#is there one on every corridor?

[deranged-fanfic-nugget]

one thing i love about hogwarts is just how many conveniently placed broom cupboards it has according to about 40% of the fanfics i’ve read

[wandixx]

Danny, the Young Justice member snippet nr 2

these snippets aren't connected in anyway but just some little scenes I came up with, everyone is welcome to build up on them if they want to

Trigger warning: death mentioned, self-harm mentioned, idk, Danny gets flashback to portal incident

unrelated snippet nr 1, unrelated snippet nr 3 (?)

Out, out, out.

He tripped over his own legs and almost fell and it didn’t matter because he needed to get out. 

Away, away, away. 

He wasn’t sure if he ran or flew or dragged himself on the rough floor but he had to get away. His back hit a wall and he couldn’t get past it, intangibility just out of his grasp.

He logically knew that Zeta Tube wasn't the same as the portal but it was similar. So deadly similar.

He wasn’t sure when his own, corps-like, trembling with rigor mortis cold hands started rubbing his arms. He also wasn’t sure whether it was to comfort himself in this lonely self-hug or to try to rub hard enough that the hazmat and skin underneath would be torn, allowing him to see his own, red blood running in his veins. It was still red, right? It was still red, right? Of course it was still running, why wouldn’t it?

His knees gave up. He fell to the ground with quiet reverbatting thump, his eyes fixated on danger at the other side of the large room. He had to get further away but he couldn’t.

Because he was dying again.

Eyes full of tears and terror were jumping around, unable to see the room around him. Why couldn’t he see anything? Why were there only splashes of various colors, all contrasting with a light gray background. Were these people? Colors were moving, that seemed likely. Ghosts?! He had to get ready if these were ghosts he needed to fight them. People could be in danger and he couldn’t even stand without support. He started it, he had to take care of it, no matter how he felt right now.

His normally overly, unnaturally sensitive ears were filled with constant electric buzz from still active Zeta Tubes.

He was quite sure someone was yelling something but no matter what, Danny couldn’t understand what was being said. He tried looking around again but his teary eyes still failed him. There were no red stains though. Not in the right shade at least. No one was bleeding. It was okay for now.

Was it really? He hadn’t bled when he was dying had his accident though. It was all inside him, the crushing hollowness inside him and infinite outside pressure making his body implode. Ectoplasm bubbling in his mouth, throat, stomach and fingers, silencing his scream of agony and destroying his muscles. His limbs were limp and tense, twitching like a broken light bulb, out of his control but not out of his senses. It was so cold that it bit his bones and so hot that his skin was melting. There were screams so loud that it could shatter glass, as if every inhabitant of the Ghost Zone wanted to be heard and absolute suffocating silence. He was alone like nobody ever was and stuck in a stifling crowd that could stomp him to death any second. It was all contrasting, impossible but happening, existing together. He lived died it.

It was impossible, just like him.

There were others, they could help while Danny got himself together.

They couldn’t help if it was a ghost. He had to calm down and get ready to fight.

He couldn’t.

It was all happening again.

He was dying again.

It hurt to even think about.

Would it at least kill him for good?

Air he hadn’t needed before, not since his first death he always needed, like all functioning, alive human beings, got stuck in his lungs. He was gasping for it, choking on it. There was something stuck in his throat. SOme part of his brain that wasn’t screaming in agony and panic and loneliness had considered tearing his neck open just to get whatever was stuck swallowing but it didn’t help. 

He rubbed his arms harder. His eyes were locked on a blurred, still active portal. One of the color blobs moved, growing larger but he couldn’t think about what it meant. His arms hurt. It was good. Pain was grounding. In a gray room with few portals. Not the basement. Ghosts still could be there but it wasn't a basement. He still needed to get ready to fight

If he could feel pain, it meant he was alive, right? Ghosts never showed that they felt pain right? His parents always said they couldn’t.

He knew it was a lie but he felt like it was his last hope.

He realized that growing group of colors actually looked like a person but he had no way to tell whether they were alive or not. His ghost sense was quiet but he didn’t trust himself to not miss it. His throat was still shut tightly. His body kept twitching like a glitching character. No matter what, he couldn’t fight right then. He had to get himself together.

He scratched his arms almost violently.

Warm, soft, gentle hands pried his palms away from his arms. It wasn't a ghost. Ghosts weren't this gentle, this calmingly warm. Someone, someone who was alive, was crouching in front of him, face at the same level as his, hiding portals from his sight. Danny nearly sunk into their gentle touch.

“-om." their voice also was so gentle, filled with concern but firm enough to get to him over the buzz of portals. He tried to concentrate on this voice. He didn't want to hear portals.

"-ntom." It sounded like they were calling someone. He had to focus more to understand. Gentle grip on his wrists got more firm. There he was. He wouldn't feel it if he was dying again.

"Phantom." They called quietly, like little windbells Sam gave him as a birthday present. It was his name, they were asking him something he couldn't understand, something he couldn't do.

"I'm sorry."

He wasn't sure if any sound came out of his mouth.

Grip on his hands loosened a little, not enough for him to do anything about it, but enough to return to the pure feeling of safety and reassurance it gave him before.

“It's okay Phantom." they murmured. Danny nearly cried at their kindness and calmness. Air slowly started to fill his lungs again. It truly was okay, he wasn't dying again."Can you focus on five things you can see for me?"

He could do it. It wasn't much to repay the gentle person kneeling in front of him.

He blinked tears away and started the list in his head.

Black Canary in front of him.

Superboy in the middle of the room. He looked like he didn't know what to do.

Kid Flash next to him, ready to come to where Danny was shaking on the floor.

Robin and Artemis both made sure that Kid stayed where he was.

Miss Martian for sure feeling his panic and having trouble coping with this. He should calm down as soon as he can, he didn't want to cause any of his teammates too much stress.

Danny nodded, looking once again at the only adult hero in the room.

Molecules in his body were rearranging again. It all hurt.

"Thank you Phantom. Can you focus on four things you can hear?"

Five racing heartbeats.

One heartbeat that sounded more like buzz because of its speed. KF's heart was always weird.

Tapping of someone's feet.

Zeta Tubes.

He had been in the portal again, it had turned on with him inside again. He was dying again.

Next cautious nod.

"Alright. Now three things you can touch." Black Canary still sounded so calm, so sure she had it all under control. So contrary to her panicked heart. Danny wanted to believe her voice.

Canary's hands still on his wrists. In fact she was touching him more than he was her, but it still counted. There was some physics rule about it.

Cold stone he was sitting on. Weird, he was sure this cave was heated.

Hard wall pressing on his spine.

"Excellent. Two things you can smell?"

Jazz had done same exercise with him before.

Cookies made by Megan before she went on a mission.

Ectoplasm. Somewhere there was ectoplasm that wasn't inside him. He couldn't smell his own ecto. But there was no ghost in the cave. His sense was silent. It was there somehow else. It was concerning but not enough to make him panic again. They could handle it.

His lungs were still aching but air started filling them nearly as much as it did normally. His limbs stopped shaking so much too. He knew he wasn't dying this time. He was calming down.

"You're doing great Phantom. Now think, what's one thing you can taste?"

Aftertaste of ectoplasm he spat between the rough fight and the moment when Kid Flash rushed him to the nearest Zeta Tube, talking about medical attention. Danny tried to tell him, he didn't need that but he was inside before his explanation left his mouth.

"Do you feel better now?"

"Yeah," It was all he was able to say at the moment. He truly felt better but that didn't mean good. It was only a little less bad than shitty, one step from fully dead.

I considered writing continuation with Danny explaining a bit what happened and how he even ended up in Zeta Tube but a) lost spark to rewrite it b) hated what already had But if you want, I can probably rub my remaining two braincels together and continue. Or someone else can. Do it if you want to. Do it. Do it

[seifrin]

Day 6 - Black Hole/Collapse

Fear not, little star, at the decay of one world arises another. Leave your regrets behind you and witness the birth of world anew.

Day 6 of @darlnyan's ISAT-ober prompts

Grayscale under cut.

[gio-cosmo]

He has NO reason to be looking this joyful here 😭

[ficandkaboodle]

Y’all I just had the most idea ever —

The Siblings and ghouls tasked with the Ministry’s social media are asked to do something to make the Papas appear more approachable. Something less likely to scare people off.

…

The Ministry presents…

The Emeriti Try

Your favorite (and also one and only) place to see your favorite Papas (and sometimes Nihil also) try out shit they normally don’t fuck with or have not a single clue about!

Episodes include:

The Papas Try the Garbage Plate

The Papas Try Go-Karting

The Papas Try Slam Poetry

[asgardian--angels]

Just wanted to thank you for taking the time and effort to put together the long climate/environment post, especially the online resources. I've wanted to replace the neglected/dead non-native plants at my place with native plants for months, but didn't know where to start my search for species except to walk around my local nature preserve trying to find something that isn't invasive lol. I'll be able to start (re)introducing native plants this month because of you :-)

Thank you for the kind words. I'm glad the post has been helpful and inspiring. If you'd like more directed guidance on native plants, I can probably point you in the right direction if you can give me a general area to work with (state would suffice!). In general, go for keystone species- those that are common in your area and support many kinds of insects- or pollinator favorites, or host plants for rare/imperiled butterflies/bees/moths.

[merakiui]

Omg- I love your blog fr- as a riddle Stan i firmly believe in Top riddle! Or maybe switch? ANYWAY! Basically what I’m saying is he’s a serious guy, so you accidentally piss him off right? Next minute he’s pinning you down and ‘teaching’ you to ‘Follow the rules’ and maybe he has his own little set of rules for the bedroom- but he also wants to be cared for, so switch riddle on the bottom, giving him a bj and praising him- ALSO I FIRMLY BELIEVE RIDDLE HAS A PREGNANCY AND BREEDING KINK NOW! Plz I wanna ‘help him out’ when he’s stressed and stuff- I’m having a riddle brain riot fr rn- I love him sm😭

YES YES YES AAAAAAA whether it's top, bottom, or switch, Riddle is always so !!!!!!!! Some days he's making you cry from overstimulation and other days you're making him cry. >:) whoever said sex couldn't count as an extracurricular!!! He'll always pencil you into his schedule because you're more important than a textbook. As valuable as textbooks can be, they aren't you and they also aren't going to give him good head!! And if Riddle ever allows his mind to wander during lectures, it's a guarantee that he's thinking of you (thinking of fucking you against the lectern) and how much he admires you and your ability to persevere in a school setting without magic and how you're always so sweet to him and how the both of you have such good chemistry and... Oh, he's really in love, isn't he?

I like to think Riddle is surprisingly good at dirty talk. It just comes out naturally? Somehow??? And he doesn't even realize what he's saying at first; he just has moments where he gets a little cocky or proud and that attitude transfers nicely to dirty talk when the both of you are getting up to no good in the Heartslabyul kitchen or in the lounge. He's good at banter!!!! Too good!! And for all of the teasing you subject him to, he can be a tease in return (in private, most often).

AND THE BREEDING AND PREGNANCY KINK!!!!! Omg you would never suspect it, but oh is he down bad for the idea of making you a mommy. <3 he's probably role-played it with you once or twice just to be able to pretend like the fantasy is real for one night.

[grimxark]

Rodimus brings a Idgaf energy to the Lost Light that Magnus doesn’t really like

[tiercel]

Extremely cool that every single graphic designer job now says some bullshit like this

You dont want a "graphic designer" you want someone to shart out AI slop for you. Theyre literally not even asking you to draw for them anymore, they just want you to "supervise" the stupid fucking program

[megaclubdiolis]

柄本 佑 || 「光る君へ」 (2024) · 第三十八回 「まぶしき闇」 ​​​

[absensia-archived]

to build on the last post about charlotte’s chronic loneliness as well as the fact that she is not and has never meant to be a protagonist even within her own narrative,  I wanted to quick little note about the nature of charlotte’s overall and overwhelming absence as a person.  to say that she’s not there is one thing,  but to say that she does not actually exist whatsoever until called into reality is another,  and both are true.  these statements coexist.  it ties back to what I’ve been saying about charlotte’s inherent need for other people and connection.  more than the fact that it’s one,   part of her personality to seek social interaction and two,   part of her work to get involved with other people,  the presence of other people is essential to her existence itself.  if there is no one to call her,  she cannot exist.   if there is no one to see her or look for her,  she does not exist.   this,  of course,  carries the implication that the other person is also at fault for bringing charlotte into existence by calling and looking for her in the first place.  but she has to respond too in order to be real.  and it is in her respond that charlotte manages to reclaim a smidgen of agency and control over her otherwise conditional and other-dependent presence.  of course,  she uses her responses and summoned presences to her advantage,  using the chance to embed into people’s minds and realities in a way and to an extent where if she were to disappear back into nothingness,  there will be enough absence or an absence pronounced enough in the other’s perception and understanding of reality to bother them into remembering her or something/someone like her. . .      (    quote from sam sax,  hydrophobia   )

[yohankang]

i'm going to an 80s themed party tomorrow so i went through my grandma's closet and i had SO much fun oh god

[bitchfitch]

Consumed with the need to draw a comic and consumed with the knowledge I'm Really bad at actually finishing comics.

[prokopetz]

I guess the reason all that Backrooms stuff has never really fazed me is because I worked in on-site networking support for a while, and literally every city's downtown district is just Like That once you get off the beaten path. Not just the really big cities, either; the one I'm currently living in has a population of less than 250 000 – metro area included – and a downtown area about six blocks across, and the service corridors still manage to do some House of Leaves shit. At one point I was trying to map the route of a misbehaving network cable, started out in a shopping mall parking garage, and ended up surfacing in the basement of the casino across the street. Totally unsecured – apparently neither the mall's administration nor the casino's managers knew that particular service corridor existed.

[sqoa]

toji zenin, who has only stayed with the zenin clan because he just can’t give up the sweet pussy of his personal servant—you.

because you don’t adhere to the strict rules given to the servants. and you can’t bring yourself to care about them either.

because why should you wake toji up by parting his window shutters and letting the sun stir him awake, when you could rouse him from sleep with your lips wrapped around his cock instead? you’re sure he prefers waking to the warmth of your throat, delicate eyes looking up at him through your lashes as you take his length to the base.

his hand, even in his half-asleep state, reaching down to push you even further on his cock until he can feel the back of your throat and your nose is tickled by his dark pubes. because there’s no better alarm sound than that of you gagging on his cock as you swallow the load he gifts you.

and how could he bring himself to leave when he has you at his beck and call at all times? all he has to do is shoot you a look from across the room and you’re ducking out to meet him in a quiet corridor or empty room so he can hike up your robes and drop to his knees to return the mornings favour. sure, he’s a selfish man, but he’s greedy and indulgent when it comes to tasting you.

you always try to be quiet when cumming on his tongue but you never succeed, and toji loves it. he loves knowing the assholes in his clan hear it every time he sinks into you, because you’re moaning his name so pretty that any lesser man would cum as soon as you tighten around his pulsing cock. he loves knowing every time you serve him in their presence they’re only imagining the way you serve him with your cunt behind closed doors.

god, he doesn’t even care to close the door half the time. too many times has a clan elder walked in to see you, pressed up against the wall as toji fucks you from behind with fast strokes and drawling groans. and he never stops, never slows down or even bothers to care about an unwelcome audience—because you never care. you serve him, not them, and if worrying about prying eyes takes from your duties—you’d rather take his affections in stride.

because you are his in every aspect of the word. you serve him hand and foot, you take his cock into your mouth each morning, you let him fuck you full of his cum each evening, you turn his scowl into a gentle smile with each kiss you lay upon his lips. your heart is his, and his yours.

and one morning before the sun has risen to find toji in the servants chambers, his lips patched around your clit and two fingers already pumping into you. he plays the servant, and wakes you for once. you cum not once, but twice around his fingers, back arching as pleasure washes you clean. and as he pulls away with a glistening lower half of his face and presses the most gentle kiss to your inner thigh, he whispers something that changes the course of your life entirely.

“let’s get the fuck outta here, whaddya’ think, dollface?”