#should I write a fic abt them

[goofalicousgooberface]

Thinking about Farleigh and Oliver. About how Farleigh was the only one who could see through most of Oliver’s tricks because he’s the same kind of animal. They’re both the people pleasers of Saltburn. They’re the only ones who have to put on a show to be allowed to stay. But Oliver doesn’t confide in him for that. Because at his core I think he’s scared of genuine human connection. I think he’s afraid that if he acts like himself, people will leave. He’s always putting on an act, he’s been doing it for as long as he can remember. Because he never wants to disappoint. Maybe if Farleigh woke up while Oliver was making that text, they could’ve had a moment that was real. Farleigh waking to the blueish illumination of a phone screen, asking ‘what are you doing’. Oliver doesn’t have an answer. But Farleigh keeps pressing, until he gets one (or rather assumes one). It’s instant, his reaction. A barrage of ‘what the fuck is wrong with you’ and ‘why do they make Olivers so psychotic in that fucking factory’. But everyone is sleeping, and he has to keep his words hushed to keep it that way. Oliver’s only reply is ‘I don’t know’. It’s frustrating, but eventually Farleigh just turns over and tries to sleep with his phone clutched tightly. It’s too late for this bullshit. Oliver just stares with his eyes wide. Farleigh cracks one of his own open, asking (less angrily after he’s had a chance to cool down) ‘why’. And again, Oliver doesn’t have an answer to give. He’s just ‘I needed to’. And then something something Oliver tells Farleigh about his lack of identity in a moment of sleep deprived weakness and Farleigh sees himself in Oliver’s story yada yada and then they cuddle

A wee bit gay I believe (just one chance 4 either of them JUST ONE CHANCE PLEASE.)

[birchlogz]

[moralcandy]

fifteen things that don't come back, by charlie slimecicle:

number one. the paper airplane you and your daughter throw at your husband while his back is turned in the kitchen, the two of you hiding behind the counter as you snicker quietly when he stops humming and yelps a curse as he turns around with a faux angry expression and a poorly-hidden smile.

number two. the glass your daughter broke trying to grab it from the cabinet on her tippy-toes. you didn't look over until you heard the glass shatter against the kitchen floor, too preoccupied with grabbing the jug of cold orange juice from the fridge to notice until it was too late. golden, afternoon sunlight shone warmly on the both of you from the open window as you swept it up while she stood to the side with a sheepish expression.

number three. your husband's soft shirt he let you borrow when you said you couldn't find your own but really you just quickly shoved yours under the bed when he wasn't looking. you absently noted that it smelled like him. your lips curved into a slight smile without input. your foot shoved your shirt under the bed a little bit farther.

number four. the pictures you took of your daughter and niece, hugging eachother as they posed for the camera, the photo incinerated into ash when you blew up your house. you frantically dug through your daughter's chest afterwards, soot covering your hands as you searched for the photograph. you did not find it.

number five. your niece.

number six. the feeling of a cold glass of wine held tipsily in your hand, the waterdrop of condensation slipping down the glass at the same pace your tears did down your cheeks. you downed the alcohol until there was nothing left except a burning feeling and a lump in your throat. the bartender did not give you another drink.

number seven. your friend, the one who used to laugh hysterically with you as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders before he began to scream at you while he wrapped his hands around your neck. he pushed you into the dirt, the metallic taste of blood in your mouth and the feeling of wet dirt on your skin as you absently question whether the water dripping on your face was the rain or the tears slipping down your friend's face. you know that was the funeral of your children, but you think both of the real 'you's died that day, too.

number eight. the warm, rumbling feeling of laughter in your chest as a smile hurts your cheeks, the sensation long gone. your mouth, for a moment, twitches into a small smile at the memory of the feeling.

number nine. the feeling of hands on your own, your husband's warm hands intertwined with yours as your cold, golden rings clink against eachother. your daughter's tiny hand clasped around yours as she leads you to a butterfly she found, grass brushing your ankles as you walk.

ten. the sound of your daughter's amused laughter, snorts interrupting occasionally. her head leans back as she giggles, her eyes scrunched up in happiness.

eleven. the sound of your husband's soothing voice, lilting with fondness as he looks at you. a smile absently crosses his face as he speaks, audible in his voice. you always remember smiling back.

twelve. your golden wedding band your husband lovingly slipped onto your ring finger so long ago, the one you furiously tossed into a dusty corner with particularily bad aim. you blame the poor aim on the tears blurring your vision, but it could've been the alcohol, really.

thirteen. your husband. you try to go to sleep in the center of your bed now, knowing that he won't be there. when you wake up, you always find yourself on the left side of the bed, as if you've moved in your sleep to accommodate someone. you scowl and think that your asleep self should stop being so stupid. ..you make the bed just in case he really does decide to come back.

fourteen. your daughter. whenever you make yourself breakfast now, you keep accidentally making two bowls, the muscle memory automatic, familiar, and no longer needed. you sit down at the table and set the bowls and begin to eat, but you always end up just stirring the cereal with your spoon as you stare at the untouched bowl across from you. you always end up throwing them both away. without your input, a frown tugs slightly at your lips as your pour out the second bowl but you know that nobody else was even here to eat it anyway. your eyes burn.

fifteen. your daughter, the one you know isn't the real one. sometimes you walk down those train tracks where you found her, hoping she'll be here this time. she never is. ..you still keep checking, just in case.

[reddamselette]

photographer jason grace who has a habit of taking pictures of leo whenever he doesn’t expect it. leo has never seen the photos, jason pretends to have deleted them but in reality, he’s developed the photos and he has them tucked away into an album among many. he’s been taking photos of leo since he was able to handle a camera.

jason thinks that of everything he's captured, of every sunset and sunrise, every field and every snowstorm, every strike of lightning and glass covered in rain, each scene with his friends hanging out; leo valdez is the best muse anyone could ever ask for

[dukeofthomas]

"Angry robin" "violent robin" "misbehaving robin" shut up and accept my alternative; spunky Robin. Determined and head strong, can out-stubborn the Batman, has a strong moral-backbone and does what he thinks is right regardless of what anybody else says, Robin. Jason who was sassy and quippy and made crude jokes with a smile on his face. Jason who hid in Bruce's cape and whispered gossip to him. Jason who, if Bruce refused him something, could keep bothering endlessly until Bruce caved. And also dramatic Jason. If Bruce tells him no, it becomes a whole theatrical show; a monologue, a narration, embellishments, and falling onto the floor in his grief upon the fact his cruel father has denied him once again.

(Jason who has suffered through abuse and homelessness and poverty and starvation, who is the Fight out of Fight or Flight, who's built up defenses and walls and when pushed and triggered responds with the thing that's always protected him; anger. He's sweet and kind and funny, and when he sees a pimp hitting a prostitute he gets furious and responds with violence.)

[evelynpr]

Looking back at it, Kacchako is really funny to look back on given everything that's happened. Like I really wished they had more interactions about their motivations and heroism, and even their blunt demeanor and so many more things (also how they feel about Deku but this isn't about him).

This isn't meant to shit on people who ship it in any way, because back then I kinda digged it. Like genuinely thought it was cool and an interesting direction to take...but that was 5 years ago.

At one point, we saw the two of them on a battlefield, ending with Ochako losing but Bakugo having a lot of respect for her. This really could have been expanded a lot more, like them training together or just talking.

How he started calling her by her actual name much earlier than others, how she saw right through his "anger" at Deku being fear, how Ochako also trained to be stronger- there really was potential for something deeper between them beyond acquaintances, romance, or something.

[ackee]

i say its really easy to talk about my ocs because idgaf bout what anyone thinks, i need to post silly things abt them. but i totally forgot sometimes i Do get shy drawing ocs, usually kamdeuce.. like oh no theyre kissing again... everyones gonna beat me to death with hammers!

[tsukasalover]

I mightve complained about this somewheree else before ? but i was originally planning on writing a one shot where rui and tsukasa cuddle during a sleepover ?? something like that because theyre both still awake but eventually tossed that over to the ideas for art/doodles pile because I cannot imagine it happening at all.

Like of course i can handle ships and all that romantic stuff with my favorite characters it can be really cute but i Hate writing anything with a romantic context so much. Especially when it comes to ruikasa simply due to the fact that i dont like most ways theyre portrayed in romantic relationships and my brain goes No.. No. Needs more funny oddball moments in this. Don’t dip into that corny stuff or you’ll look like one of Those ruikasa fans that doesn’t get them. Even if its not that bad. with aus like set in Entirely different worlds i can be a bit more free but if its based off of them in the canon universe (sorta) i get reaaally picky. i can let go of other people messing up sometimes because we’re just humans but if i got anyone in wxs really wrong id pack my bags. idm any criticism as long as people arent acting vicious and obnoxious but if i try and correct my own mistakes.. 🤕

is part of this also because romance almost never crosses my mind during my free time? absolutely. (exceptions are when my friends need someone to open up to while in relationships. i dont know how good my advice is but supposedly its helped) I could care less if it stays that way. Friendship is a powerful thing. this is always good when it comes to wxs though because its like Hell yes I dont have to overthink about what theyd be like in romantic relationships (i overthink about everything else with them though) and I Love Friendship Lalala Buuut if i ever get ideas for fics that are romantic and just want to have fun for once it gets scary real fast.

[caninecowboy]

im gonna say a hot take: rpf is fine and wonderful as long as you respect the boundaries* of the people you're writing about 👍

*boundaries in terms of seeing the content

[amphibifish]

i remember when i used to hate ships for being toxic.... lawl.....

[gemharvest]

My followers, decide for me yet again. You have like 5-10 minutes to vote before I go with whatever is winning.

[collegeoflore]

the thing driving me most insane about xarrai/gale these days is that like. gale turns them down/gets turned down (it’s messy. lol) so xarrai can be with astarion instead and then almost immediately he has to watch them tear each other apart. you KNOW the whole time he’s bitter because he’s thinking that he would have been better for xarrai but the two of them Never would have actually worked for the exact same reasons that they Do work with astarion. but gale doesn’t know or think about that bc he’s too busy watching them hiss and growl at each other like feral cats and assuming the reason early act 3!xarrai is testy and a little withdrawn is bc they’re fighting with astarion (incorrect assumption) (well not entirely incorrect) (not a helpful assumption to make for anyone involved tho)

[dukeofthomas]

I need people to realize how horrible 'stalking/constant surveillance/breaking into each other's homes is how the Batfamily show love' is. Like i really need someone to just acknowledge how horrific saying this bullshit is.

Like even fics where they're shown as happy and healthy and with good ties, you've always got this thing where none of them have privacy or any boundaries with each other. Which is directly antithetical to actually having good relationships. And this invasion via hacking and stalking and breaking into homes is portrayed as a positive, good thing; it's just how they show love and care to each other, after all. But for some reason I just personally don't find stalking, lack of privacy or boundaries, and emotional manipulation funny, endearing, or healthy, and just end up disgusted at the attempt to sweep it all under the rug.

[lionmythflower]

Evan scoffs. "'Does he know?' he asks. Yes him and the whole fucking school knows."

Regulus' eyes go wide and he opens his mouth to respond but is cut off by Evan continuing his rambling.

"No, he doesn't fucking know are you crazy? I didn't even know for merlin's sake! And gods help you if they find out, because it's not gonna be me helping. Even Pandora didn't think twice about it until the quidditch match last fall! Jesus Christ, you are an IDIOT. An absolute fucking idiot. I hope you know that. Him. HIM, OF ALL PEOPLE. Salazar, Rowena, Helga and Godric are rolling in their graves laughing at you. I guarantee this is not what McGonagall meant when she said we need more 'House Unity' goddamn. And gosh let's not even mention-" Evan continues ranting.

Regulus' head was spinning. 6 years of knowing Evan Rosier and he still hasnt gotten used to his rambling. At least not these kind of ramblings. He could deal with ones about school, or Evan's lastest hyper fixation, or the random things that Evan would think of and just go with. Those he could deal with. Evan's angry rambles made his mind work overtime. He somehow managed to talk even faster when he was angry.

At least with Regulus. With anyone else he didn't let himself get too angry. Regulus didn't care how much Evan rambled though. He knows that he doesn't mean it. In reality Evan is just trying to work it all out in his mind, trying to connect the dots and fit the pieces together. Regulus is fine with it. In fact he encourages it. With anyone else Evan either stops himself mid rambled or gets interrupted. With Regulus, Evan doesn't stop himself, and Regulus doesn't interrupt. When he does stop, he looks over to Regulus and Regulus gives some input.

Talking isn't one of the things regulus is best at. He either doesn't think before he speaks or things too long about what he's going to say and then it's too late. With Evan that's not a problem. Regulus can blurt out the most nonsensical thing that comes to mind without having to think about whether Evan will find it weird. Regulus can take as long as he needs to think about the answer to something without worrying that Evan will get annoyed with having to wait.

Regulus looks up and realizes that Evan has stopped talking. "You done yelling at me now?" Regulus says with a slight smile.

Evan sighs and lays down so that his head is in Regulus' lap and he's starring up at Regulus.

"yeah," he mumbles. This is normal how most of his rambles end; with Evan finally having run out of things to say and going silent.

Evan looks like he's about to say something and then hesitates.

"What?" Regulus asks.

Evan starts tapping his finger tips on his stomach nervously.

"Was that too much? Sorry I didn't mind to react badly I'm not mad at you and your not an idiot, I'm just trying to process this for a minute and I didn't know what to say, sorry." And this is normally how Evan's 'angry' rants end. No matter how many times Regulus tells him that it's fine.

Regulus smiles and reaches over to put his hand over the one anxiously tapping on Evan's stomach. "It's not too much, your fine," Regulus promises.

Evan nods slowly. "Okay." He whispers.

Regulus nods too. "Okay."

Evan sits up and fidgets a bit before asking, "Can I hug you?"

Regulus almost laughs. Instead he just smiled again and hugs Evan gently. The other boy takes a few seconds before relaxing into the hug and hugging back.

Evan has never been one for physical affection. His parents never gave him any and he grew to not be a physical person. Which also led to him being severely touch starved. He hadn't even realized it until a few of this very very close friends expressed physical affection towards him. And he realized he was ok with it as long as it was someone he completely trusted. That didn't mean he wasn't still hesitant and slightly tense about it.

Regulus hadn't ever got any form of affection from his parents either. But he was fine with physical affection. Holding Pandora's hand, hugging Dorcas, resting his head on Peter's shoulder, leaning against Remus, coming up behind Barty and burrowing into his side, cuddling with Lily, being held against Emmeline, playing with Mary's curls when he got bored and more. He was able to tell that Evan didn't like physical affection too much. He was fine with that and respected it. The first time Regulus hugged Evan, he was having a panic attack, and Regulus panicked and had hugged Evan. Evan had tensed so badly at first that Regulus almost let go. But right before he made the decision to let go of Evan, the boy hugged him back and cried into Regulus' shoulder.

Another thing that Regulus was constantly had to reassure Evan about was that he didn't have to ask if he wanted a hug.

Evan let out a quiet sigh as he burrowed into Regulus' chest. Regulus pulled him closer. He would remind Evan as many times it took for him to accept it. To accept that he was loved and accepted and welcome. Regulus didn't care how many times he had to tell Evan.

Evan's breath eventually slowed to an even pace , that signified that he was asleep. Regulus stared at the boy hugging him for a while before he slowly drifted asleep.

[eternally-tired-cryptid]

It's thinking abt Gwenna hours again