#//i really like the idea of them being

[uncanny-tranny]

I think so many people are so deeply alienated from themselves that they have no clue how to exercise their free will and autonomy. For some, this alienation runs so deep that they are afraid of their own autonomy and humanity. It is completely understandable why one would have those feelings, but it can be worrisome.

I want to help others who feel this way, so here are small things I have done to exercise my free will:

Add "guilty pleasure" songs to playlists and actually listen to them (I have a ton of late 1990s-early 2000s music I listen to now proudly that I never listened to in the past out of shame)

Getting the décor item, bath set, bed spread, ect. in the patterns you like, even if it's "childish" (I got a dinosaur-themed wastebasket from the kids' décor section and I adore it)

Taking a new route to get to a place you go to often

Eat dessert first

Celebrate well, and often

Collect things that are "odd" or don't seem like an "acceptable" thing to collect (somebody on my "for you" page collects dandelion crayola crayons and it was so cool!!!!!!)

Incorporate one new piece in an outfit you wear frequently (e.g., a new chain, a necklace, ribbons, bracelets, ect.). Challenge yourself to add onto the outfits if you feel up for it.

Sing along to songs without worrying that you sound "good" or your intonation is completely accurate

Read a book from a genre you weren't allowed to read as a kid (comics, thrillers, mysteries, anything!)

Walk without having a specific destination or goal

Pick up a new craft without expecting yourself to master it or to ever be "good" enough. Get your hands messy.

I don't want to shame anybody for not feeling as though they have free will or that they are exempt from exercising it. However, I wanted to give ideas so that you might read this list and find your own ways to express your intrinsic autonomy and will. You deserve to be a person, to feel alive, not just living. That is what our lives are for.

[chloesimaginationthings]

Why did Charlie Emily say all that in fnaf UCN

[bet-on-me-13]

Sandwiches

So! Clark is a Kid, and he is making a sandwich, but the Ketchup he puts on it accidentally makes a Summoning Sigil.

He turns around to find a Glowing Eldritch Being floating behind him.

He stares at the Eldritch Beast.

The Eldritch Beast stares at him.

Clark wordlessly picks up 2 more slices of bread, makes a other sandwich, and offers it to Being.

It takes the Sandwich, looks at him, and smirks before saying, "Not bad." And disappearing.

The next day, Clark's parents told him that they were going to have an extremely bountiful Harvest that year, and that they would be able to pay off all of their remaining Debts, lifting all of the stress that he had seen them begin to accumulate over the years.

Later that week during the Party to celebrate their success, Clark sneaks away with a plate of Food, draws that same circle on his favorite Tree, and leaves the Plate of food alongside a note saying "Thanks!"

And thus was the start of an incredible, but rather strange, friendship.

(BTW I left the specific Ghost blank to play around with, cause maybe it wasn't Danny)

[helloilikepurple]

DC X DP - Mirrors

Did Danny want to live in Gotham? No, of course not. Did he have a choice? Nope. When does he ever?

Now, he may be technically homeless, but he's also technically dead, so human laws technically don't apply to him. So, naturally, he pics out an empty mansion so big even if the owners were to come home, the chances they'd run into each other would be really low, and settles in.

This 'mansion' happens to be Drake Manor. Look, Danny lived in nowhere Illinois and kinda had his hands full dealing with ghosts, a double life, bullies, and being actively hunted. He doesn’t know much about celebrities. If you tell him the name of someone super famous, it might sound vaguely familiar, but that's about it. What he knew was superheroes and vigilantes (some of them, okay, give him a break). That's about it.

So the name Drake in connection with Gotham didn't ring any alarm bells. He did some surface level research: the Drakes are dead, survived by their only child, Timothy Drake-Wayne, who now owns their house but was adopted by some other super rich guy called Bruce Wayne and doesn't live in it, leaving it empty for the foreseeable future.

It was the perfect place!

Danny didn't explore much, partly because he didn't care to and partly because he was too tired to from healing. He cleaned up after himself, used only his bedroom (chosen for being tucked way back and out of the way), the attached bathroom, and the theatre occasionally as a treat. He lived off of the provisions packed for him, ectoplasm and water from the sink.

Cut to, few weeks in.

Danny's got a new routine, he's taken his stitches out, and is still super fucked up, but a lot better than when he arrived. He hasn't been outside since he arrived, but ghosts don't need Vitamin D anyway. Is he slightly depressed? Maybe. But he's also dead, so, bigger priorities.

Tim is looking through his stuff for something or other, and it occurs to him he probably left it next door. He hasn't been to Drake Manor in months, but he sort of really needs this thing, so he sucks it up and borrows a car because like hell is he walking the several miles from this front door to that one.

He goes to his old bedroom, opens the door, and comes face-to-face with himself.

And Danny doesn't know what he's supposed to do in this situation.

Listen, Danny doesn't always make the best decision in the moment. It's a very normal flaw to have! So he tells who can only be Timothy Drake-Wayne himself when asked, that his name is Timothy Drake, and this is his house, and, actually, who are you and how did you get in?

This causes Tim to assume Danny is himself from another dimension who he accidentally dragged to his dimension by messing with the Time Stream to get Bruce back. Danny continues to accidently fuel this misunderstanding without meaning to.

(This is not helped by the fact that a DNA test doesn't disprove this. Danny's DNA is corrupted, but what Tim does get is identical to himself. This is how Danny finds out he was adopted, and how Tim, much later when misunderstandings are cleared, meets the identical twin brother he never knew he had.)

[blighted-lights]

ravage is #1 personal space stealer and heater, 10/10 would recommend having him as an amica. usually he'd be sleeping curled around soundwave's head but the other cassettes are out harassing starscream on patrol, so soundwave's chest is free real estate

anyways send me asks with ur soundwave and ravage hcs and mayhaps i'll draw them soon

[deecotan]

anyway here's wavewave

[art-is-kayos]

Checking up on his commission

[demigods-posts]

i have this headcanon that percy and annabeth are raging accidental flirts. but not with each other. like. they'll go to the coffee shop on fifteenth street. and compliment the barista on his hair and clothes and tip really well. but only for him. and they have no idea this boy is absolutely swooning over them. or. each time they to go the bakery downtown. they take the time to converse with the waitress at the counter as they eat her homemade muffins. and are incredibly vocal about how she's their favorite server. and how much they enjoy seeing her. and suddenly they're the only two customers that can get her services for free. except, they just think she's like that with everyone.

[doctorsiren]

paint it over

[welcometogrouchland]

ANOTHER SKETCH DUMP! Featuring more of me playing with lineless art. Batman reborn era trio (dick, damian and steph) I miss you...when will you return from war. Also featuring Steph designs bc I've seen ppl dissatisfied w/ her current look, some good mom Talia, and Jason Todd poetry club. Duke is confused not that Jason would start a poetry club but that he'd have such mid poetry opinions. (ID in Alt)

[old-desert]

Inktobertale 2024 Day 5: Camping

Cross doesn't know that the first law of the multiverse is that there's nowhere Ink can't be.

[fairsweetlonging]

( ˚❀˳ ) ERROR_FILE_CORRUPT || shen qingqiu (shen yuan) & yue qingyuan

* . ⊹ synopsis. shen qingqui has not been giving the system satisfactory results. it decides to take matters into its own hands. yue qingyuan tries to persuade it otherwise.

notes: @artsarasp this is all your fault

word count: 774

based on this post and this amazing art

The afternoon sunlight trickles ember and gold through the latticed window, soft and bright and warm as it fills the room. In the stillness between them, it feels distant, wavering, like still water disturbed somewhere below the surface where he cannot see.

Hazy steam curls from two teacups set on the low table, pale porcelain gleaming faintly against the dark grain of the wood. It’s an old blend, something light. A favorite. He doesn’t know why that matters. Maybe because this one has never been rejected. Maybe because he’s grasping for something that is no longer there.

On the other side, Shen Qingqiu sits unnervingly still, as if his body has forgotten how to breathe, how to live, his back straight but rigid, like a figure carved from stone rather than a man of flesh and blood. 

When he reaches for the tea, his fingers move with a strange, stilted motion, like a doll whose joints have rusted with disuse, or the rotten wood of a foundation that shakes the house with every gust of wind, about to collapse. As he leans forward, his robes don’t move along; not even a hair falls out of place. 

There is something profoundly wrong about him, as if he’s not even actually there. 

Yet it follows their rituals, to perfection, moving through the steps of their routine as if they were its own; slow sips, remaining silent as they drink, no idle talk, leaving the only sound to be the soft clack of porcelain on wood. 

Yue Qingyuan drinks faster than he would any other time, faster, even, than is proper. It burns the roof of his mouth. There is no need for formalities, not here, not for that thing. 

It is the same face, the same gentle slope of his nose, the curve of his mouth, the raven black hair that lies gracefully along his shoulders, but the eyes… Xiao Jiu’s eyes are blue, all of it, sickly, devoid of life; when he stares into that hollow nothingness, it is almost as if something is staring back at him. 

Yue Qingyuan puts down his cup. His voice is deceptively calm. 

"What do you want."

Something flares in Xiao Jiu’s eyes at the question, almost as if it’s been waiting for this.

When he answers it is not in words, but in a cacophony of metallic hollow sounds that reverberate through the back of his mind.

【 this system does not ‘want’ for anything. this system is tasked with helping user002 create a good story 】

It doesn’t even bother opening Xiao Jiu’s mouth as it speaks, keeping that same, placid smile on his face. Somewhere, Yue Qingyuan is glad for its lack of trying—it never seems able to match its movements to the words quite right.

【 your interference caused a plot-divergence too difficult for him to fix. so this system has taken over 】

It’s said that before, when they first caught on, back then, when they thought it was only a matter of time before they had driven the creature out. User. Plotlines. Story. Protagonist. He interfered with something, poked the sleeping bear where he should have let it lay. He doesn’t know when. He doesn’t even know what he did.

But Shen Qingqiu cannot be the only one, not with how the system speaks about him; the number two insinuates the existence of a user one, like how nine insinuates there is a seven. 

Yue Qingyuan isn’t sure he wants to know whether user two has come with user one, or after him.

Despite his diligent studies, his upbringing to become the future sect leader, Yue Qingyuan isn’t that well read, not in these kinds of stories, anyway—in stories with protagonists and heroes and villains, the kinds that have overarching themes and conflicts. 

But he knows that though audiences are fickle, they are also easily entertained. After all: the worst crime of a character is not his flaws, it’s being boring. He's heard Shang Qinghua speak of it often enough, how audiences care very little for the quality, but will sing the praises of any story that manages to keep their attention. 

Perhaps there is a different way to keep their invisible audience entertained.

"Does… does it have to be Xiao Jiu?" His fingers curl to fists beneath the cover of his wide sleeves, grasping the fabric until his knuckles turn white. Please. Please, just this once, let him do something right. "Could someone else create this story?"

The system blinks. 

【 someone like –yue qingyuan–? 】

He nods.

【 calculating… 】

Xiao Jiu shakes his head.

【 perhaps the next story… 】

[basslinegrave]

[canisalbus]

Building on the favourite animal ask, another Very Important Question: favourite PREHISTORIC animal? And why? (I've always loved gorgonopsids and pterosaurs like anurognathus, but a new favourite is aquilolamma the eagle shark. They're just very cute).

I feel like my top favorites are pretty pedestrian, but I like prehistoric deer a lot!

Megaloceros giganteus aka Irish elk

Sinomegaceros ordosianus & Sinomegaceros yabei

Eucladoceros dicranios

Cervalces scotti

[bacchuschucklefuck]

space sweepers but they're delivery people and are at no point on screen through the entire movie

[benevolenterrancy]

hi!! I think your art is *so cool* o(≧∇≦o)

do you think you could draw more moshang? either post canon or that au you did last time?? (baby mobei has my heart and all I own)

(˵ •̀ ᴗ •́ ˵ ) oh! how about return to childhood—moshang flavor?

don't question this king, shang qinghua, he knows what he's about