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"I'm no stranger to the negotiating table. I mean, you should have seen some of the things I had to do for David to be able to put up the halloween decorations in that apartment we shared back in the day. (snort, giggle) No, just - (flustered sigh) - ...story for another time!" [Your Goof of a Werewolf Decides It’s Halloween Time, 5:54]
(voice of a guy that hasn’t properly finished a written piece in years and is currently on tumblr at like 4 am) i’m gonna write something to fill in this blank erik
They cooked. He cleaned. Grocery shopping was on his shoulder because he didn't want them to carry the heavy bags, and they did the laundry, shirts drying together, sleeves touching, like their hands whenever they would watch something on TV while cuddling on the couch.
Domestic, much.
Just two friends living together.
Sometimes, when the movie night turned longer than expected, their head lolling onto his shoulder or chest, them asleep soundly, he would just lay there, still and quiet, letting them catch some rest. Insomnia was not welcome, not when he could easily remedy it, magic not necessary when he had the power of old comedies playing.
Sometimes, they would study together, stealing glances at their respective notes. He would end up with doodles on the notebook's margins, kitty faces, and hearts with cupid's arrows going through the middle. They would often find a note between the pages, a reminder to smile or drink some water, or text him back. Simple things friends did for each other.
They were best friends. They were content with that. He, was content with that.
So why was his hand shaking when he opened the door late at night, groggy and in his pyjama pants, looking at his best friend who had smudged glitter on their face, slightly tangled hair and few bruises on their neck that looked like hickeys?
"Sorry, I forgot my keys." he let them in, lockign the door as they stepped inside, wobbly on legs that danced for too long.
"How was it?" he could see, but the question was more out of being nice rather than the curiosity. Trying his best not to let his voice crack, he scratched at his neck, muffling a yawn.
"Good, actually. Can't believe I didn't want to go." oh he heard all of it, his ear being talked off as they complained.
It's too late. I will have to cancel my shift so I won't have enough cash by the end of the week. Exams are coming, I shouldn't be partying. You weren't invited, are you really sure I should go? Won't that be rude to you?
"There was a happy hour, and hey, there were so many nice people getting me drinks. The bartender was a nice guy too, he complimented my shirt." the one he helped them pick out one shopping spree ago. It matched their style and it looked good indeed. He told them that too, on so many occasions.
"That really sounds great." he couldn't stop eyeing their neck as they slumped down onto the couch, shoes kicked off and legs placed on the arm rest, back popping with a nasty sound.
They were just friends. He had no right to be jealous, even if he wanted to be. The whole world seemed to notice what he saw in them, the pretty eyes, cunning smile and charming face that melted his frustration the moment it turned to him, all flushed and teasing his senses that tingled.
"And there was..." they started waving their hands, pointing at the neck. He would listen to every gossip they would share, talk shit with them for hours. But he wouldn't stand listening to them talking about someone who manages to do that, while he was asleep in his own bed, unaware.
Best friend. He was just their best friend and that had to be enough.
"You can tell me that tomorrow, okay? You sure must be tired." half smile offered, he had to calm himself somehow. Sitting by them, they shifted around, immediately cuddling up to him, arms wrapping around his torso, head back to the spot it rested so perfectly on. Faint smell of booze lingering, masked with their perfume, they almost smelled so divine–
"I wish you could have gone with me." they hummed, voice muffled as they pushed closer, nose pressing against the freshly healed tattoo on his chest.
"Maybe next time." he would love that, actually. There was a new club opening soon, he could take them there. Get some drinks, dance a little, spend some time together that he wanted to have with them.
"Mhm... next time."
"Promise?"
"Of course. Now, let's get you out of those clothes and into bed." he would take care of everything. Pick them up, carry to the bathroom so they could wash their face and brush their teeth, bring them clean clothes to change into, lay them on the bed and leave a kiss on the forehead for better dreams.
Bestie is sooooo "Carmen" by Lana coded. They are effortlessly gorgeous, always turning heads, making friends so easily and getting drinks just because.
All while Blake stands beside them, cursing at the world for noticing the same things he deemed perfect in them, hands clenching whenever someone got too close to what he wanted to have for himself only.
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ALSO let’s not gloss over the fact that bestie is NOT leaving or betraying blake since im seeing a lot of people interpret it that way. this is not bestie finally viewing blake as beyond help or finally seeing that he’s crazy or giving themselves a way out.
this bitch ARGUED with brachium vocally defending him with some “that wasn’t him that was d’deridahn” argument. and also bestie already knows everything about the basement bc d’deridahn showed them on day 1 and they did NOT gaf LMAO they went “you did that for me??” and kissed that freak. bestie only RELUCTANTLY gave brachium any information because brachium promised that if there was any way to save blake and keep him in tact when separating him from d’deridahn, that he would do that. bestie literally asked brachium to HELP blake and brachium was like “WHAT are you even saying rn” but gave in bc he NEEDED that info. bestie literally made it so that BRACHIUM, number one blake hater who swore he would kill blake, promised he WOULD NOT kill blake and guarantee blake’s SAFETY to the best of his ability. bestie is not going anywhere.
bestie is trying to save blake behind the scenes the same way blake had been trying to save bestie behind the scenes because these two characters have always been two sides of the same coin and it fucks me up because they’re so perfect together FUCKKKKKK PRY THEM FROM MY COLD DEAD HANDS BESTIE LOVES THEIR MAN SORRY ABOUT IT
let it be known that blake and bestie are two fucked up insane and a little evil individuals who are like cosmically destined to be in love with each other. they’re in love and they’re making it every one else’s problem and that’s the whole reason the balance started in the first place
it’s so crazy to me that people don’t think bestie’s a freak bro did we watch that same ending d’d was like “hey your bf (??????) infiltrated a cult to learn more about the god of death then tortured these two people for days on end to make a deal with the god of death then let a shade rip him apart in order to speak directly with an ancient sovereign who he then let possess his body” and they were like “and it was all for little old me 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤” LMFAO
i want more milo and lasko interactions what ever happened to him calling him lasky in the inversion
in my mind dear and david meet due to lasko’s connection to the pack and everyone’s fucking stunned that they’ve met someone with a voice that’s as deep as or deeper than david’s
i love picturing dear as like a carbon copy of david cause it’s such a contrast between them and lasko LMFAO i’m thinking morgan freeman type shit
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Guards! Put the blond man in spandex in situations!
Welcome to the Star Spider Grace AU Pilot! Here’s the previous Initial concepts . Me & Sam have been brewing this concept and now we’re both into too deep. Dunno how many chapters I will draw but anyway-
NEXT (ISSUE #1 / ISSUE#2 (already on my ko-Fi!)
Fics inspired by this concept:
Project Evolution by @sam-i-am-27 : THE fic. Sam and I have been coming out with most of the concepts together (both for the comic and the fic) but this is their own work so go check them out! Since we draw/write each at our own pace some stuff are/will be different.
Your Graceful, Neighbourhood Spiderman by @var1an-onl1n3
Friendly Neighborhood Star-Spider by Daisy_yellow
Uncover: to lay bare, disclose, reveal by @foxinsheepsclothing-ao3
Darn it, let’s do this one final time! By @therivergirl
One and Only Star-Spider by Finding_7th
With Great Power by overarainbow
Your Friendly Neighbourhood Astrophage by S0me_Idi0t
If you find more let me know! I'm only tagging those who explicitly credited me, as there are other spiderman AU fics on ao3 not necessarely related to my version
(a/n: hey...this was supposed to be made last month. all it took was a fresh set of nails to remind me how much i love the way my fingers look when i type– i mean. how much i love to write. HUGE shoutout to @damnbtway for this idea. hope you enjoy my inability to write full fluff)
“I don't think I'm meant for love.”
David looked up from his laptop, eyebrows scrunched in the way that told Asher that he was deciding between polite concern and well-worn frustration, the downtick to his lips giving credence to the latter.
“Dramatic.” David observed, his tone neutral but not unkind. “I take it dinner didn't go well?”
“You take it one million percent correctly.” he huffed in reply, beelining for the fridge to grab a pop before collapsing on the sofa with a long-suffering sigh.
Silence.
He sighed again, casting his eyes down and to the side in forlorn despondency.
More silence.
He opened his mouth to sigh again, but changed course to a snicker when he heard the laptop click shut.
“What happened.”
“Well, if you must know,” he began, earning a withering glare that he pointedly ignored, “he got there on time.”
A different kind of silence.
“So…he's punctual. And that's…that's a problem?” David asked, his nose wrinkling in thought.
“Yeah, but you don't understand. I was early. Like, ten whole minutes early.”
This earned a surprised and somewhat approving expression that really shouldn't have made his heart stutter the way it did.
“I'm impressed,” David replied, his voice taking on the cadence of careful intention, “but he still showed up on time.”
“It's the principle of the matter.” he huffed. “He should be just as excited to see me as I was to see him.”
He realized how immature and disproportionate that sounded, but such things never truly mattered in moments of baggage disposal such as these.
“Right.” It was a testament to the utmost gravity of this situation that David didn't tack on a snide comment.
“Did anything else happen, or are you just realizing what it's like for everyone on the flip side when they meet up with you?”
Ah. There it was.
“Ass.” he groused, giving David a squinted look, though it wasn't without a deepening of his smile lines. “You know, no one would ever believe me if I told them how petty you are. You've got everyone under the impression that you're just a stoic sort of dickhead, when in reality, you're just as much a shithead as me.”
“Well,” David rumbled, returning his narrowed gaze with a cool look of his own, “there's something to be said about letting the pretenses drop around someone who knows you better than anyone else.”
“Ass.” he grunted again, praying that his best friend couldn't detect the hitch in his breathing.
“Come on,” David sighed, propping his elbow on the couch and leaning his head on his palm. “What else went so wrong that you're denouncing romance forever?”
Asher faltered, the tender skin at the sides of his nails suddenly becoming an increasingly distracting sight.
“Did he say something?” David's tone dropped into a warning grind. “Did he insult you? Make you uncomfortable? Try to do something you didn't want–”
“No, no.” he rushed to assuage him. “Nothing like that.”
“Oh.”
David settled back, though only slightly, his posture still tensed in anticipation of something yet unrealized.
“Then what was the problem?”
Asher didn't say anything for a long while, weighing the pros and cons of spilling his guts. He ultimately came to the conclusion that he owed nothing short of complete and utter transparency with the man who gave as much to him.
“He wasn't you.”
The apartment went deathly still, the hum of the air conditioning the only thing left to accompany the unsteady breaths echoing in his head.
“What does that mean, exactly?” David's voice was practiced, composed, and a dead giveaway for the lack of balance he was currently experiencing.
“He wasn't you.” Asher repeated, not letting himself indulge in the humiliating desire to meet his eyes. “He kept telling me things about himself, about his work, about his friends, about his life, and I just…I didn't care. I know how awful that sounds, and I felt how awful it was, but I checked out ten minutes in. All I could think about was coming home to you and forgetting that I had gone out in the first place.”
More quiet followed, and Asher had just mustered the courage to get up and go to his room when David spoke.
“It wouldn't work.”
And how pathetically telling it was that Asher elated at the idea that he wasn't dismissing his feelings outright, that a sensible explanation was at hand, even as something deep within his sternum began to wilt.
“I'm going to be the Alpha.” he continued. “After my dad. And you…you're going to be my Beta. I'm sure of it. And the politics of it…it just invites too many issues.”
He couldn't help the petulance that snaked its way into his tone. “That's why? Pack dynamics? That's bullshit, and you know it. It's not like a marriage, not the way most people think of it as, anyway. Plenty of Alphas and Betas are mates, David–”
At the word ‘mates,’ David flinched, sending a lance of something cold and bitterly sharp through his fingertips.
“It wouldn't work.” David repeated, before he added on, at a devastatingly diminished volume, “For me.”
A lifetime of carefully constructed scaffolding came crashing down in a barreling heap, a dam bound with nothing but the wisps of a faraway want crumbling to splinters and ruin.
It wasn't like Asher had expected a fairytale ending. Nothing of the sort. But it didn't have to be so abruptly finite, the candle snuffing itself out from both ends the instant the wick caught. His lungs were turning rotten, pulpy ephemera catching in his bronchial tubes and urging him to act.
“Can we act like it would?” he whispered. “Like it would work? Just for a moment?”
“Asher.” David rumbled, his eyes soft and tender. “That's not a good idea.”
“I don't care.” Asher bit back, fully aware of how his tone began to border on the pitiful holler of a struck dog. “It wasn't a good idea to tell you in the first place. I want to act like it would work. Please.”
David's face took on a brief but powerful conflict, his expression clouding over with a stormy internal reckoning before he sighed, long and ragged.
“Come here.” he rasped, and Asher scrambled to his feet and over to his best friend. David's hands, so large and capable, gently guided him to straddle his lap, the contact eliciting a shaky exhale from both of their chests.
The first brush of their lips was hesitant, lacking commitment, giving both parties ample time to retreat, to escape.
Neither took the grace period.
The next impact was a collision of flesh and heat, stubble rasping over skin and the flow of oxygen halting in service of something better. Asher's hands fluttered up to David's chest, curling into the fabric of his shirt and pulling him closer, closer, closer.
Something feral and righteous burned at the points of his canines and the hinges of his jaw, indignant and fierce. It was so unfair, so lacking in justice, to be kept apart by something so simple and yet ao destructive as power.
The absence of understanding threatened to rend him from the inside out, his innards curdling with a base, primal strain of anguished rage. Why couldn't it work? Why shouldn't it work? The sense of rightness that coursed through his veins nearly brought tears to his eyes.
He remembered, of all things in this moment, being a child, making friends with all manner of kith and kin. Spending nights on floors and every so often, spending a bleary-eyed Sunday morning in a rock-hard pew, listening to a man in an overstarched shirt drone about edicts and dire warnings he couldn't care less about.
But one thing that always stuck was the story of creation. How one was taken from the rib of another, destined to be at their side for all eternity, for the eternal machine to chug on the pumps of two pistons. As he got older, he had scoffed at the idea, casting it aside as demeaning and derogatory. Everyone was their own person, plain and simple.
But when David's palms swept a branding trail from his shoulders to his waist, his body hummed with a contentment as yet unheard of. Blunt fingers crosshatched with callouses slotted perfectly into a skeletal framework that practically whined with their own intrinsic craving, embedded to the marrow.
He panted into David's mouth, an electric thrill arcing up his spine at the resulting groan that poured onto his tongue. He could feel his phone digging into his thigh through his pocket, his shirt's tag scratching along the nape of his neck, and the fuzzed tang of coffee-tinged aftertaste on his cheeks. But he didn't care. Life could make a worthless martyr out of him, his trials consisted of the most inconsequential annoyances, and he would triumph with a ferocity unmatched.
Anything for this to go on endlessly. His pyre would be the discomfiture of pleasure, the inconvenience of hedony.
David's teeth nipped at his lower lip, soothing the sting with the flat of his tongue, sucking at the inflamed tissue until it throbbed in the best possible way. His fingers dug in ever tighter, and Asher sent up a desperate plea to anything with ears to hear that he would wake up to his best friend's handprints seared onto his skin.
Minutes, or hours, or perhaps days passed, neither one quite ready to end the bubble of bliss so fretfully erected, both sensing their impending arrival to the other side of heaven.
But they did it anyway. They broke apart, staring at each other, saying words that had no need of voice. They got off the couch. They went to their rooms. They laid on their beds and stared at their ceilings, wondering when the ache would dim.
i don't even know what to say dude you got it. you got it to a TEE this is THEM and it KILLS ME OH MY GODDDDDD david’s immediate insistence about “it” not working and how they don’t need to define what they’re talking abt cause they both know each other too well, asher grasping at straws and literally saying he wants to just act like it could because at this point any semblance of that kind of relationship with david would be enough
THEN THE STORY OF CREATION? all of your prose in that section is like a shot directly into my heart someone please save me from the unfathomable devotion asher has for david bro the angst is so good
i yearn for these two almost as much as they yearn for each other. jacketthief you are a VISIONARY
My mutuals, no pressure! (Hope it doesn't matter if some of them aren't in the fandom): @cas-fandoms @indigonightmar3 @florasomnia @urnewroomie @102booksfan @naokikui37 @pseudomutuality @maxismeyhem @kijumizstudios @jeli-in-tea @elvishdemigod @ruubric @wontyourecognizeme
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@usermovies 5 DAYS OF HORROR — DAY ONE: PSYCHOLOGICAL HORROR
What if I was someone else? Someone beautiful and powerful? Buried alive and suffocating to death on the other side of a television screen?
I SAW THE TV GLOW (2024) dir. Jane Schoenbrun
prguitarman
origamiaround
snowghoul
vaporwave
blakekathryn
stormborns
izzy806
