with an unglamorous thud.

---

There was no method or grace to the way Kara wrapped her hand around the rusting crowbar, but with a few jerks, she’d managed to successfully pry the top off of the pallet.

After setting down the wood cover, Kara extended her hand, letting it fall clumsily onto the slick canvas in front of her. It was still wet, and her hand’s small circular movement caused moisture to pool at her fingertips, as if her touch had beckoned the water. So her hand withdrew, and Kara slid the canvas out from its container. Her eyes danced over the surface as she considered how to dry it, holding it in front of herself like the Communion host of an evening Mass.

---

Kara decided to accompany her drying canvas, which was now positioned next to the fireplace. Stripped naked, she sat in front of the fire and pulled her legs towards herself—she was vulnerable, sitting there bare and in a new environment, and the action made her feel a bit more small, compact, and safe.

Kara set down her candle so she could light her tobacco pipe with the flames. Her large, smoky exhales grounded her, in a way, with the familiar sight and smell acting as a sort of sedative. And she stared forward, expression blank but unmistakably worn.

---

Kara walked barefoot along the cement floor, making her way through the hall and to the pantry room wrapped in nothing but her robe-like smock.

[lord-squiggletits]

Between TF and my other fandoms like BG3 and TES, I keep finding myself making OCs that have some element of "battle hardened hero who is actually good and righteous, but so traumatized by the toll of war that even after the war ends they feel empty/wrecked and can't enjoy the fruits of victory" and I'm not sure if it's bc I gravitate to a certain type of media where such OCs fit in best, or bc I have a specific character archetype I like and gravitate towards media that contains those things.

[stevethehairington]

god you know it's fuckin HOT when you've cursed out at least 10 different inanimate objects in one day

[simcardiac-arrested]

OHHHHH MY GOD COMING OFF ANON BECAUSE !??!?!? SCPSL MENTIOn!!?!??!? you are the ONLY person i've EVER seen that mentioned that game in being similar to lethal company ohhhh my god oh my god i used to be so crazy autism over that game Okay. okay. oh my godddd I LOVE(D) SCPSL SO MUCH and it makes me so so so happy to see a game like it get so popular!!! i love lethal company!!! and i love the creatures and the randomly generated facilities and the PROXIMITY chat and the lore (sigurd adn desmond<3) and i love that ALL MY FRIENDS CAN AND DO PLAY ITTT ^__^ its like 14 year old me got blessed by the autism fairy joy and beauty to the world

i don’t know how to say this in a way that wont make me sound like i shouldnt be allowed in public spaces so i’ll just go ahead and say it. I have 200 hours in scpsl

[0809sysblings]

it is always a little funny to me when people try to make psychologists and psychiatrists out to be the only people ever capable of being able to accurately diagnose mental illnesses and disorders and that their word is law as a way to criticize self diagnosis when like. once i was hospitalized and the psychiatrist there who i had not even known for more than a day tried to diagnose me as bipolar despite me having No history of mania because he.. couldn't really understand why i acted the way i did i guess???