#hiding things

[i-write-whump]

A whumpee being halfway through recovery, and doing well enough to come across as healthy to someone who didn’t know that they were injured, deciding to do something strenuous with their teammates without telling them they were recovering from something. The whumpee eventually pushing too far during this, and their teammates having to look after them, and eventually getting the whumpee to explain that they were still recovering from something. The rest of the team immediately forcing the whumpee to take the proper time to recover, and swearing to themselves to keep an eye on the whumpee in future so nothing like this ever happens again.

[teine-mallaichte]

Hidden/secret prompts

1. If they found out the truth, they'd never look at me the same way again.

2. I have to keep this secret, no matter what.

3. You can't tell anyone. Promise me.

4. Why are you asking so many questions? Just let it go.

5. I'm not who you think I am.

6. Sometimes I forget what the real me is like.

7. The real me disappeared a long time ago.

8. If you knew what I've done, you wouldn't be standing here right now.

9. I've been running from my past for so long, it's starting to catch up with me.

10. Every time I look in the mirror, I see a stranger.

11. The fear of being discovered haunts me every day.

12. I've sacrificed everything to keep this hidden.

13. No one can ever know the real me.

14. The truth would shatter the world I've built.

15. The fear and relief of someone knowing.

16. Secret messages/codes.

17. The lies I've told are starting to unravel.

18. If you knew everything, you’d never trust me again.

19. If I told you everything, you’d be disgusted.

20. It's easier to lie than to face the truth.

[marypsue]

One of the worst feelings in the world: when you are just desperate, like claw-your-own-skin-off desperate, to create, but the only thing that even vaguely appeals to you to work on is a nebulous half-feeling that might be dreamily related to some half-formed notion of a concept. I must! Make! No thing! Only make!

[saurotitan]

The 2024 Easter Special

I’ve written an Easter special before, and if you’re in the market for a more traditional holiday special feel free to go read that one. Last year’s special did such a good job encapsulating the wide variety of ways Easter is celebrated that I had doubts about writing a special this year. One of my biggest fears while writing (aside from the obvious fear that none of this is actually any good) is…

[chiangyorange]

the chain but on a scale of who says hooray yippee and wahoo

is this anything.

[inkskinned]

you know, you know. no gods, no masters, no kings on pedestals. everyone is fallible. death of the author. you know! you are balanced about your intake of media - you allow the wiggle room, the grace, the gratitude, the skepticism. nobody above criticism.

but still. a weird gut-punch feeling, something akin to betrayal. you read the article. surprise! an author you love is actually: a serial fucking predator.

well, shit. what now. no, you knew he was a person (all people are), but now you're wondering - what have i overlooked by accident? what messages have i internalized that are strange and cruel? and also, like, what the fuck?

his actions lay a thick glaze on top of everything. like each place is now ruined, opaque in a new way. but okay, fine, you've done this before. you knew better, right? you've been betrayed by many a cherished childhood author.

still, this stickiness. fuck. can you pick up that book again. will you read it to your children. you've recommended it to others - will you ever do that again? and of course, of course, no parasocial relationships. you were theoretically above this kind of sentiment. but the artist informs the art, right.

so it's not something as clear-cut as feeling he owed you, specifically (a stranger) better behavior - just that you kind of, in a distant and odd way... sort of trusted him to do better. it's not like a real trust or something speakable, just the faint hope that the product (good books) was a thin representation of the soul. now it feels like the product (good? books?) was a mask. in some small or insignificant way, your previous support of this person lent them power. your money and your time and your laughter.

and the thing is - you have this terrible, echoing sensation. how many times will this happen? over and over. you find out that the singer you love is actually a predator. you learn over drinks that your favorite high school english teacher is in jail for what he did to her. you listen to the news idly and suddenly discover that a woman you used to idolize has been abusing her kids for an actual eon.

what can you touch without the static melting off. you can't even really complain about it too much (you were supposed to know better, and besides, you don't want the same re-split "it's not your fault, love what you love" basic advice), but now it's here. somehow, it feels like - you let him into your life.

it's not that things need to be pure or an artist has to be like, endlessly perfect, mindful. demure. it's more just this terrible truth that has been replayed through your veins so often it feels criminally vain. power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. did you want any one person to be worth that power?

it's just that he wrote books where he seemed to understand that. he seemed to know about hierarchies and unfair systems and bigotry and privilege. you thought they were books about what it means to struggle. you thought they were about having power and still using it for good rather than for control. he spooned you a narrative of being a good guy, a kind soul. you fucking bought what that fucking monster sold.

maybe that's why they were fantasies, after all.

[feelingtheaster99]

It is completely in character for Percy to say he has some dumb questions, then ask incredibly valid questions that no one has brought up till now

[qoldenskies]

i think its so funny when people take the way donnie acts at face value even though its a horrible lie because he's a horrible liar, while understanding leo is bullshitting very well despite him actually being GOOD at bullshitting. many such cases

[akanemnon]

So THAT'S how they did it! I'm sure that will have no major implications at AAAAALLLLLL...

FIRST - PREVIOUS - NEXT

MASTERPOST (for the full series / FAQ / reference sheets)

[humblegoat]

every once in a while i think back to college and the time my animation professor used moses from prince of egypt as an example of “unappealing character design” and each time i remember this i’m closer to branding it an internalized racism thing

[willosword]

Fake, facsimile, forgery.

[barghest-land]

drawings from paleo expedition to dagestan, done right on the trip. sometimes messy when it was cold and rainy, but i won't correct it. i think it's cool to leave it just the way it was done, and not retouch it after. there will be more drawings later, but those will be done from home

[toktopus-art]

happy halloween 👻 it's haunted house time again

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

I love the Leverage episodes where they're truly just psychologically tormenting a guy.

Like obviously they first establish that the guy is a terrible guy who does terrible guy things. And we really do need the terrible guy to be doing a lot of terrible guy things because this is kinda an ethical nightmare, but don't worry, they are reliably doing a lot of terrible guy things.

But then it is just like "hey, let's convince this guy that he's made first contact with aliens and also that aliens are trying to kill him" or "hey, let's make this guy believe he's contracted a deadly disease and is going to die in quarantine because medical staff are abandoning him" or "hey, let's first try to persuade this journalist that the government is secretly creating Guantanamo Bay 2: Underground Boogaloo in your backyards and when she doesn't run with that story, let's then make her think that oops the government accidentally leaked some kind of bioweapon into the waterways and now water is gonna kill you instead."

[kaidatheghostdragon]

Crack prompt: Danny has declared war on the curses in Gotham. He is armed with a water balloon gun, but the balloons are full of medical-grade ectoplasm. He targets any location, ghost, or liminal being tainted by curses and/or corrupted ecto - absolutely drenching them before yeeting off again.

This includes the Bats. Danny is smart about it, though. He lived in Gotham for several months before acting, so he could get the lay of the land. He also waits for patrol to be finished before hitting the Bats - he doesn't want to interrupt their Quest to Better Gotham (or be labeled an invader to their haunt).

One night, Danny happens upon Batman patrolling alone and waits for him to finish cleaning up a crime scene before hitting they guy with a half-clip of balloons. Batman gives chase, like he always does, and Danny runs, like he always does. He knows by now that, for whatever reason, Crime Alley is off limits to Batman. The whole alley just gives off "no (other) bats allowed" vibes.

Red hood is just more territorial. Whatever.

At any rate, Danny is enjoying the chase, using just enough ghost powers to stay ahead of batman, almost-but-not-quite taunting him. Crime Alley isn't too far, so instead of turning invisible around a corner like he usually does, he makes his way to the Alley to see if the no-trasspassing rule is enough to stop Batman mid-chase. He leaps across rooftops and weaves through fire escapes, ecto-balloon-gun bouncing by its strap against his back, until finally he's at the border, slightly tapping into flight to make the jump across a slightly wider road into the alley proper.

He turns around immediately, spotting Batman skulking on the rooftop on the other side of the road, stopping the chase and suit half-covered in healing ectoplasm.

"Sanctuary!" Danny yells, pumping his fists in the air from getting caught up in the exciting rush of adrenaline, "I claim sanctuary!"

"Who the fuck is claiming sanctuary in my territory?" Red Hood booms from almost directly behind Danny. He would have yeeted out of his own skin from surprise if he hadn't spent years honing his ghost-fighting instincts. As it was, Danny instead whirled around and emptied the clip of balloons into Hood, purely out of reflex.

Hood stood there, drenched in ecto like his fellow Bat one rooftop over, glaring murder at Danny with glowing eyes. But his haunt betrayed Hood's true emotions.

Surprise, concern, impressed, you-little-brat.

Danny booked it to the fire escape and turned invisible the second he was out of sight.

[hinamie]

can't believe im saying this but long time no megumi