#I think it's fun to write

[hyperfixation-tangentopia]

Hehe more Chikao and Peng shenanigans - buuuut this time I might end up doing a Part 2 lol. Whoops.

This also ended up longer on its own than I meant for it to be lol. Whoopsies.

I love them. They're so annoying <3

Anyway not much to say soo enjoy

 How Peng had landed up the designated babysitter for Chikao's “solo” missions, they had no idea.

   Well.  Technically, they were her “mission partner” or whatever.

   But as Peng watched Chikao struggle to climb a wall and completely forget she had powers, Peng felt like babysitter was appropriate.

   “Peeeeeeeeng!” Chikao complained as she glared up at the smooth white walls that blocked her path to the curved roof.

   Peng sighed and rubbed the bridge of their beak as they stamped down irritation. ”What is it now?“ They sighed.

   Chikao grinned with her teeth at them.  ”How do you get over this?“

   Peng rolled their eyes and walked up to the wall with an exasperated sigh. ”Short.“ They commented.  They pretended not to notice the glare Chikao shot their way.  With a golden flash, they unfurled their metal wings, scratched and scraped up by the several recent fights.  They jumped and flapped their wings to land on the roof and dug their talons into the golden rooftop, then turned and looked down at Chikao, who watched them with narrowed eyes.

   ”Okay, but how do I get up there?  I don't have mystical metal wing - oh.“ Chikao's mini glare dropped into realization. 

   ”You forgot about your powers again?“ Peng raised an eyebrow.  They didn't have time for this.  They were already spending way too long here.

   ”Yeah.“ Chikao chuckled.  Peng's feathers ruffled with the wind as Chikao gathered wind and blew herself onto the top of the roof, then grinned at Peng.  Peng rolled their eyes again and turned to look out across the realm.  The golden rooftops shone in the eternal sunlight of the Celestial Realm, pristine and untouched except for where Peng and Chikao stood.  The marble pathways were smooth and pristine, bordered with gold engraved with delicately crafted carvings.  ”What are we here for again?“

   Peng looked at her.  ”You must be joking.“ They said.  Chikao grinned at them in a way that really didn't say either way.  Peng rolled their eyes again and shook their head as they pressed their face into their hand.  ”We're never going to survive this.“ They muttered.

   “What?” Chikao asked.  When Peng looked up, she was hanging off of the rooftop edge and holding onto it with her *feet*, her shoes abandoned at the flat surface on top.

   ”What are you doing?“ Peng hissed as they quickly grabbed the back of Chikao's ”armor“ (honestly, Peng wasn't sure if it even counted as armor) and hauled her back onto the roof.

   ”What?  I was getting a closer look.” Chikao grinned at Peng.

   Peng sighed and scanned the Celestial Realm.  ”We're here for Nezha's spear.“

   ”Oh!  I know where it is!“ Chikao grinned.

   Peng's wings slowly lowered and they let out a deep sigh.  ”And...why, do you know that, Chikao?“ Peng slowly turned their gaze from the shining Celestial Realm to the monkey behind them.

   Chikao blinked at them for a moment, then grinned.  ”This way!“ She declared as she leaped off of the roof to the curved surface of another one, somehow without sliding off.  Peng grumbled and resisted the urge to shout after her.  They didn't need to draw any attention.  They reluctantly grabbed the shoes Chikao had left on the roof and flapped their wings a couple times, then took off after her, careful to fly low to the rooftops and avoid catching the attention of any guards.

   Eventually, Chikao stopped on the edge of a rooftop.  Peng hovered over her and dropped her shoes on her head, then landed beside her and withdrew their wings with a flash.

   ”Hey.“ Chikao grumbled as she shoved her shoes back on.  She pointed to a home marked with three lotuses on the top.  ”Nezha's!“ She grinned.

   Peng sighed.  ”Alright.“ They crouched at the edge of the rooftop and narrowed their eyes.  They scanned the white-and-gold building for any sign of windows or easy entry.  The Celestial Realm must've been allergic to windows or something, though, because not a single building seemed to have windows on them, and Nezha's home was no exception. 

   Before Peng could open their mouth to start outlining, oh, you know, a *plan*, strawberry fur flashed out of the corner of their eye as Chikao jumped down from the roof and into the broad sunlight of the pathway.

   ”Chikao!“ Peng hissed quietly.  Whether Chikao ignored them or couldn't hear them they didn't know, but she continued walking.  She walked right up the stairs, to the front door, and knocked.

   She.  KNOCKED?

   After a long moment (and a couple more enthusiastically rhythmic knocks), the door opened.  Peng couldn't hear anything, but Nezha's expression quickly went from cautious confusion to complete shock, which then shifted into irritation and frustration as he gritted his teeth.  Whatever Nezha was saying, it was obvious he was frustrated with Chikao.

   And for once in Peng's life, they could relate.

   After a moment of conversation Peng couldn't hear, Chikao suddenly raced off with Nezha right behind her.  The door was left wide open.

   Peng sighed and shook their head as they quietly glided off the roof and up to Nezha's doorway.  If nothing else, the little monkey made for a good distraction.

    Peng peered inside to find Nezha's home was nothing like the extravagant towering homes with images created with glistening jewels ingrained in the walls that they'd imagined.

   Nezha's home made Peng wonder if Nezha did anything besides work.

   Maps and to-do lists were strewn on the walls with every inch of desk and tablespace covered in papers.  Some papers were blank or only had a couple ink splotches on them, while others had long paragraphs of words written in fancy letters.  A half-finished ham-and-cheese sandwich lied on the coffee table, and a weapon stand sat against one of the empty walls.  To Nezha's credit, for the mess that was his home, the papers were all organized into their own stacks and generally neat.  Peng shuddered slightly.  So much paperwork.  Invitations to meetings, sign-offs, they couldn't imagine living such a restricted and orderly life, let alone defending that.  They shook their head and stepped inside, and carefully and quietly closed the door behind them.  The flooring and walls were cool and smooth, painted creamy pink and only decorated with a single lotus carpet just within the doorway, and a couple of photos on the wall.  One was of Nezha and Iron Fan presumably in training, where Nezha had the biggest and most genuine smile Peng had ever seen from the prince.  The second was a portrait of Nezha, tired and frowning.  Closer to the Nezha Peng had fought.

   Peng sighed and shook their head.  ”This place is going to give me sensory deprivation.“ They muttered as they stepped past the living room and checked the rooms of the hallway.  They located his bedroom at the end of the hall and stepped inside to see their target on the other side of the bed, which was cloaked in a large lotus blanket that draped off of the sides.

   Peng rolled their eyes as they slipped past and grabbed the cool metal of the golden-headed spear.  ”Does he have anything that's not a lotus?“ They muttered as they swiftly and carefully made their way out of Nezha's home.

   When Peng turned away from the door and looked to the sky, they could only hope the streaks of pink and gold flashing across the sky like lightning was because the Celestial Realm had colorful storms. 

   Peng sighed as they gritted their teeth in annoyance.  ”Alright, little monkey, what did you do?“

[geezmarty]

(bellara/taash) nerd/jocks lovers rise up

[daisywords]

One of my biggest nitpicks in fiction concerns the feeding of babies. Mothers dying during/shortly after childbirth or the baby being separated form the mother shortly after birth is pretty common in fiction. It is/was also common enough in real life, which is why I think a lot of writers/readers don't think too hard about this. however. Historically, the only reason the vast majority of babies survived being separated from their mother was because there was at least one other woman around to breastfeed them. Before modern formula, yes, people did use other substitutes, but they were rarely, if ever, nutritionally sufficient.

Newborns can't eat adult food. They can't really survive on animal milk. If your story takes place in a world before/without formula, a baby separated from its mother is going to either be nursed by someone else, or starve.

It doesn't have to be a huge plot point, but idk at least don't explicitly describe the situation as excluding the possibility of a wetnurse. "The father or the great grandmother or the neighbor man or the older sibling took and raised the baby completely alone in a cave for a year." Nope. That baby is dead I'm sorry. "The baby was kidnapped shortly after birth by a wizard and hidden away in a secret tower" um quick question was the wizard lactating? "The mother refused to see or touch her child after birth so the baby was left to the care of the ailing grandfather" the grandfather who made the necessary arrangements with women in the neighborhood, right? right? OR THAT GREAT OFFENDER "A newborn baby was left on the doorstep and they brought it in and took care of it no issues" What Are You Going to Feed That Baby. Hello?

Like. It's not impossible, but arrangements are going to have to be made. There are some logistics.

[anna-scribbles]

old doodles from the archives 🫶

[all-my-ocs-are-evil]

[insert poetic title here]

fun fact: this did not start out as isat fanart

(rambling in tags)

[rookanisstuff]

“I wanna take you in the kitchen. Lift up your wedding dress someone was probably murdered in.”

[umblrspectrum]

i love learning cursive just to write text for exactly one character

[lgbtlunaverse]

Nothing will dispell the "the curtains were just blue" myth faster than writing something yourself, because the amount of pretentious symbolism i am putting in my silly little fanfics is ridiculous. I mean SO much with these words, literally every single one of them. This fic has twenty five typos and zero correct uses of punctuation but if there's curtains you bet your ass I put thought into what colour they were.

[beyourghost]

and obviously you find yourself thinking oh i do wish i could get severed to do this one thing. would you actually maybe not. but you do wish you didn't have to undergo medical procedures you do wish you didn't have to do the things that give you anxiety you do wish you didn't have to do tedious tasks that barely even require you to be present for them. it's tempting. that's why the premise works. but the premise is also that somebody has to do it. somebody has to go to the dentist and somebody has to get on that plane and somebody has to write those thank you notes. just like somebody has to clean the house and somebody has to harvest the food you eat and somebody has to make the clothes you wear. you can't eliminate inconvenience you can only delegate it. you can't eliminate suffering you can only delegate it. and always the easiest way to live with this is to see that somebody as less than. less than you less than people. and if that somebody has to wear your body to do it well maybe it's not all that different. they're not a person. you are. it's capitalism all the way down baby

[zan0tix]

ALPHA KIDS: Draw your best friends!

DIRK: I'd say I'm better at one on one character interaction work of the more intimate variety, but I think this piece came together nicely. DIRK: Fun for the whole family style wholesomeness, any motherfucker in the radius of a screen displaying this image will instantly get hit with a sore case of heartburn and their tear ducts will clock in overtime at the weeping factory.

ROXY: im so proud of these i think these are my best designs yet :3 but omg dirk callie and jake were SOOO peculiar about their damn designs over my shoulder. jake wanted me to clarify that even in pink pen form his little guy is BLUE. so there. sigh this is the one occasion they could take notes from janey.. JUST LET LE ARTIST WORK!

JANE: Boy! I don't draw often but I always was fond of calligraphy growing up. I was kind of inspired by all of the other's works, but especially Calliope's swirls she puts in her art. It's very fun to add!

JAKE: Im not quite the best with posing, but i find the head very fun to study! Especially skulls.. so good ole calliope makes for the perfect muse! (hehe)

CALLIOPE: i realized i hadn't ever made a piece with Us in the same place at once. u_u CALLIOPE: bUt since it's reality now here's all of Us together, United at last! ^u^

==->

[demonic0angel]

Court Story Idea

TW: the Joker

Where the Joker is being prosecuted for his crimes within the Ghost Zone and each side (defendant and plaintiff) is able to choose the lawyer for the other side. So that means that the Joker is able to choose an attorney for the plaintiffs AKA Jason, along with other victims, both alive and dead. (For drama’s sake, let’s say that the Justice League is there too, along with the younger generation of heroes.)

When everyone hears this, they’re like ??? Because isn’t that just going to help the Joker??

And the Joker, realizing this, is looking for the most weakest, most vulnerable person to exploit within this ghostly court room and he looks at the back of the room…

And finds Jazz, who’s sitting in a corner behind King Phantom, head down, trying her best to be unnoticed, nose in her papers as she’s writing down what’s said as the court reporter.

And the Joker picks her.

Nobody understands why everyone from the Ghost Zone is suddenly either 1) flabbergasted, 2) completely delighted, or 3) laughing so hard that it’s like they’re about to die a 2nd time.

Because the Joker chose the only person in the room with an actual law degree who is not only the big sister of the literal Ghost King, but also loves children, is fiercely protective of them, and most importantly, has never gotten the opportunity to show off her hard earned degrees in criminology, psychiatry, or law until now.

(Inspired by this post where someone says that Jazz would be the court reporter)

[inkskinned]

we were sitting on the floor and i was cutting out tiny pictures to make a collage for a friend's birthday. you were on your phone and you laughed about something, and i was still in love with you then, so i asked what had you giggling.

"sorry. i was just..." you took a moment and went back to texting. "i was telling someone about how you're afraid of the dark."

i'm afraid of the dark because something bad happened. "oh." i felt a little slinky of shame crawl down my throat.

you glanced up, and maybe it showed on my face, because you rolled your eyes and held the phone to the side casually so i could see the group chat. "what? was it a secret?"

i looked down to the scissors in my hand. "i just..." no, it's not a secret. it just felt like something private, something serious. saying why would you tell someone that just feels like an accusation. it's unfair. i honestly am not even ashamed of it, it's just a fact about my person that i don't usually share.

what a strange experience. is this a human thing or a generational thing? for our grandparents: did they need to worry about how quickly someone can just... share your personal information? again, i didn't even really have a true objection. what could i say? i want any person in my life to feel they can be honest with their friends. it's not like i said don't tell anyone this.

i cut out another letter to complete the rainbow happy birthday, started hunting for the exclamation mark. i heard you sigh dramatically.

"don't make a big deal about this," you said.

this entire conversation was a pattern for us, and this was when we got to my least favorite part of the pattern. i would get my feelings hurt in some oblique not-technically-terrible way, and then it would be making a big deal about something. you'd get frustrated for me for being soft, but i was born soft. you knew i was soft when you pierced me. it's one of the things that made controlling me so easy.

"i'm not," i felt my voice crack. the question came without my wanting. "why are you guys talking about me?" and why are you saying that thing? why not like - i'm telling them how you're generous and kind and pretty.

you let out this low, tragic groan. "oh my god." you tossed the phone away from your body. "there, see? i just won't talk to them if you don't like it."

the rest of the hour went the way it always went, between us: i said i don't actually mind if you talk to your friends but -, you found a way to call my minor expression of discomfort "being dramatic." you got upset that i had been offended. i ended up apologizing, even though i hadn't actually done anything.

afterwards, you picked up the phone again. after texting for a little bit, you snorted. "okay," you said, "but it is kind of funny you're afraid of the dark. i mean, when you think about it."

[idiotsonlyevent]

i wonder where the idea of chilchuck being a deadbeat came from when theres like. no textual evidence for it ?

he knows what all of them are up to; he still writes to flertom and she sent him his neckwarmer, so that to me implies that they at least have a somewhat positive relationship?

its more ambiguous with meijack and puckpatti, but since meijack is also a picklock, i wouldn't be surprised if he taught her himself, considering how trades are often passed down through families, and because he talks about sending people to her if he dies.

also the way he talks about puckpatti is very like... it's obvious he wants her to take things more seriously, but he's accepting, and his tone here reads more fond to me than anything else.

like, he keeps his daughters' old toys under his desk? that doesn't scream 'deadbeat' at all, it screams 'empty nester' who doesn't know how to reach out or is scared to do so

EDIT: i know a lot of the 'deadbeat dad' stuff is jokes, but some people are Not joking and genuinely think chilchuck is a bad dad. this post is not saying that you cant joke about it; it is just outlining what canon shows regarding his (clearly positive) relationship with his kids.

[tourettesdog]

I am begging people to be normal about completed fics, and in particular one shots.

I am begging people to stop demanding more from authors, and insisting that one shots need to be longer or have sequels.

I don't think yall understand how many fanfic authors are one more "where's the rest of it?" comment away from throwing out any plans they might have had to continue an idea.

Unless an author like specifically says they might write more for an idea, just-- assume something marked as completed is complete, and respect it as it stands, please.

[lucabyte]

monologue

[foldingfittedsheets]

Before my beloved and I moved in together they were living with roommates in a place that didn't have a bathtub. Now, a reasonable person might conclude from this that baths would be out of the equation in a home with only one standing shower and no tub.

But these people weren't quitters. Naturopathic doctors and acupuncturists they were dedicated to treating their bodies well and one of the ways they liked to do that was hydrotherapy. Most people are familiar with this through things like polar bear plunges. You sit in a hot tub then jump in freezing water.

It's supposedly good for you and they were way into it. But again, no tub. They'd do hydro showers but it just wasn't the same. These people were not quitters, though. (One of them is the boob soap person, so it really isn't a surprise that she goes hard on everything). So they got what looked like two big metal old timey tubs but which were actually animal food troughs and set them up in the garage. They set up a water heater and god knows how they emptied the tub after, I think there was hoses involved? A pump maybe? I honestly can't remember. Anyway! Voila, hydrotherapy on demand.

I was not aware of this. So when I came over after a long day and my beloved said we should take a bath I was extremely puzzled. I only knew about the one shower. They showed me the garage tubs. I did want a bath and I wasn't really sure about the setup, but honestly I'll try anything once if only for the story, so I agreed.

Fun fact about me though. I haaaate being cold. I've been 0% body fat most of my life with skin barely keeping my bones enclosed. I'm always cold. My favorite activity at the time was sitting directly in front of space heaters. My shower temperatures turn me lobster red and make my beloved cringe. Willingly dunking myself into cold water is the antipathy of my entire deal.

On the night in question I happily submerged into the warm tank, pleasantly surprised by the big silly improvised tub. Which again was meant for livestock. My knees bumped companionably against my beloved as we soaked in the hot water. After a while they rose to go into the cold water. "You don't have to," they told me.

But I was haunted. I wouldn't be doing hydro if I just stayed in the warm tub. Maybe hydro was amazing. It has all these health benefits. I desperately didn't want to but I stood up with them. We were having this nice intimate evening in the garage, just us, I felt safe. I was gonna do it.

They stepped easily into the cold tub, dunking matter of factly into the frigid water. I went to step. I did. I really really tried. My foot went in and I started shrieking, my progress arrested by the total state of shock I entered when my warm toasty foot hit that smug arctic water tension. My beloved started laughing as my pitch ascended the deeper my foot went into the cold water.

I started loudly narrating my discomfort as my foot touched the bottom and I willed my other foot up to join it. "THIS IS VERY COLD," I yelled, "IT'S SO COLD I THINK I MIGHT DIE HOW ARE YOU JUST CASUALLY SITTING IN THIS FREEZING COLD WATER?! I'M DYING- I THINK I'M DYING! I'M DYING BUT WE'RE HERE, TOGETHER! I CAN DO THIS! I CAN DO THESE EVEN THOUGH IT'S SO COLD ALL MY MOLECULES HAVE COMPRESSED INTO A SOLID STATE!"

I ended up with both feet planted in the cold tub, water up to my shins, bellowing and panting while my beloved laughed so hard they couldn't breathe. I hunkered over the cold water, squatting like a frozen gargoyle.

My beloved was trying to psyche me up while I willed my body to obey me. In a sudden jerky drop like a puppet whose strings have been cut I plummeted my body into the cold and let out a shriek that I’m sure could have shattered glass and then leapt up out of the water at a speed relative to a rocket achieving space flight. I didn’t like it.

When we got back inside my beloved's roommates were collapsed on the ground with tears in the their eyes from how hard they'd been laughing. They and probably every neighbor down the block had heard my pterodactyl screeching and narration because the garage was not remotely soundproof.