#drawing and writing like a kid was fun

[siivekassii]

This is a little song that is supposed to help with memorising days of the week that can be translated as "Monday morning the emperor, his wife and the little prince visited me to shake my claw. But since I was away, the little prince said: "In this case, we're going to return on Tuesday"", and it is repeated until all the days are mentioned.

The combination of this song and Spy and Scout's story seemed cute and interessting to me so I did this

[egophiliac]

another one that I'm not super happy with, but continuing to mess with it isn't going to help! so here he is! 🦇 there was a lot I was trying to get across in this one, so uhhhhh hopefully it reads.

we're almost out of unique magics now...just Ace (and maybe Grim?) left!

[dandelion-roots]

[ID: a digital drawing of riz gukgak from fantasy high. in the front is a relatively small drawing of riz juggling books that are falling out of his hand and a phonecall, and he has a huge backpack on. he looks a bit overwhelmed, hair flying in all directions, and has a nervous smile on. in the background is a large shadow of riz, only one glowing eye and a shining gun visible. the background is red, giving an eerie feel. End ID]

Kill your best friend

Cheat your way to your rogue teacher

Announce your presidential campaign

Don't let them know how angry you are

LEARN TO RECOGNIZE A MONSTER

[waddles-ex-machina]

some more comic panels I liked :>

[chessb0r3d]

i cracked the code.

[himejoshiangels]

well aware that this is common knowledge but it'll always kill me that bruces grief will last forever. Batman is a concept, a character in a comic book and because of the nature of comic books lasting for like ever he's going to repeat the same plots and learn the same lessons over and over and over. Closure quite literally doesn't exist for Bruce Wayne because he'll be in that alley for eternity, he'll keep holding his kids in his arms as they die and failing to save people for eternity. Concepts are eternal, batman is eternal. His grief will last forever.

[yuseirra]

a family bigger than 4! part 5.

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / side story 1

I did mention Gorou has a really important role earlier, right? In this story, he's the one who's helped the two reconcile. Who else would deliver the child other than him? He's a good soul.

next..would probably be some wholesome slice-of-life things(finally getting to those ;v; haha)

[quirkle2]

[zombie au] the image is too big for tumblr i had to cut it in half GVEAUYGV (please for the love of god zoom in)

[playgroundeyes]

god what I love the most about danger days is the absolute freedom you have over the universe and characters

it feels so fluid and you don't even have to stick to a single headcanon, let alone the actual canon because. there isn't really any

[jubilantmedusa]

Untitled Zukka Hurt/Comfort Ficlet #1 (because practicing drawing means I need to write little mini fics I guess...)

“You’re sick.” Sokka’s voice was as calm as the surface of water on a still night. Not a hint of accusation or contempt. No softness, no sting. Only observation. Reflection.

Zuko took a breath, deep to sooth his limbs that were threatening to shake. “I’m fine.”

Sokka frowned, and Zuko felt a knot form instantly in his stomach. His shivered, vision swimming as he saw the flash of another frown, superimposed. A different frown. Harsh. Sharp.

Sokka’s movements were calm. Fluid. Gentle as he raised his hand to Zuko’s forehead and pressed with just the right amount of pressure. “You have a fever.” Zuko felt his heartbeat pick up as Sokka’s lip began to curl, but as his expression settled Zuko realized that Sokka wasn’t angry, just concerned.

Zuko breathed deeply, pinning his arms to his sides before the other boy could notice that he was shaking now. Only, he must not have been fast enough because Sokka dropped his hand from Zuko’s forehead to grab Zuko’s trembling fingers. 

“Your hands are freezing.” Sokka hand tightened around Zuko’s as he pulled it upwards, pressing it against his mouth. Zuko couldn’t stop his hands from shaking even harder as Sokka’s breath warmed his skin.

—

“I can do that.” Zuko reached to grab his sleeping bag. “I’m fine.” Sokka lifted it over his head like they were kids playing keep away. Zuko huffed, crossing his arms, but let Sokka keep it.

“You’re not fine.” Sokka spread of the blanket. “How long have you been feeling sick?”

“Ugg.” Sokka paused. He looked up, holding  Zuko’s gaze until Zuko finally drawled, two days? maybe three.”

“Three days?!” Zuko felt his pulse quickening again, his shoulders bracing. “Why didn’t you say anything!” Even though Sokka’s voice voice was high he didn’t sound angry. In fact… Sokka’s eyebrows were scrunched, lips pressed thin. “You were training Aang this morning. Zuko, you shouldn’t be bending like that if you’re sick “ Sokka was worried.

“I’m fine.” How many times had Zuko said that now? “It’s just a fever. It’ll go away.”

“I mean, sure it will, if you rest. Can you, uh…” He gestured towards the sleeping bag, laid out and waiting.

“Oh.” It felt awkward to lower himself down when his legs felt so much like jelly, Zuko was sure it wasn’t graceful. But Sokka didn’t say anything, just stood there, eyebrow raised. Waiting. Zuko realized, then, that he was supposed to lay all the way down. So he did, somehow feeling boneless now that he wasn’t holding himself up. 

He blinked as Sokka settled a blanket over to his shoulders. It took Zuko and absurd number of seconds to realize that it was a blue blanket, one of Sokka’s own. Woven. Thick. Soft.

“Comfortable?” Sokka asked. When Zuko met his eyes he smiled.

It was nice, seeing Sokka smile. Zuko wanted to smile back, but he… there was a quivering in his stomach. Not sickness, just… waiting. “I’m fine,” Zukp said. When Sokka raised an eyebrow, he added, “I… feel fine.”

“I doubt that,” Sokka said.

“I do,” Zuko insisted. Yes, his body felt suddenly heavy. And his skin buzzed strange sensitivity that made event he gentlest touch feel like a scratch. But he was lying on his side, on something soft, and he was warm. “I… thank you.”

Sokka shrugged. “I didn’t do much,” he said. “Do you need anything else?”

Zuko thought for a moment. “Water?” He croaked.

“Coming right up, bud.”

Zuko let his eyes close for a moment, just listening to the sound of Sokka’s footsteps as he went back to the packs, the rustling of fabric as he was digging through something. Then there was a feeling, something hard brushing his fingers. Zuko opened his eyes to see a small, green glass. “A Ba Sing Se souvenir cup?”

“It was on sale,” Sokka said, chuckling. “Drink it. It’s medicine.”

“For what?” Zuko asked.

“The fever?” Sokka reminded him. “Do they… umm… not treat fevers in the Fire Nation or something?”

“Of course they do.” Zuko propped himself up just enough to tip the bitter liquid into his mouth before settling down again.

More sounds of shuffling as Sokka lowered himself, and then Zuko felt weight on his back as Sokka pressed into him, a hand settling itself onto his arm. Sokka’s touch was firm, but quiet. Soft. Sweet. “But not yours?” Sokka sounded sad.

Zuko swallowed. He remembered that feeling, tossing and turning as his skin crawled and his stomach churned. Waking up with a sweat drenched face but father still expected Zuko to do his katas. Run through his katas, go to school, sit up straight. There was punishment for slouching, even if he only slouched because he was shivering so hard he couldn’t mind his posture. “We were being trained to rule, Azula and I. Countries don’t stop because you have a cold.”

Sokka didn’t say anything, just started rubbing his arm. 

“You can rest now,” Sokka said after a while. “I can take care of you.”

Take care of him? Zuko tried to remember the last time someone had taken care of him. His Uncle had tried, of course, but Zuko had always pushed him away. He couldn’t let himself be seen that way - weak, sick. So he ignored the quiver in his Uncle’s voice when Iroh spoke to him from the other side of a metal door. And before that… before that his mother would, when father would let her. When Zuko was so sick that she’d block his bed with her body to keep father away, even if it cost her. Then sit with him and fuss his hair back with slender fingers.

“I’ll take good care of you,” Sokka said.

Zuko took a deep breath in. Not a sigh, just a breath, one to fill him up. He could feel his heart starting to race again, but... nicer this time, with Sokka so warm and solid against his back. He let the breath out. Slow. Controlled. Eyes still closed, he whispered, “Okay.”

[kristea9ay]

One thing that I have realized is that I Am NOT a good writer XD

It's the main thing that has been keeping me stuck for a while (besides UNI). I have a very shaky skeleton of the story and how it's supposed to go, but I am not a good story teller and don't know how to make it work 🤡

So, I sat down and decided that it doesn't have to be perfect. I have my key points and scenes set in mind, but how the story is gonna get there will be a surprise for both you AND me XD

I realized that this is mainly to have fun and just share some silly stuff with the Fandom, so I am ditching my perfectionism and hoping this won't end up as one big cringe 🙏

[bonefall]

post/734733274896809984/do-you-ever-worry-your-own-writing-might-come-off that makes sense. i was asking because i'm afraid of accidentally writing misogyny myself and i kind of admire what you do

Hmm... I wish I had better advice to give you on this front, but honestly, the only thing I can tell you is to consider the perspective of your female characters.

Women are people. They have thoughts and feelings of their own, so like... just let them have their own arcs. A lot of the worst misogyny in WC comes from the way that the writers just don't care about their girls (or, in the case of tall shadow, actually get undermined and forced to rewrite entire chapters), so they're not curious about their lives, or WHY they feel the way they do or what they want, or any direction for their character arcs.

Turtle Tail as an example. She'll often just end up feeling whatever Gray Wing's plot demands. She's gotta leave when Storm dumps him to make him feel lonely. She shows up again to love him in the next book. Lets her best friend Bumble get dragged back to Tom the Wifebeater, but is sad enough about her death to be "unreasonably angry" with Clear Sky, and then calms down and accept Gray Wing is right all along.

And then she dies, so he can have his very own fridge wife.

In this way, Turtle Tail's just being used to tell Gray Wing's story. They're not interested in why she would turn on Bumble, or god forbid any lingering negative feelings for how she didn't help her, or even resentment towards Clear Sky for killing her or Gray Wing for jumping to his defense. She isn't really going through her own character arc.

She does have personality traits of her own, don't misunderstand my criticism, but as a character she revolves around Gray Wing.

So, zoom out every now and then, and just ask yourself; "Whose story is being told by what I wrote? Do my female characters have goals, wants, and agency, or are they just supporting men? How do their choices impact the narrative?"

But that's already kinda assuming that you already have characters like Turtle Tail who DO have personalities and potential of their own. Here's some super simple and practical advice that helped me;

Tally the genders in your cast. How many are boys, how many are girls, how many are others?

And take stock of how many of those characters are just in the supporting cast, and compare that to the amount you have in the main cast.

If you have a significant imbalance, ESPECIALLY in the main cast, fire the Woman Beam.

It's a really simple trick to just write a male character, and then change its gender while keeping it the same. I promise women are really not fundamentally different from men lmao. You can consider how your in-universe gender roles affect them later, if you'd like, but when you're just starting to wean yourself off a "boy bias" this trick works like a charm.

Also you're not allowed to change the body type of any girl you Woman Beam because I said so. PLEASE allow your girls to have muscles, or be fat, or be old, or have lots of scars. Do NOT do what a cowardly Triple A studio does, where the women all have the same cute or sexy face and curvy body while they're standing next to dwarves, robots, and a gorilla.

Or this shit,

If you do this I will GET you. If you're ever possessed by the dark urge, you will see my face appear in the clouds like Mufasa himself to guide you away from the path of evil.

Anyway, you get better at just making characters girls to begin with as time goes on and you practice it. It's really not as big of a deal as your brain might think it is.

Take a legitimate interest in female characters and try not to disproportionately hit them with parental/romance plots as opposed to the male cast, and you'll be fine. Don't think of them as "SPECIAL WOMEN CHARACTERS" just make a character and then let her be a girl, occasionally checking your tally and doing some critical thinking about their use in the story.

(Also remember I'm not a professional or anything, I'm just trying to give advice)

[4ddi3addie2005]

Where did u get that fit girl? Pinterest?

[clegfly]

“Of course you have an Other Brother,” he says, waving off her denial as he opens some nearby cabinets. “Who else would I be if I wasn’t?”

Small WIP sketch of the Other Brother from IDKSomethingClever99’s fic “Mari in the Pink Palace”!!! OMORI and Coraline are my two biggest interests ever so this fic was like winning the lottery for me. Not to mention how good it is… please go read it ragh

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Interesting. Don’t necessarily think I’m autistic but I have more going on than just ADHD and I’m not sure what that is.

[camels-pen]

Could you please write more of yourdanny phantom x jjba au? I really liked it!

glad you like it! and i'm pretty much always open for requests so here you go!

Ao3 link | previous fic

-

"GET- MMF" Danny struggled in the iron clad grip while claws dug into his face. At this rate he'd suffocate!

He tried to turn intangible, but his power didn't so much as flicker.

What was it that Polnareff guy said? Use his 'stand' to turn things intangible?

Danny flapped an arm out, in the vague direction of Fall Out Boy. Eventually, he hit something and the familiar feeling of his powers washed over him. His tormentor fell to the ground.

Danny bent over on his knees as he let go of his stand. "Finally, a breath of fresh air."

He heard a growl and his shoe started to feel wet.

"Oh- dude!" Danny shook out his foot. "Just because I wouldn't let you eat my hair?!"

Iggy laughed as he trotted off, hopping up on the table Polnareff was sitting at. Then he started munching on the plate of sandwiches that were meant for Danny.

"Y'know I've never met a dog I haven't liked before," Danny grumbled, pulling up a chair. "But I guess I'm having all kinds of new experiences this week."

Polnareff tapped his cigarette in the ashtray. "We've only known you a few days."

"Exactly."

"It's not so bad," Polnareff said. "You're not in any danger while you're learning; that's far better than most people have it."

"Look, Polnareff, I appreciate it and all but did you have to use Iggy to teach me?"

"He's a good motivator." Polnareff grinned. "And it keeps him entertained so he doesn't go after me."

"And the truth comes out." Iggy laughed his little dog laugh. Danny glared at him. "Oh, this doesn't get you off the hook; I know you're smart enough to know what you're doing. I've seen you steal Mr. Joestar's wallet when he isn't looking."

Iggy turned away. Polnareff took a drag of his cigarette, hand covering his mouth.

With the saddest, most apologetic puppy dog eyes, Iggy turned back with a whimper. His head was ducked low and his ears were downturned. A textbook picture of a sad little doggy.

Danny held strong. He would not be swayed. He knew exactly what was going on here and-

"Ugh, I can't stay mad at your adorable widdle face." Danny held Iggy's face. He scratched behind one of Iggy's ears- the same spot Cujo always liked- and the dog pressed into his hand. "Oh, who's a terrible little mischief maker? You! Yes you are, you little-BWUH?!"

Suddenly, Danny was sitting in a mountain of sand, trying in vain to dig his way out before remembering Fall Out Boy. He had his stand pull him out and the sound of Polnareff practically pissing himself with laughter greeted his valiant escape from a deadly betrayal.

Iggy barked at Polnareff and he waved his hand, gasping something about an agreement.

"I nearly-" Danny paused to hack and spit out all the sand in his mouth. "I nearly suffocated twice! In one day!"

Polnareff gave a teary-eyed apology. The tears were from laughter. "I told him if he could cover you in sand, I'd get him a steak. It was supposed to be practice for being ambushed." Polnareff wheezed, holding his stomach. "I didn't think he'd bury you!"

"Ha ha ha." Danny shook out his pant leg. "Keep laughing and I'll bury you in a mountain of sand. Maybe on the beach so the crabs can get you."

Polnareff did keep laughing, but not for long. A wave of sand washed over him, almost identical to the one still on Danny's seat. Silver Chariot appeared moments later, digging through the sand as Polnareff shouted muffled curses and threats to Iggy's person.

The dog wasn't listening though, hopping off the table and walking off who knows where. Danny stared after him.

Iggy's ear flicked. The same one Danny had scratched.

Danny smiled. He'd have to remember to nab a stick of coffee gum later in thanks.