#is it a little bit cliche?

[permanently-stressed]

"He told the moon and the stars 'I miss you too'" okay yeah sometimes shannon knows what she's doing

[valtsv]

I think your posts are often trite cliches presented as a sort of original insight (the crucifix as an icon of christianity is morbid, like wearing a guillotine around your neck) and your references are limited (guy who’s only read hamlet: this is just like hamlet)

But your joke posts are funny.

harsh but entirely true and correct

[muckyschmuck]

theyre struggling

[chubbybunny25]

Remember when I said I'd need to watch a Hallmark/Christmas movie and turn it into Percy/Nico?

Yeah. I call this christmas movie au XD

[hiding-in-the-shadows]

“Close your eyes, I’ve got a present for you!” Caretaker whispered, smiling. It was Whumpee’s birthday and they wanted to get them something special. Something they wouldn’t forget.

“Okay!” Whumpee giggled. They’d really come out of their shell after the months away from whumper. “Shall I turn around too? I might sneak a look otherwise!”

Caretaker took Whumpee’s shoulders and turned them to the wall. “Wait here.”

The next thing Whumpee knew, hands we grabbing at them, wrenching their weakened arms behind their back and wrestling them to the floor. They were just about to call out for Caretaker when they heard their voice. “Hey, I’m sorry about this, especially on your birthday but Whumper was offering a lot for your return.”

[starflungwaddledee]

*caassssuuuaallly slides into your inbox* hey. hi hello 😎

im here for those sweet ol song asks, wanna share any you have for Starstruck and J??

do i have any, well i-- *drops a half dozen mean girlboss tracks all over the place* oh uhhh--

something in the way you're looking through my eyes don't know if i'm gonna make it out alive teeth - five seconds of summer

[edwinisms]

see I need ghost clothes to have properties more or less like regular clothes because wearing someone else’s jacket or shirt is one of the most important expressions of affection in existence and yes basically what I’m saying is i wanna see charles give edwin his jacket for one reason or another and see edwin get all flustered and giddy about it

[otaku553]

Hello! I saw your recent art of sabo, and in the tags you mentioned the big 3 of Shounen. I know it’s One piece and Naruto, but what’s the third? How come you like the character? Lovely artwork, it’s candy for the soul!! Thank you •u•

Ah thank you!!! The big three of shonen (for I guess the previous generation?) are Naruto, One Piece, and Bleach. Naruto and Bleach have already ended but it seems like One Piece is still going quite strong, despite the new generation of shonen anime (including Hero Aca, Demon Slayer, and the third spot is still debated! Probably JJK is my guess though that falls into its own sub genre of shonen dark fantasy I suppose)

Here are my favs! I’ll put the reasons why I like them in the read more because it’s quite long :)

Despite watching Naruto first I could never actually finish it because it was so long so I kind of just osmosed the later parts of shippuden through fanfics and other such media ^^; I think it’s pretty difficult to pick a definitive fav for Naruto because I feel like it tends to fumble a bit of its character writing? I think if I had to pick one maybe young Kakashi but still kind of eh. Maybe I just didn’t watch far enough to get attached

As for Bleach, I picked it up years ago around middle school and then dropped it after the first hundred episodes or so because filler got boring for younger me but then I picked it up again in high school and managed to at least get past aizen! And then I dropped it there because I wasn’t interested in any continuation after what seemed like an already pretty strong ending.

Toshiro is my favorite because he falls into all niches of character tropes that I enjoy including but not limited to: child genius who acts responsible but is still somewhat immature, cold personality along with ice powers but fierce loyalty to close relationships. I especially enjoy child genius characters for the contradictory dichotomy of what is expected of them in terms of maturity and knowledge and the amount of pressure these kinds of characters face and how they handle it! That said, I enjoy him more for the tropes that he falls into and my personal interpretation of him rather than canon writing for him. I think that though canon is an alright base, he doesn’t get much time to shine (character-wise instead of combat-wise).

And Sabo. Oh my goodness I am brainrotting so hard over Sabo right now. The ASL siblings in general have a vice grip on my heart and really are not letting go. There is so much tragedy in the way that they are written, that works because there are three of them. Ace and Luffy spend so much effort trying to save the only brother they have left in the world not realizing that if they go they’ll be the first to go actually because Sabo is still alive, and Sabo could have done so much and changed so much if only he had regained his memories sooner. Why didn’t he remember sooner? I can only assume it’s because he didn’t want to remember, because he grew out his hair to cover a scar he wasn’t proud of, because he was running away from his origins when he lost his memories and maybe that stuck with him. I don’t even remember when Sabo was introduced as a character because I don’t think he was mentioned during Marineford? But he’s such a compelling character because he does so much to save the world and yet is unable to save his own brother! And he’s written to fit with Ace and Luffy incredibly well, being the voice of reason where they can’t be.

[littleplantfreak]

gn lovlies I’m gonna go dream about Umemiya getting bit in zombie apocalypse au

[unnonexistence]

btw if i'm ever rambling about math on here and you have questions about it, you are ALWAYS welcome to ask. always. everyone has a different level of math education they're working from & math has a lot of technical terms & frankly i just forget stuff a lot so my rambling might not be all that coherent to begin with.

worst case is idk how to answer your question. more likely you will get some sort of explanation because it means i get to ramble more.

[karda]

dont have energy to draw but i want to let u know im thinking about benry right now. ok? ok thanks.

[quirkle2]

who wants zombie au writing. don't answer that ur getting it anyway (1.6k words)

His shoes knock against the old flooring of the house, wood creaking under rubber soles that slide over the woodgrain. He drags them a bit, lifts his limbs up no more than he strictly has to, and they lead him to the nearest sittable surface.

The couch is old and dusty and has likely gone untouched for months, much like everything else nowadays, so he watches the thin cloud of dust billow off the cushions largely with disinterest. He collapses into the fabric heavily, feels the whole thing scoot back an inch and hit the wall behind him. The sound echoes, carried by lifeless rooms, while he unceremoniously drops his backpack to the floor by his feet.

The breath he lets out is slow and methodical and born of pent up muscles, aimed at the ceiling where he rests his neck against the back of the couch and relaxes every limb one by one. It’s a process he forces himself through, if only to rid the constant ache beneath his skin.

Slow, sweeping footsteps meander around the room in front of him, and Ritsu angles his gaze down from his craned back position to look at his brother. He wanders, like he so often does—seemingly aimless, but there’s something procedural about it that he’s convinced he just hasn’t figured out yet.

Shigeo’s empty eyes crawl along the hearth of the fireplace, explosions of ash sprayed out across the red brick. His head tilts up to trace his attention around the angular lines of the television, hung on the wall and screen grey with dust. He flits back and forth between the roundness of the bricked mantle and the sharp edges of the screen, like he’s taking notes.

Shigeo paws the television. Four lines of muck are cleared. The zombie blinks, paws at it again with dusty, curious fingers. Ritsu watches him make a mess of the television screen in silence, blinking tiredly.

He almost closes his eyes, but he fights against the urge and moves his fingers down his lap to reach for his bag. His middle hooks around the loop at the top and he lugs it up and into his lap, where he unzips it and peers into the shadowy contents.

Ritsu fishes out the water bottles. He finds the one with the messy R scribbled along the cap in sharpie and takes a big swig of it. It’s warm going down, constantly insulated in a bag of old, sweaty clothes. He feels like he can taste the odor in it, but it clears the grain in his throat from stomping all over dirt roads today, so he’s still grateful.

He holds out the one labeled S to Shigeo. “Thirsty?”

Shigeo looks at him from where he’s crouched down to the floor now, inspecting the soot along the hearth. Unfortunately, he sees handprints in the black already, and when his brother reaches a hand out to take it, his palm is covered in soot.

He lets him have his fun and settles his own bottle back in the mess of tangled clothes and rolls of bandages. Ritsu rakes his fingers through their stock with no real purpose—he knows exactly what’s in here, and none of it is useful.

They’d been searching all day; Ritsu doesn’t really know how far they’d walked, but it had to be a lot of miles. In and out of stores, up and down empty houses, weaving between warehouses—they didn’t really stop for a break. Not when Ritsu can hear Shigeo’s stomach from here and he himself has shaking hands. They can’t afford a break.

Nothing, though. Not a single goddamn thing worth taking. A settlement must have come through here long ago and swept the highway. They’re in the countryside, where houses are spaced out acres from each other and there’s entire cow pastures between properties. And yet every house they’d seen and entered provided nothing.

Ritsu stares into the negative space in his bag where there should be supplies. His stomach cramps and if he smells another whiff of that godawful sweaty, bloody sweatshirt he still carries, he’s going to throw up bile.

He leans away from the open pouch, eyes wandering to his brother who draws… something into the soot of the hearth. His water bottle sits on the floor, abandoned and still unscrewed. Ritsu leans forward with great effort and a grunt, leaning over his bag to grab at the top of it.

It takes him two tries to get Shigeo’s attention, and one more for an answer on where the cap is. It’s then placed in his palm, covered in soot and also saliva. Ritsu swallows down the nausea that rolls up his throat and wipes it off with his frankly already disgusting sleeve, and screws it back on.

He leans back again, succumbing to the urge to let his eyes rest, and he listens to the very subtle swipe of his brother’s hands across brick. There’s birds outside, chirping, and even though it’s still very much a common occurrence, Ritsu cannot help but feel nostalgic about it.

If he ignores the awful hum of silence, and the distinct lack of an electric thrum throughout the walls, and the fact that this is a stranger’s couch and not his, he can almost imagine normalcy. He can almost say this feels like those quiet moments after school, when he settles on the couch and scrolls through his phone in a house that only holds him and his brother because their parents simply aren’t home yet.

He can almost hear the creak of wood from Shigeo walking around his room upstairs. He can almost tap his fingers on the couch cushions to the pattern of his brother making his way down the steps. He can almost hear the fridge opening, and the sound of milk being poured into glass.

Almost. But Ritsu listens to sharp silence instead, and he tries not to think too hard.

He drifts for a while, feels himself truly sink into the couch and let the cushions claim him, and he thinks about nothings because if he doesn’t, then he’ll lose it. He carefully sifts through the nothingness of his mind, through the passing thoughts that have no bearing, and he focuses on that, on the lack of substance. His head is too full of things that have too much substance.

He misses boredom. He tells himself he misses boredom—the complete insubstantiality of it—because if he lets himself think of what he really misses, it’ll drive him insane.

The cushions move, and Ritsu peels his eyes open and lets himself get pulled from liminal mindspace. The cotton in his head recedes, and he blinks, and then he’s swiveling his head to look at his brother who sits in the cushion right next to him.

His hands and the cuffs of his hoodie are smothered in black. Shigeo sits hunched, gaze still wandering even when there’s not much decoration in this house to look at. He studies the off-white walls, the chips in the paint, the holes drilled in where there maybe used to be photos hung.

Ritsu gazes at him quietly, chest instinctively rising and falling to match his brother’s rhythm. He watches the expansion there, under his hoodie, in the subtlety of the folds and the way they warp over the movement. It’s slightly quicker than what he’s used to, but Ritsu knows his brother’s heart rate is much slower. He’s felt it before. He’s listened to it before, with his ear against a chest.

Ritsu’s attention moves to his eyes, and the heavy bags underneath them, and the paleness of his pupils and the ghostlight of him underneath that. He stares into them, looks for stray, familiar thoughts that might enter his head. Looks for old memories that might shine through in the form of recognition when he sees furniture layouts, and candy wrappers, and ads for soda.

Ritsu looks for it all the time, that glint of familiarity. And he finds it, sometimes. And really, he thinks that’s keeping him going more than food ever will.

Shigeo turns his head, and looks at him. Sometimes, when his brother looks at him, there’s not much there. No substance, no anything. And Ritsu finds it a bit evil that he craves silence in his own head, and yet noise in Shigeo’s, and often times it is the other way around.

His brother looks at him now, though, with that comforting recognition. That growth of the pupils, that softening of the hard edges of his face where unknown stressors have gotten to him. Ritsu wonders what zombies get stressed out. He figures it’s the same deal with humans, considering they’re largely alike.

Ritsu wonders if Shigeo knows he’s sick. He wishes he could ask him. He wishes for a lot of things. Silence in his own head is one of them.

Ritsu swivels his head away and stares at the ceiling, if only to force the thoughts to pause. He studies the popcorn ridges above them, traces the peaks with his gaze. It calms him, gives him something to focus on. He looks for patterns in the shadows they make.

Shigeo shifts next to him. And then he shimmies down, settles into the cushions, and plops his head right down on Ritsu’s shoulder.

Static roars in his mind and his heart stammers. Ritsu swallows the lump in his throat but that just makes it bigger, so he clamps his mouth shut and breathes carefully through his nose.

The tears cut through the grime on his face. He plops his own head down against his brother’s, and lives in the noise.

[emily-mooon]

Imagine if Stacey and Neil actually met in high school except they didn’t go to the same school: they met through Kid Chameleon.

One night, Scott brings Stacey to one of their shows and it just so happens that Stephanie (or Steph) brought Neil with her.

Since they were both the youngest people there (Neil’s 17, Stacey’s 16 till December), they decided to talk to each other and they hit it off.

Stacey also develops a bit of a crush on Neil and would always ask Scott if Steph was going to bring her brother with her again, as she wanted to see him and didn’t know if there was another way.

Then one morning, she discovers that they take the same TTC bus and from then on they talk before and after school and become sorta friends. At this point, Neil also starts developing a crush on her.

Things stayed like that for about two months until Neil and his mom moved places (as I agree with the headcanon that the Nordegraf siblings have divorced parents) so they would no longer take the same bus in the morning or after school. They still have Kid Chameleon shows to meet up and talk at right? Ha ha wrong cause at New Years, the famous break up between Scott and Envy happens which in turn, also breaks up the band.

That whole break up was the nail in the coffin that strained Neil and Stacey’s kinda friendship. They didn’t have the others phone number cause they were both too shy to ask and also cause they both kept forgetting.

There also wasn’t a whole ton of opportunities to ask either of their siblings for their phone numbers so they just gave up and went on with their lives.

But then why didn’t they recognize the other in the like three times there were in the same room together? Easy answer: Stacey was distracted by everything around her to even notice Neil, who in turn, was slowly disappearing into the crowd and fully did by the time it was Lisa’s going away dinner.

So when they see each other again properly at the Chaos Theater, something clicks and they fall back into where they once were two years ago. To them it felt like a decade, but no it was just two years. They catch up on what they missed in the others lives on the walk home.

After that these dorks start dating cause the feelings were still there, just buried deep, left dormant, and forgotten. They came back but slightly different as people change.

[weaselle]

wake up in the mornin' my mind kind of stormin' i sit 'n' sip delicious brew- no time for mental thunder with the deadlines that i'm under fist grippin' this list to do hip holster full of laughter draggin' this boulder after baby take it to the top of the hill where it's never stayed yet but i place another bet sayin' maybe this time it will

[letsjam-art]

silly idea time

idk how this idea even started but the outfit i had in mind was way back from a doodle in 2021 or 2022, basically my 'what if' for temperance ending only instead of being wildly ooc and wearing a collared button up johnny becomes a cowboy. and because i was listening to vagrant song from wtwtlw (that whole ost really, and hardspace shipbreaker) i had the bright idea that johnny would finally become what his class in the ttrpg was an homage to and wander around collecting stories n telling them n kind of being a dead man walking/ghost story/witness/helper-bard r smthn but having been extremely tempered by the experience of v choosing to die for him, being shocked enough into actually thinking about his beleifs n what have you, humbled enough now to want to listen to others hed choose this path of wandering the continent of na, maybe for the first time in a long time actually taking in life around him yadda yadda. in my little scenario i also had it that even if/when the next corpo war broke out or the nusa annexed more free states, he wouldnt get involved like he used to, cause i think its interesting to muse on how a profound experience would greatly change someone so stuck in their ways like johnny. i think hed still be motivated by guilt and avoidance at first, but it would evolve into something more like a calling/altruism as he takes more seriously and uses more intentionally the time he was given as a dead man walking

also i realize how much of this 'outfit' is just putting v in a hat and calling them johnny like its some perry the platypus thing (also idk how to draw hats)

[tinukis]

i may just say fuck it and skip right to wano (im caught up with the manga dont hit me) bc i got what i wanted in wci and i need to feed my zolu brainworms dude