#writing the... kind of stuff i write too

[oleanderbailey]

toying with the forgiveness of the general public by deciding to write on a medium busy train

[egophiliac]

I loved your drawing(and I love your style in general) with Leia in your recent post! If/when you have time can we see more of her in your style? I get so happy whenever I actually see people mention/talk about her and she’s not just forgotten because we didn’t get to see much of her. 😭

thank you! 💙💙💙 Leia/Leah/Lea/whatever is fascinating to me. she is the ultimate unknown. what was she like? how involved (or even aware of any details of the invasion) was she? Silver's basically a physical carbon copy of his biodad, so what did he get from her? like, I understand why the two of them kind of have to stay as these super vague and mysterious figures -- the whole point of them is that their story ended 400+ years ago and they're not really relevant anymore (and. well. the more that gets explained about them, the less that can just kinda be handwaved as "oh the politics were Very Messy") (we can sit here and theorize all day but let us acknowledge that, ultimately, canon gave us almost nothing about them post-Meleanor and we'd just be making things up). I do still wonder about her though! RIP Lea, we never knew you and we probably never will.

actually you know what, as long as we're here, I think I WILL go ahead and just make some stuff up about what Silver might've inherited from her instead.

[foldingfittedsheets]

I was talking to a coworker recently and offhandedly said I wasn’t exactly competent at a lot of things. He reared back in obvious visceral disagreement that made me stop midsentence.

“What do you mean you’re not competent?”

“I guess I mean compared to the people I’m surrounded by? I’m not very handy, I guess.”

He looked baffled.

I tried to illuminate with a story. So at the sex shop we needed to vacuum every night, right? But one time after my days off I could tell the carpets hadn’t been vacuumed since I last saw them. I asked the other girls why not. It turned out that the screw that held the handle on the vacuum had been stripped and it wouldn’t stay in. Why was that down to a single screw? Bad design.

So any attempt to vacuum meant the handle just popped off when the screw jumped ship. I looked over the vacuum. I found a junk drawer. I found the biggest screw I could that still fit in the hole wrapped it in tape to bulk it out. Then I shoved/screwed it in place. Then I duct taped the opening so that fucker couldn’t pop out. Voila, a working handle.

The other girls were utterly delighted that I’d fixed the vacuum but I was painfully aware that my solution was neither elegant nor long term.

My coworker listened. Finally he said, “I think being competent just means you have the ability to learn a skill you lack, and you can do that. Your solution worked, and you were the one that tried to fix the problem.”

I digested that and agreed, but admitted any new skill learned would prompt me to be a huge baby about it.

[fatedroses]

When you sell your soul to the merchant devils for outfits v-v

[borealwrites]

I see your (general) “Kakashi expects children to be half as smart as he was at that age” AU and raise you a “Kakashi thinks children are way dumber than they actually are” AU. His only in-person experiences with pre genin are himself, a year at the academy, and Naruto.

So he’s convinced that Iruka is some kind of god for wrangling 17 half-feral children (and Naruto) into real human beings who can read and write and use chopsticks and deadly weapons. Yes, clan children probably learn a bit before, but still.

Kakashi: can’t believe you taught them almost everything they know

Iruka: I didn’t??

Kakashi: I watched you turn 18 hellions into mostly functional members of society

Iruka: most of my kids were well behaved

Kakashi: they absolutely were not, I once saw baby Shino bite Chouji and Hinata took out Gai’s kneecaps because he stood still long enough for her to catch him

[violent138]

Superbat parenting babies would be a breeze in my humble opinion. Bruce's medically well-versed enough and immune to even enhanced interrogation levels of sleeplessness, and loves kids and would probably be happy reading them stories to sleep every night.

And Clark could always tell if the kid swallowed fridge magnets/batteries/something else. Also, tell me which baby wouldn't enjoy Clark's presence and calmness. They'd be like little hamsters cajoled by the steadiness of his hold.

[szilverer]

y'know... for a setting that places so much importance in Language and does so many ice cool things playing with it (Correspondence/Discordance, Parabola & Irem, etc) i think there's a bit of a missed opportunity when it comes to the terms and words people use in their day to day life... like for example:

do you think radical revolutionaries would avoid words like "enlightening" in their vocabulary and flip them for LON-appropriate counterparts to signal their beliefs?

like substituting the word "light" with "blight". lol

similarly, pet names relating to light like "sunshine" kinda have a whole extra flavour tied to them, leaning into nostalgia, melancholy and/or danger depending on the people using it. irony, even

"honey" as a pet name also has extra connotations now and might actually bother some people instead due to the association with the drug...

do you think SMEN, taboo as it is, and seeking being a recognizable phenomenon even to the common londoner, would spawn swear words and insults? (imagine the weight of telling someone to Go Seek or Fall Down a Well)

the word "well" itself. well as an adverb, interjection, adjective. just. think about it. think about what it represents. idk something is happening to this word for sure

[that1notetaker]

So its been like a year since I touched Hazbin but I found some unfinished doodles, and drawing these two is always fun. Anyway, Lucifer doesn't abuse his power actively, but he does it in the sense that he knows that Alastor can't touch him (even when he tries), so he's free to try very very very hard to win the guy over by the sheer power of being annoying. It's basically his new long term project. It throws Alastor off, makes him angry, but no one can deny that Lucifer is actually pretty fucking entertaining. It keeps Alastor on his toes, which is FUN, which in turn makes him MAD.

[rainbowsuitcase]

I haven't read a highschool AU in so long, but I've just been hit by the idea of Highschool IceMav. Ice is the new kid in town and he's desperate to make friends and fit in, so when the kids he's kind of hanging out with dare him to take Mav on a date, he doesn't say no.

Mav, the loner kid with foster parents that don't really care about him. He doesn't really have friends, doesn't talk to anyone and often gets in trouble (even thought it's rarely actually just his fault, but no one cares about that).

Cue Ice's "I was doing this just to be one of the cool kids but I'm starting to really like you" and Mav's "I didn't trust you for shit at first, but I'm starting to think I can."

Cue the angst when the cool kids inevitably reveal to Mav that it was all just a dare, because they really just wanted to fuck with them both.

It's a cliche but I'm obessed.

[egophiliac]

happy new year Ego!!! Just wanted to let you know that I absolutely adore your twst fanart and the tags are just an absolute pleasure to read! You are my greatest inspiration for my personal twst art and I just wanted to thank you for your wonderful masterpieces <333 if possible, may I ask what are some of your headcanons for the diasomnia family? If not for diasomnia then any other characters are fine as well!

thank you, and happy new year! 💚💜💚 that is amazing to hear; it's always a little bewildering but super flattering that other people like my silly little doodles so much!

I don't think I really have any really solid headcanons and also canon keeps validating me left and right (FLUFFY DOMESTIC DIAFAM IS REAL). mostly just kind of...impressions and general thoughts, if that makes sense! lately though I've been kind of obsessed with thinking about Lilia's hair, and specifically when/why he ended up cutting it. (l-look, we're bouncing around the timeline and I gotta make decisions about these things when I draw, it's relevant) (I mean I would probably be weirdly fixated on this anyway, but.)

I think I've settled on the idea that he kept it long until he went to NRC, partly because 1) I like drawing The Ponytail, and 2) I think he thought of NRC as a chance to reinvent himself a bit! he gets to go and be a wacky carefree teenager for a few years and have fun! (officially he's there to keep an eye on Son #1, but how much trouble could he get into, really.) so he gave himself a Cool Teen Haircut to go with his fresh new Cool Teen Persona!

also maybe he had some reflection on his hair's troubled past with three kids...

...and had to weigh his vanity versus the fact that he was going off to be around hundreds of kids on a daily basis, and. the choice suddenly seemed obvious.

[dapper-lil-arts]

Woop! My Sunset disco elysium fic did NOT get banished! Celebrating by posting another chapter -v-

Tried drawing semi-close to the style, and failed miserably. My artstyle doesn't match it at ALL.

[crybaby-bkg]

method actor boyfriend yuuta who gets a little too invested in his upcoming movie role. he’s playing some psycho character; someone calculated and manipulative; cunning; a stalker; eventually a killer. he’s always been a good actor, but sometimes he has to delve deep in order to portray a role to the best of his abilities.

you start to notice a difference in him after a while, though. he tells you he has to leave you for a few hours at a time, only for you to catch sight of his gaze lingering in the bushes outside of your home. or do you? you’re never really sure, always catching glimpses and glances that make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. but you’re never really sure if you see him, his low stare, his tightly pulled mouth, the weapon his character uses slung over his shoulder.

he starts speaking to you differently, too. his vocabulary starts to be riddled with love and devotion and adoration, every chance he gets. he holds you close to him, too close, too tight, rests his face against your hairline, whispers against your skin, “don’t leave me—don’t ever leave me—I love you—you love me, don’t you?—don’t you?—you love me, right?”

sex with him isn’t really the same, either. he doesn’t even call it that anymore, calls it making love, and it wouldn’t be as unsettling if he didn’t look at you like that every time. like you hung the moon and the stars with your bare hands, like you breathed life into his very being, like you broke off a piece of your rib to place it so delicately inside his sternum.

his eyes get so rounded, so wide, seeing every inch of you, even the pieces hidden under the covers. his hands are so soft but they grip you so tightly, as if he’s scared that you might slip away if he blinks too long. his mouth constantly connected to your skin, whispering praises, his love for you, how you’re meant for him, how he can’t wait to be one.

he’s already inside of you, though. how else could he connect his body to yours? you know he’s playing a killer, someone willing to cut and scrape and bruise and maim the one he loves most. but he knows that it’s just a movie, right? that you’re not the star, that you’re his real partner, that he’s not actually like that? right?

[starving-mimi]

Less of an ask but I just wanna say thank you for drawing wilson as petty little bitch even if only for comedy. Like. You get him. And that pleases me greatly. Thank you, love your doodles.

thank YOU! I love portraying wilson as a kind of petty, eccentric guy with a big hint of misanthropy, and even tho i exagerate it for the comedy, i do really love seeing him that way hehe

[fruchtfliege]

How everyone thought it would go:

How it's going:

Um... He's a rescue (bonus chapter edition!!!) 🐺🥰

Synopsis: “What?” Mason asks like he doesn't understand why Liam is trying to be optimistic for the first time in his life. “Stiles is literally coming here to condemn you and probably start a campaign to – at the very least – exile Theo. He's literally coming to fight with you and you're not good with confrontation…” Mason sees Theo giving him an intense glare but he's not sure what it means. “Scott might be coming too but it's just as scary because he's the alpha so if he sides with Stiles – his best friend, his brother – then that's that. He'll have the final word. I mean, what are you gonna do? Rebel against Scott? I don't think-”

Liam gags, a wave of crushing dread driving him nauseous, but thankfully nothing comes out.

Tags: Dog!Theo. Wolf!Theo. It's confrontation time babeyyyy. Mason being Liam's best friend. Stiles is on a mission (derogatory). The puppy pack being semi helpful. Hurt/comfort. Making out.

[everestgale]

Why?

[This is a direct continuation of my half-Opportunist angst half-Skeptunist comic from February "It was in your nature," it takes place right as the comic is ending. This is your spoiler warning! Also it's a lot shorter than my last writing attempt, just under 1000 words (rather than 4000 it was last time-)]

[If I can't finish making drawings for my favorite ship, I will write them instead. Beaming these birds, they won't leave me alone (T v T)]

[Content warnings: blood, dead body]

[Hope you enjoy!]

_________________________________________

So why did you–

Opportunist slid off onto his knees, the blade uselessly clattering beside him. He dragged his right hand and smeared a dark stain across the ground beneath; copper scent lingered in the back of his throat. His eyes froze in a dazed, petrified expression, locked onto the viscous pool of crimson. 

Why?

The question lingered, ringing endlessly in Opportunist’s head. His own inner voice sounded foreign, as though someone else from deep beneath kept asking why. That question would never have a clear answer now. How ironic, Opportunist thought, he would’ve hated that.

He will never hate anything again.

He will never ask anything again, either.

Opportunist winced, tasting the bile in his mouth. He tried to lift his body and stand up, but he staggered and tripped forward, his elbows now deep in blood. The deep indigo cloak loomed before his eyes, drenched and stained red. Opportunist tried to push himself away but lacked the strength–

Like always.

The stray thought got caught in Opportunist’s mind. He wasn’t always like this, no, he couldn’t be, he wasn’t weak, he was a sensible person looking out for himself, he had to–

Why?

A vision flashed before Opportunist; he suddenly sat at the kitchen table, waving a deck of cards in his hands at Skeptic. He was back at the card game night, the same night that Skeptic had ambushed him, tried to weasel his way into “cracking” Opportunist open like one of his many unsolved cases. He knew that Skeptic had tried to get close to him for a while, extensively studying his habits and mannerisms, but he couldn’t get a solid reason why. There had to be a reason Skeptic tried to get close to him… so naturally, what else would it be other than Skeptic’s vain attempts to find his weakness, to gain an advantage over him, to use it and abuse it against him–

Why?

Why would it be anything else?

Why?

Because–

Why?

…

Opportunist wasn’t sure anymore.

The very fiber of his being screamed at this creeping doubt; you fool, it thrashed in Opportunist's mind, he was a smart one, he knew too much, he planned to betray you. Better him than you.

As that thought crossed his mind, Opportunist's gaze focused on the body in front of him. For the briefest of moments, he saw blood-soaked brown feathers, rather than indigo, his body growing colder. He could hear a whistle; the sound of metal hitting flesh rang through the air, just as the sharp pain pierced down his back. That's what would happen, his very instinct whispered in his ears, better him than you–

Why?

The wretched question repeated itself, and another sharp pain arose, but this time, it was in Opportunist's heart.

If Skeptic truly schemed against him, wanted to gain the upper hand over him, tried to gain his trust to betray and backstab him later–

Why didn't you fight back?

Tears pooled in the corners of Opportunist's eyes; he squeezed them shut before his hands instinctively reached forward and grabbed Skeptic's lifeless body by the cloak. He brought it closer, acting on nothing but pure impulse and regret, and buried his face in one of Skeptic's wings, desperately clinging onto his dead flockmate.

Why did you let me kill you?

He let out a couple of quiet sobs, muffled by the soft flight feathers, still warm and comforting like they always were, almost like they belonged to someone living.

Opportunist could never let himself completely relax when he was with other people, he was so sure of it. And yet one gentle, fuzzy memory returned and lulled him out of this false confidence.

A nightmare. One brightly lit, stifling torch, surrounded by eternal, biting cold. He, no, everyone was supposed to celebrate its kind, blazing warmth… when it was the very thing that smothered life out of the air. Just as he was about to suffocate, Opportunist woke up with a shriek, shaking and desperately gasping. Everything afterwards was a blur to him, Opportunist could not recall what really happened that night… except, he distinctly remembered soft indigo wings, gently wrapping him in a warm embrace. He remembered relaxing into them, clinging to them, before drifting back to sleep. He remembered a gruff, but caring voice whispering something; he could not make out the words, but he knew they were tender… and honest.

He felt comfortable. 

The most comfortable he had ever felt in his entire life.

And yet Opportunist could not find the strength to trust him.

So why did you believe in me?

Was it for the same reason that Opportunist's heart broke as the blade hit Skeptic's back?

…

No.

No.

No, no, no, Skeptic, you fool, you– Opportunist could not let that thought linger for too long, for if it did, then that means…

Then that means Skeptic–

No.

loved–

No.

Opportunist jolted away from the lifeless body. 

No. 

He wiped the blood off his hands before brushing off the leftover tears. He took a shallow, ragged breath before he lifted his own body off the ground, the smallest movements requiring sustained effort. His heart ached as his wobbly legs moved him away from the pool of blood beneath his talons. But he couldn't let himself–

No.

Opportunist knew he wasn't safe right now. With Skeptic gone, the flock surely would erupt into chaos. And several of them would surely suspect Opportunist–

Luckily, he had a plan.

Whatever other thoughts or feelings or regrets wanted to surface, Opportunist buried them deep beneath. He had to keep going; he had to come out on top; he had to ensure his safety.

Better them than you.

It was in his nature.

[corpsentry]

love poem (typical)