#until i'm convinced

[starcurtain]

Please someone redraw this with Dr. Ratio and Aventurine because this is the exact vibe they have in my head post-Penacony.

[hellolulu]

Damian walking past Tim's room to get water in the middle of the night hearing, "yes, I know. I know. You're excited to get to the bottom of this problem. I'm aware. I hear you, really I do. You make a good case. I would really love to work on it, too." and wondering who he's speaking to, only for him to continue, "but you're trying to be GOOD about your silly little human body right now. So get up. Go to bed. You need to sleep. Don't be an idiot. Come on. It's bedtime. For real. Let's go." so Dami peeks in, and it's just Tim talking to himself, growing more frustrated by the moment (though his tone suggests nonchalance). He's still firmly planted in the chair. He tried his best.

[sensitiveheartless]

Part 4 of the "Dazai and Chuuya being competitive, mutually pining disasters" comics!

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Most of this one is under the cut because it got LONG

[bookishdaze]

So you know how Belle's name means beauty and how she is the most beautiful girl in town? Well, the same goes for Nova's name.

In the original Planet of the Apes novel by Pierre Boulle, the feral human woman's appearance left such an impression on the protagonist that he names her Nova because she was as beautiful as a brilliant star. As beautiful as a supernova from space.

Which got me thinking how in the telescope scene, there are two things that fascinated Noa and left an impression on him. The brilliant stars in the telescope...and this human girl called Nova.

He was looking at two different types of pretty novas in this scene, hehe

[sunlit-mess]

I can only take so much, but lately, they have replaced my reflection. And realize I'm just as bad as them.

[iridescentoracle]

i am so obsessed with how like. taken as read the ot3 are at this point. like on the one hand it feels like they've been building up to this for ages but on the other hand it kind of feels like i blinked and we skipped right past some Major Turning Point where everything got spelled out and we're just already in firmly Established Relationship-land. obviously tarvek is too well-protected for anyone to assassinate openly, look how angry his boyfriend and girlfriend are at the idea of anyone threatening him. at this point i'm half-convinced agatha's just going to refer to her boyfriends in passing to someone else and no one's even going to comment on it until van finds out twenty pages later and immediately starts making everyone pay up

[somegrumpynerd]

When you find out years later that you accidentally named one of your henchmen

Image ID: A multi-panel comic featuring au sanses. Panel 1: In Killer's original universe. A dark figure stands in the foreground while Killer is sitting back in the snow, covered in blood. Killer says "wh-what are you?" Panel 2: The dark figure is Nightmare but only his smile is visible. He says "I am Nightmare, guardian of all negativity in the multiverse ...and I have a proposition for you, Sans." Panel 3: Nightmare's hand is outstreched, he says "Come with me willingly and I'll take you out of this desolate and barren universe and let you loose on many others." Panel 4: Killer is looking back at Nightmare warily, a thought bubble shows he is thinking "other universes...?". He says "...in exchange for what? What do you want with me?" Panel 5: Nightmare's tentacles are reaching out towards Killer. He says "I feed off the fear and misery and hatred in this world, stirring these up will keep me powerful enough to fight against the guardian of positivity. In short," Panel 6: Nightmare is looming over Killer now, his tentacles surrounding him. He says "I just need you to be a good little killer." The word killer is in red text. Panel 7: Killer is grasping Nightmare's hand, having accepted his offer. Panel 8: Now in a different au, Nightmare stands beside Killer as he taunts Dream, who is out of frame. He says "You're outnumbered now Dream, I have a killer with me this time." The word killer is in red text again. Panel 9: Dream is lying on the ground looking hurt and ruffed up. Killer is standing in the background, looking ready to continue beating Dream up. Nightmare says from out of frame "You should know better than to turn your back on a killer by now." The word killer is in red text again. Panel 10: Nightmare is standing by Killer again, looking smug. He says to Dream, who is not shown "You'll need more than that pathetic bow next time you meet with my killer here." The word killer is in red text again. Killer is looking towards Nightmare, pleased with this. Panel 11: We are now in Nightmare's castle, present day. It is revealed to be Killer telling these events to Dust, who looks bored. Killer says "-and the name stuck, so that's why I'm called Killer now." Dust says very quietly "did I ask" Panel 12: Nightmare is standing in the corner behind them, he looks very surprised and concerned after hearing all this. Text with an arrow pointing to him reads "Didn't realise he had done this." Killer from out of frame says "he doesn't really call me his killer anymore tho" with a frowny face. Dust, also out of frame, says "that's nice now shut up" End ID.

[insomnya777]

boat boys coded

[lotus-pear]

what is childe doing in bungou gay dogs😟

[atlas-cian]

Billford but imagine they studied in the same place lol

Pd: this is probably the first time I used this many tags

[gayness-and-mayhem]

Father Mulcahy being a spin the bottle champion is something that's so important to me actually.

[prince-liest]

I got a government grant from a clean air project for turning in my '97 Corolla for a very hefty chunk of money off of a new (or new-ish) hybrid vehicle from an approved dealership, finally went to purchase my new car today with my dad, and ended up getting a 2025 Toyota Camry SE.

Sorry, Alastor, I think I'm with Vox on the front of technological advancement, ahaha. It's almost a 30 year jump in car technologies and I damn well feel like I've upgraded into the new century (or, well - millennium, technically)! This car does so many things and they all manage to feel like they are actually convenient rather than useless technology bloat. I think this is technically what Nietzsche meant when he said that to live is to suffer, LOL. Can't appreciate the good stuff if you haven't experienced the alternative! Also, y'know. My breaks lost pressure on me in the middle of a winding mountain road with no cell service last month, so. That was the sign to move on.

It's so wild to go from a car that's got a plain metal key, a phone charger operated through the cigarette lighter that only succeeds in making my phone lose charge more slowly, an AC system that would vibrate the whole dashboard alarmingly if it had to work too hard, and music that I played through a casette tape with bluetooth connectivity...to a car where I get in, put my phone down on the wireless charging pad, and watch the touchscreen automatically turn on with my Spotify and Google maps. Never again am I going to accidentally leave my headlights on and drain my car battery, LOL. Thanks, battery-attached jumper cables, you served me well. The car is so damn quiet and smooth, too.

Also, it's a very pretty car! I got it in white. Sorry, "windchill pearl."

Anyway, I'm just experiencing a delightful bit of awe and joy. Happy graduation and early birthday to me! <3

[becca-e-barnes]

I've been writing my dissertation like that gif of the cat frantically slamming a keyboard (you know the one) but it's got me thinking about professor Bucky and how he might incentivise you to get your work done for his class 😏

"You're not getting an extension. Don't even think about e-mailing me for one." The hardest part of dating your lecturer isn't actually the sneaking around; it's that he's a hell of a lot tougher on you than the rest of the class.

"But Bucky I-" You begin but he cuts you off and you know by the look on his face that there's no point pressing it.

"No. You're more than capable and you've got plenty of time to get it done. You don't need an extension, you need to apply yourself."

God, he's annoying. You know you can do it, you never said you couldn't. You just don't want to. There's a massive difference.

He pulls his copy of the required reading out of his bag, setting it on the desk beside your laptop and it takes everything in you not to bury your head in your hands.

"There. I've helped you enough." He nods towards the textbook but when you don't move, he flicks through the pages with a sigh, leaving it open at the chapter you know you should start with.

You sit there for another few seconds in a foul mood, mentally preparing yourself to sit here for the next few hours.

"How about I help you? I get the impression you need an incentive." He knows you too well, there's nothing more motivating than a little treat. "You have 12,000 words to write. For every 1,000 you write this week, I'll give you an orgasm."

Maybe you should complain about his assignments more often.

"Deal." Hell, if you'd known this was coming, you'd have started ages ago.

"Good girl." He laughs, amused at the rate at which your fingers begin to dance over the keyboard.

Getting started isn't too hard. You type out a quick plan of your chapters, dropping in the sources you know you'll need before starting your introduction and with your focus on your work, you hardly notice Bucky sinking to his knees under the desk.

You feel his warm, open mouthed kisses trailing up your thighs under your skirt and his soft groans drag your attention away from the laptop.

"Don't stop working." He insists, licking your sex through your cotton underwear, letting you enjoy the delicious friction on your cunt. "You're almost at the first thousand and it reads well so far." You feel his hot breath against the now wet cotton while one of your hands falls to tug his hair.

"If you stop typing, I stop licking." He threatens, pulling your panties to the side, gliding his tongue against your skin and groaning at the taste of your arousal.

You have just over 200 words until you reach your first thousand and it should be so easy but it becomes even harder when he sinks two fingers into you and you're able to hear how wet you are already.

His lips engulf your clit, sucking gently while flicking his tongue in vertical strokes in time with his fingers curling inside you. "Such a smart girl. I'm so proud of you." He hums before giving you a few broad strokes with a flat tongue.

He knows what his praise does to you and with your thighs clamped around his head, you fly your way through a few hundred more words. He chuckles when you proudly announce you reached a thousand but you don't stop typing at the same frantic pace.

"Sweetheart, if you want to get all 12,000 done this evening, I'll sit here as long as it takes." He smiles against your skin before giving you everything he knows you need. His tongue flicks quickly over your clit and his fingertips rub against the soft, spongy spot inside you and in no time you're gushing against his face, gripping his hair and riding your high out on his waiting tongue.

[johnslittlespoon]

accidentally just created my own buckbucky college au oops (i love college aus tho, this was far overdue tbh) so here's like ~2k words of (semi–nsfw) drabble that i wanna turn into a oneshot/series :-)

thinking about modern au pre–established relationship buckbucky who meet in their first year of college because they apply to an ad to rent a two bedroom apartment near campus, complete strangers save for a few texts back and forth until move in day.

they become fast friends despite how opposite they are, john being a cliche frat boy type (but subverting expectations by majoring in something english–related? waxing secret poetry about his 'obvious as the sun to everyone but gale' crush on his roommate lol) and gale being a studious math/science major, no interest in parties or campus culture. pining aside, everything's just fine until:

john does something stupid a few months into the school year and ends up spraining/breaking his dominant arm– probably wipes out trying to ride his bike home to his and gale's apartment while drunk after a party. gale gets a call at midnight from a sheepish john asking if he can come drive him to the hospital, and of course he does, though after his initial concern when he picks john up at the side of some random street, he's fuming at john's idiocy.

"you could've rode into traffic, john. jesus, you're gonna give me a stroke one of these days, you gotta start using your brain more." and john's drenched in cold–sweat from pain as he cradles his arm to his chest, head tilted back against the headrest and trying not to curse out every red light as his head spins, but he still cracks a weak smile and says "c'mon buck, you'd be bored if i started using my brain." gale glances over and the stern look is enough to shut john up.

this injury leads to gale having to help him with certain tasks for a bit, like shaving his face, brushing his teeth, doing his hair, tying shoes, etc. john's stubborn the day after, independent to a fault, refusing to ask for help, and gale watches with mild amusement/hidden winces, not wanting to push because he knows by now it'll only make john dig his heels in. gale only decides that enough is enough when he's walking past the half–open bathroom door the next afternoon and suddenly hears a sharp inhale and a stream of profanities and pokes his head in to find john's cut his jaw trying to shave with his left hand.

the intimacy and domesticity of it all– john pretends he's inconvenienced, but once he realizes this means he gets to stare at gale's focussed face up close as he sits on the bathroom counter and gale stands between his legs carefully shaving away his stubble, he's a lot less reluctant to accept help. but being that close to gale's face and being able to unabashedly study his long lashes and the curve of his lips is dangerous for john's lack of impulse control, barely keeping his pining under wraps from the moment they'd met, let alone with this newfound proximity they have to fall into the routine of.

so john has fun being a shithead on purpose during these moments, both to distract his yearning brain and for his own entertainment, just yapping away while gale's frustratedly trying to grab him by his jaw and hold him still for five seconds. biting down on the toothbrush when gale's trying to do a proper job of brushing his teeth so gale has to wrestle it away like he's playing tug of war with a dog, being an asshole and jerking his shoe to the side while gale's doing up his laces for him, heart leaping at the thrill he gets from gale's touches getting firmer when he's fed up, or from being pinned by irritated blue eyes.

he has no idea gale's pining just as hard, because gale's a master of concealing emotions in thanks to a very different upbringing than john's, and because while gale doesn't hide his queerness, he's not as open with it as john is. but gale's losing his mind just as much each time john needs his help, and the way he feels his self control slipping scares him.

this little dance around each other probably comes to a peak when john's being extra difficult one day while gale's trying to tame his wild curls for him. gale's got john pressed back against the bathroom counter with a scowl, working his gelled fingers through thick dark hair, and john can barely think straight because oh, has he ever spent an ungodly amount of time thinking about gale's hands in his hair under very different circumstances.

john's got a grin so big it near splits his face in half as he purposefully leans out of gale's reach, pulling every annoying thing he can think of because if he focuses too hard on gale's motions, he's gonna pop a very inconvenient boner with no hope of concealing it from gale with the way he's pressed up against him.

but gale's got twenty minutes until his next class and it's a ten minute walk from their apartment, and he's at the end of his rope, so he finally snaps and without giving it a second thought he closes the last bit of distance between them to grab at the back of john's hair, and he pulls, hard.

the smile slides off john's face as his mouth falls open and his hips reflexively jerk forward and whatever scolding gale was about to give him dies in his throat because holy shit. there's a few seconds where both of them just stare at each other wide eyed with their hearts pounding, john internally spiralling because he thinks he's just fucked everything up, gale internally spiralling because oh my god, he hasn't been misreading john's behaviour around him.

gale whispers a "fuck" and, more impulsive than he's ever allowed himself to be, goes in for the kiss, hand still tight in john's hair, and john whines into his mouth and his hands fly to gale's waist and everything gets heated really quick– until gale pulls away with a gasp for breath, both of them panting, cheeks flushed and eyes heavy. and then gale's ducking out of the bathroom and grabbing his backpack from the entry way and all but sprinting out of the apartment.

john's left standing there harder than he's ever been in his life but also panicking because he's not sure whether he's fucked up or whether gale's just overwhelmed, because he knows gale well enough to know he likes his space when big things happen.

but gale also knows john well enough to know how big of an overthinker he is; they've probably had to work through some incidents where their communication styles have clashed over the few months they've been roomies. so after his hands stop shaking enough while he's walking to campus, he types out a message to john letting him know 'I'm all good. Sorry for running, was gonna be late for class and panicked. Talk later, yeah?'

and john sighs in relief, texts back a 'np. sounds good :)' and then promptly shoves a hand down his pants and comes embarrassingly quick with the sting of gale's hands in his hair still fresh in his mind.

they talk things out somewhat, blahblahblah plotting problem for future me, but they're both shy and awkward around each other for a bit, which is so out of character for john and how obnoxiously flirty and loud mouthed he normally is.

so maybe what finally breaks them out of this tiptoeing around each other after a few days is something stupid– specifically, john ends up pent up and frustrated because trying to get off with his left hand just isn't doing it for him. and he's one of those 'once a day minimum' guys, so this isn't something he can just ignore; finds his temper is shorter, and he can't focus as well, etc. drama queen.

either gale comments on it lightheartedly and john blurts out his problem unthinkingly, or john makes an offhand joke about it, and gale thinks john's lack of impulse control is starting to rub off on him, because after a beat of silence, he gets out an "i can help."

john's head snaps over to look at him so fast he feels like he gives himself whiplash, eyes comically rounded, wondering if he's heard gale wrong or if gale's making a rare flirtatious joke. gale blinks back at him, looking just as surprised, tips of his ears going a little pink, but he doesn't laugh or throw in a 'only kidding!'

mumbles a "y'know, if you want," second guessing himself as if what happened in the bathroom a few days before isn't in john's top three best things that have ever happened to him list. john gets out a "yeah– yeah, i want," uncharacteristically nervous, and gale nods, turning his attention back to his laptop. and john just stands there in the kitchen, flabbergasted, shifting uncertainly.

works up the courage to shyly ask, "like. now? or." and he feels like he's never fumbled the bag so hard in his life, unable to remember the last time he's felt shy when talking about sex–related stuff, realizes just how bad his crush on gale's gotten. beyond a crush, at this point. and it makes it worse that gale's so nonchalant now, humming to himself as if in deep thought before saying "later. i've gotta get this assignment done."

john loses his mind over those next few hours, trying to be patient and give gale space to focus, but he's half hard the whole time and can't think about anything other than what gale means by 'helping'. gale can sense his impatience from the other side of their apartment, and he can't help the way it makes him smile to himself, having fun teasing john without even needing to do anything, and without john knowing it's fully intentional.

unfortunately this arrangement, however it plays out, probably leads to a lotta miscommunication and repression of feelings, because they're both dumb boys who suck at communicating, neither one of them wanting to ruin a good thing (aka an inevitable friends with benefits situation) by bringing up their feelings for the other. but there's plenty of hot sex and light kink exploration in the meantime, and eventually they sort their shit out, likely by accident like every other situation they've stumbled into together.

and not to cliffhang pre–smut, but i'll leave it there because this is way too long and if i do turn it into a oneshot i don't wanna write it all out of my system into this drabble before it makes it into a fic loll <3

[darkwood-sleddog]

welp. i left the slider open because the dogs were lounging outside and a bird flew in the slider and immediately proceeds to fly to the top of my vaulted ceiling. it's now in our loft bedroom where it repeatedly contemplates how to next slam itself into the window on our tallest wall.

[just-an-enby-lemon]

People are always making horror versions of Peter Pan but as a transmasc who was obcessed with Peter growing up he will forever br my first trans alegory. I wanted to be Peter Pan so badly and at the time I had no idea why I was so afraid of growing up. Because as a kid I was a "girl" but being percieved as a girl was not that different from being a boy.

I could walk around shirtless depending on the place cause I had no boobs, I could sit whoever I wanted and my parents would frown but not care as much if I played with all types of toys and watched all cartoons. I could wear any type of clothes and it wouldn't matter. Gender doesn't matter as much until you are an adult and deep down you know that.

I was terrifield of growing up. I wanted to be Peter Pan. Forever a lost boy. Never having to deal with the pressures of a womanhood I mostly couldn't see myself in.

And so if I ever wrote a Peter Pan story it would be about transmasc Peter and transfem Wendy and the fear of growing up and losing this place where their gender identity and expression mattered a little less. And the positive note was that while we have to grow up we don't have to became what people expect and that is hard but we have our place in this earth and we have joy and is worth it. I'll likely never do that. But Peter Pan will always mean that to me.