#i have no idea why i wrote this

[karlathewitch]

While working on my WIP story, I got stuck due to several problems with story settings, tone, etc. It got me stuck for several months, until now, as I realized

It is my story. I can do whatever the fck I want with it.

I don't have to use a regular story structure, I can write it as if it's an anime. 12 episodes per book.

I thought about a part what's mainly about my characters trying to hunt down a chimera, but they find out it is actually a cockatrice, and it's a big thing. Sounds weird, Mistborn's plot is better, BUT I'm not writing Mistborn. I'm writing my own stuff, so cockatrice confusion will be there.

And this applies to every aspiring author I think. Write crazy, write chaotic, write cliché, write it however you like, because you're the first reader of the book. It is for you to enjoy it.

[lika2]

In a hypothetical world where everyone only trusts each other as far as they can throw them

There is a correlation between small size and trustworthiness, and a correlation between large size and trusting others

In less fancy terms: smol peeps are considered trustworthy but don't trust others. Heavy ppl are considered suspicious but are very trusting

It is fashionable to look aerodynamic

Everything is designed to be lightweight and easy to throw

"You never trust anyone! You should pick up weight lifting!!" would be an actual thing people say

There are designated cushioned "throwing lanes" to be able to yeet shit and see how far it goes

Natural selection means we'd all be gnome sized

Products that break upon impact after getting yeeted 100 meters are considered faulty and can be returned

There are movements to shed light to the injustices tall/broad/large people face

Ceo's are all babies.

Elephants got hunted to extinction in the 1800's probably

Nobody trusts glue

[themosticonicseveredhead]

do you ever just wake up with a strange and compelling urge to rewrite page 82 of Homestuck in iambic pentameter?

no?

yeah, me neither...

[zhelin-thames]

Damian Wayne had always been the brooding, methodical type, raised by the League of Assassins and trained in every form of combat known to man. His family, though unconventional, was his anchor. But when the Justice League summoned the Ghost King, he wasn't expecting much more than another world-threatening force to deal with. What he didn't expect was Danny Phantom.

Danny—who, at the time, was still the Ghost King—was an enigma to Damian. The teenager appeared to be no older than Damian himself, yet the sheer power and timeless presence that emanated from Danny made Damian’s sharp mind wary. Danny wasn’t just powerful; he had a calm air about him, as if the weight of the universe meant little to him. There was a curiosity about the boy-turned-king that tugged at Damian, something he couldn't quite place.

Their first encounter wasn’t easy. The Justice League had summoned Danny to aid in a crisis—a situation so dire that the fate of the world hung in the balance. And yet, when Danny appeared, it wasn’t the expected godly being from legends, but a confused teen with an air of nonchalance. When Damian saw Danny's face, however, something shifted. He’d known many figures of power, but Danny was different. Despite his near god-like status, there was a youthful vulnerability to him, something that made Damian want to protect him, even though Danny didn’t appear to need it.

As the crisis passed and the League debriefed, Damian found himself slipping away from the group, his thoughts preoccupied by Danny. There was something about Danny’s presence that intrigued him—Danny's eyes held an ancient wisdom, yet his laughter was light, almost childlike. Damian wasn’t used to feeling this way, especially not toward someone who wasn’t part of his carefully structured life.

It was after a particularly tense confrontation with a new villain that they first truly spoke.

Damian had gotten himself into trouble while trying to protect Gotham, barely escaping an ambush. When he returned to the Batcave, nursing wounds that barely fazed him, he found Danny sitting on the edge of the Batcomputer, fiddling with a few of Bruce's gadgets. Damian had never seen anyone so casual in the Batcave, and it irked him at first. But when Danny looked up and smiled, something inside Damian softened.

"You're not worried about the League, are you?" Damian asked, his voice edged with skepticism.

Danny chuckled. "I’ve seen much worse than a few villains. You’re tougher than you look."

Damian frowned, but Danny’s easygoing nature had a strange way of pulling him in. “You’ve been through a lot, haven't you?” Damian murmured, unable to mask the genuine curiosity he felt.

Danny’s smile faltered for a moment, and his gaze became distant, as if the memories of his past as the Ghost King weighed on him more than he let on. He nodded slowly. “More than I’d care to remember. But... it’s in the past now.”

There was a quiet understanding between them, a silent acknowledgment that neither of them had had the easiest childhoods. As time passed, they found themselves talking more often, and the bond between them deepened.

Damian was drawn to Danny's resilience, his ability to remain calm under pressure, and his underlying vulnerability that no one else seemed to see. Danny, on the other hand, found solace in Damian’s fiery determination, his passion for justice, and his willingness to protect those he loved—even if it meant sacrificing himself. It was an intensity Danny hadn’t realized he needed until it was there, right in front of him.

One night, after a particularly harrowing battle against an ancient force that threatened both the Ghost Zone and Earth, Danny and Damian found themselves alone, walking through the quiet streets of Gotham. Danny’s ethereal glow flickered faintly in the shadows, casting an almost otherworldly light on the darkened city.

“I never thought I’d be back here,” Danny said softly, his voice carrying a weight that Damian couldn’t ignore.

Damian glanced at him, his expression unreadable. “Back where?”

“Gotham. I used to visit here when I was younger, but… that was before everything changed.”

Damian stopped walking, a rare softness in his features. “It’s different now, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Danny replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked at Damian, meeting his gaze with a tenderness that was uncharacteristic of someone who had once been a god. “I think I’m still figuring it out.”

Damian reached out, his hand brushing Danny’s in a brief, yet intimate gesture. “We all are,” he said quietly, his voice laced with an emotion he rarely allowed himself to feel.

Danny’s heart skipped a beat, and for the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. He found something in Damian’s gaze—something both grounding and freeing. The quiet strength of the boy who had once been trained to kill now stood beside him, offering something Danny had never thought he needed: love. Not in the way he had known love as the Ghost King, but as something real and unspoken.

It was then that Damian realized that, despite their differences, despite the vast distance between their worlds, he cared for Danny—deeply. And Danny, for the first time, allowed himself to admit the same.

[hanafubukki]

Thinking about heartbeats, how fae have sensitive ears to hear such sounds. Lilia would pause at times and listen.

Badum Badum

And he would sigh, it’s one of the ways he knew his boys are okay.

He listened in on Malleus’s heartbeat when he was in an egg, it was one of the few signs that, yes, this baby was still alive. When he wasn’t allowed to visit Malleus as a child, he would sneak close by the side of the tower of his room and listen in, making sure he was okay. And even long after he had grown, it was another way to detect him when he visited the cottage in the woods.

Thinking of Lilia listening to Silver’s heartbeat, it was a way to keep track of him while he was out and about around the cottage and in the forest. It was also his way of checking that Silver was alive during his sleep spells and to soothe his worries.

Sebek, Lilia didn’t always have to listen in on, his voice loud even at a young age. But during those times the boy would be quiet? He would listen and look for him. A little surprise visit and a prep talk would have the boy back to his loud self.

Thinking about the events after Lilia’s death, now this habit of his are seen in his boys.

Malleus who’s young and his ears sharp, maybe even sharper than Lilia’s, who after loosing him would stand by his door, neither going in nor leaving.

Listening.

There.

His heartbeat.

He’s alive.

Lilia is most likely sleeping given how late it is after Malleus’s walk. But a part of Malleus settles, tears in the corner of his eyes.

Everything is alright.

I love you.

Thinking about Silver who can’t rid of the ghostly feel of his father passing away.

Silver who would log onto the online servers his father plays to check if he’s still playing his video games late into the night

Who would sign in relief once he notices his father playing with his gaming friend of many years.

Thinking about Sebek, the one who wished for all their happiness and who loves a happy ending.

Hesitant and wondering if everything that occurred were true to reality.

He, who would stand by Lilia’s door, not moving for a couple of hours as if he were guarding everyone’s happiness himself.

Thinking about all three meeting by accident at Lilia’s door, no words exchanged, they know the look in the others’ eyes.

The feel of despair still haunts them in the coldness of night.

Thinking how Lilia chooses that moment to open the door, as if he knew, as if he always known they were checking up on him.

He gives them a smile, asking them if they want to have a sleepover. They all agree a bit too quickly that gives away their anxiety but none of them care.

All four end up falling asleep on Lilia’s floor in a tangle of limbs, pillows, blankets, and smiles with him at the center of all and they the center of his world.

They can hear his heartbeat as he can hear theirs.

The road to recovery is a long one filled with tribulations and uncertainties.

But despite the challenges they face, they will always have each other.

That alone will always lead to their Happy Ending.

[autismsupersoldier]

biblically accurate columbo

(alt text in image ID)

[heartorbit]

revstar emu save me

[pharawee]

—If you keep stepping closer, how can we maintain the distance? —What if I don't want to be five meters apart? Because with just five centimeters, I'm already dying.

THAME - PO · เธม-โป้ · HEART THAT SKIPS A BEAT · GMMTV 2024 PART 2

[fatuismooches]

Self-indulgent Omega fic to help turn my writing brain back on, inspired by this brainrot. He is referred to as 24 in here as fragile reader hasn't named the segments yet. You two aren't the closest yet, but a chance encounter with the segment begins to change that. (I will respond to asks... eventually).

After a few centuries-long coma, when you woke up, the hardest thing to process wasn't that fact. It wasn't the fact your lover, who now went by "Dottore" instead of "Zandik" was now a powerful Harbinger. It wasn't the fact you had to deal with this illness for who knows how long (actually, this was quite hard to process, but you tried your best not to dwell on it.) Rather, it was the fact that Dottore now had copies of himself running around. And if you were to properly adjust to your new life, you absolutely had to make room for them. But that was easier said than done.

They were all Zandik, but at the same time, they felt like strangers to you. They were familiarly enigmatic as you had remembered the original one, but you weren't sure if you were good enough to puzzle each of them out all over again... However, pursuing Zandik as a student meant that you certainly were a persistent soul, so you would try!

One of Dottore's segments that you were trying to crack was named 24 (he hadn't bothered to give them names for some reason). 24 was tall and imposing, authoritative even among the segments, despite their tendency to bicker with one another. He was also different from the other segments in a way, but you couldn't put your finger on what exactly it was, for some reason. Needless to say, intriguing (just like all the others). Unfortunately, your attempts to move this relationship forward weren't going the smoothest. You found that even building up your courage for numerous minutes still resulted in a dry throat and awkward moments of the segment looking at you expectantly.

However, that would change one night.

Sleepless nights were frequent when you were a student, but they seemed to have followed you even all this time later. At least, instead of studying and dealing with assignments, you were left to stare at the ceiling in peace or pull out a nice book to read until you became sleepy again. But this time, no option satisfied you. You wanted company. And so you set off to find Dottore. The walk was always nice, but it seemed like you were more tired than you thought, as you eventually realized you were definitely not going the right way in the maze of a building, evident from the recognizable doors of one of the main labs.

Well, you were already here, and you didn't want to walk all the way back. You should just enter and loop your way back around somehow. Judging from the silence on the other side, there was most likely no one else there either, which was good for you! And so you pushed the doors open, intent on entering until you saw him.

24.

He sat there unmasked, screwdriver in hand, carefully tweaking himself, a few other tools to the side as well. Wait, a screwdriver to his face? You squinted a bit more and that's when you realized he... had no face? Well, kind of, he had a mouth and squishy cheeks, but the upper half was replaced by mechanics instead. A gleaming red gem in the middle along with blue wires made up 24's face in replacement for actual eyes, You had no clue that this was what he really looked like.

You were a mix of shock and awe. It was surprising but you supposed you should have expected the segments, who weren't human, to have some features like this. And didn't Prime say 24 was the most recently made segment? More recent, more advanced, you guessed. But you also had a feeling you really shouldn't have walked in on this, so you should leave while you still could. Maybe 24 didn't notice you yet-

"It's awfully past your bedtime, isn't it, [Name]?" 24 hummed, continuing whatever modification he was doing calmly, not the slightest bothered by your intrusion, or by the fact you saw his face. You wanted to retort with something, but your usual attitude with Zandik seemed to die down around this individual that you had yet to become fully comfortable with.

"I could not sleep. So I took a walk." You glanced away from 24, then back at him. "What... what are you doing?" You asked, curiosity overtaking your nervousness.

"Simply performing some routine maintenance. I will be finished soon, and then-"

"Can I see?" The sudden, rather eager question from you, made 24 pause. You had always been quiet and a bit jumpy around him, so this sudden change in attitude had him interested. On the contrary, he thought that seeing this inhuman face of his would make you keep your distance more, but it attracted you? Not what the segment predicted, but he found himself enjoying the surprises you brought with you.

You, on the other hand, were reminded of the old days of helping Zandik put together and apart various contraptions. It was a mixture of 24's display and also the star in the middle, which reminded you of all the Ruin Guards you'd dissected in the Akademiya. It was quite fun. You wanted to see more. Hopefully, this could be a splendid opportunity to satiate your inner researcher and also get closer to the segment.

"Of course, if that is what you'd like." You walked up to him, steps full of caution yet fascination. The way his fingers maneuvered effortlessly with precision at something that appeared delicate - it was very cool, to you at least.

"You don't need a mirror or anything?"

"No, I know my body more than well enough."

"Do you have any sensation up there?"

"Yes, I can feel my own fingers when they brush against it."

"Can I touch you?" Though 24 had entertained your barrage of questions, it was this request that made him pause his work and stare at you. The red star that glimmered intensely at you suddenly made your nervousness go all the way up again.

"I'm sor-"

"Very well," 24 interrupted you, placing his hands on his lap, now looking at you expectantly. You held back a sigh of relief as you stepped even closer to him, giving his upper mechanical face an experimental tap. He didn't react outwardly, but you could tell he felt that. Gulping, you tried again, this time gliding your finger over the blue lines imprinted on the black background. And then the red star in the middle, you gave into the urge to press down on it like a button. Still, 24 seemed to be unbothered. Darn, you had hoped he was ticklish there or something.

Regardless, the area was pretty hard, compared to the softness of his cheeks, which you unconsciously slid another finger down to calculate the exact difference. Until a hand grasped your own, not too tight or too light, firm enough to make you jump.

"[Name], would you care to explain your reasons for such prodding?" Oops. 24 didn't seem very amused.

"I have no intentions, I am just interested in feeling you." As soon as the words came out, you realized how they sounded and rushed to clarify yourself. "Because I've never seen anything like this before! The technology is just interesting to me! As a scholar and all! You understand, right?" But alas, from the now growing smirk on his face, you had already lost.

"Is that so? I shall allow you to continue then, if that is what you wish. I would never block a fellow scholar's pursuit of knowledge," he grinned, pointy teeth grazing his lip as he let go of your hand. Ugh, he was definitely making fun of you.

"And, if you truly desire to obtain satisfactory results, you should come closer, no?" At that moment, the segment suddenly pulled you toward him so that you fell into his lap, legs draped over him and chests nearly pressed against each other. It was rather intimate - the only other lap you've been on was Prime Dottore's. But although your heart was beating quicker than normal, you liked how it felt...

"Better?"

"Yes," your lone word came out quiet, an attempt to hide your flustered state. But you quickly moved on, not wanting to endure further teasing. "S-So, how do you see? Since you have no... you know." 24 chuckled, relishing in the state he and he only reduced you to. But he decided to spare you this one time. He didn't want to drive you too far away now, did he, now that he finally had the chance to be alone with you.

"I have a Kamera installed inside."

"A... Kamera?" The unfamiliar word felt strange on your tongue. You never heard of such a thing.

"It is a device that takes photographs. A photograph is..." 24 pondered, trying to come up with the simplest definition for someone who hadn't had knowledge of the developments of the past four hundred years yet. "It is something that captures a moment of time in physical form." You furrowed your eyebrows at that. It sort of made sense, but it also didn't. How could time be permanent? From the expression on your face, 24 could tell you most definitely wanted to see a Kamera.

"I shall show you it-" you brightened up, "in the morning," and then deflated. "You have delayed far too long, and no one will let you sleep in." You pouted at this finality.

"But what if I want to stay with you?"

"I will accompany you back to your room, and wait until you fall asleep. Is that satisfactory?" You nodded, and then you were lifted into the air as 24 began to carry you effortlessly, making his way to dreary corridors.

And so you began to reflect in the segment's arms, which had gone from never touching you to holding you so intimately. You were surprised to see this side of the segment - you never thought he could act this way. But you suppose, if Dottore cares for you, then the rest of them really do as well.

"We should talk more," you said, just as he slipped you right back into bed. "It would be fun, I think." You don't know why you felt the need to provide a reason, perhaps because he was undoubtedly extremely busy and had better things to do than chat with you all day. And ugh - "fun"? That was such a stupid reason. Why would 24 care about fun? But he seemed to find your request attractive anyway.

"I have harbored the same sentiment for a while. I await our future conversations with great anticipation, [Name]." With a light feeling in your heart, greatly proud of yourself for your progress with the segment, the sleepiness began to settle in once more. The last thing you saw before you fell asleep was the red glow emitting from 24.

From the day he came into this world as 24, to the day you named him to live and die as Omega, he will love you.

[marzipanandminutiae]

Average historian denies all gay relationships statistic false!

No-Lesbians Ruth Franklin, who lives in an archive and denies any possible sapphic interpretation of Shirley Jackson’s work 50 times a day, is an outlier adn should not be counted

[thunderremix8]

Heavy are the hips that support the womb

Oh I get it, when the "John Ward brain rot" accounts post about "impregnating that twink" or "getting that priest pregnant", that's all fine.

But when I, a trans man of culture, actually draw him pregnant then they're all "this is cursed" and "delete this".

[blaithnne]

Democracy wins, here’s my casual design for Louise! Took inspo from @littledigits’s design in terms of the colours, but wanted to put my own spin on it! Gave her black trousers to match her other freaky friends and uhhh I forgot my design process for everything else. Anyways Louise has two dads supremacy

[fearandhatred]

the rapture

it's a holy thing, in theory, a glorious celebration, where those who believe rise to meet the lord in the air. it's a day of joy, in theory, and maybe even of vindication for those who have always believed.

but no one thinks about how it's like to see the dead rise again—bodies clawing their way out of bolted wood and six feet of packed earth, bodies decomposed and maggot-feasted, nails stained with rot and dirt. no one thinks about the violent lurch of their bodies being jolted into the air by the stomach, gravity flinging their heads back down to earth as they struggle in vain to find footing on molecules and gas. no one thinks about those who don't make it.

no one thinks about the screams.

crowley hadn't thought about any of these things. he certainly hadn't thought about the angels that would be called back to heaven along with the believers.

here they stand dead in the middle of absolute ruin, the promise of heaven the only thing left to look forward to on the wasteland of this earth. the sky has opened up like the eye of god, watching over her people for the very first time, and crowley's black wings against the beams of light only remind him that he doesn't belong up there with the rest of them. crowley wraps his arms tight around aziraphale, squeezes his torso like he can maybe keep aziraphale with him through sheer will or, laughably, demonic intervention. like love could ever be enough. like love could stay.

around them, the cacophony of wails and mockingly exaltant trumpets scorch the earth in their intensity, clashing and agonising even—especially—for them, and words make no sound. but they hold on to each other, even as they shrink into themselves against the noise of the undying. i don't want to leave you either, aziraphale doesn't say, but his hands dig into the cotton of crowley's sleeve, and crowley hears the words through his fingertips.

he feels a stronger upward resistance against his embrace now, and he clings tighter, steadfast, even as aziraphale's grip falters. but he knows he can't hold on forever. he knows that nothing ever lasts.

trembling with something unspeakable, he lifts his arms from aziraphale's torso and covers the angel's ears with his hands. he feels more than hearing aziraphale's resulting sob, and he spreads out his wings to wrap them around their bodies. a shield, a comfort, a goodbye.

it's okay, the gesture says in silence. i'll see you in another lifetime.

[radioactive-earthshine]

NGL I have STRONG opinions about digital releases omitting the letters to the editor section of older comics. I feel like the letters are a part of comic history and should be aggressively preserved.

[ty-bayonet-betteridge]

forever thinking about how the long quiet embracing their full divinity involves The Voices coming back. like yeah being plural is basically the same thing as being a godi'll cosign that

[heshemejoshi]

wanted to make a comic but words and structures escape me at the moment so instead i just sketch

plus a dusknoir i think i drew before playing special episode 5 back in january based on a papyrus meme which is honestly really fucking funny in retrospect given there’s a pmd x ut AU going on?? not very active in fandom but i’ve seen multiple crossover fanarts pop up already