#just a thing i wrote
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Ghosts: About Last Night
So my sister has been watching this yet again and I kinda wrote a thing. Damn. Now I have a whole fic going on in my head.
Warnings: None that I can think of just Julian being a massive perv and drunken madness.
(Mara stumbles down the hallway drunk. She swigs whiskey from a bottle. Her shirt is hanging open exposing her lacy bra. She stumbles into one of the bedrooms and puts the whiskey on the side table. She then takes her shoes and leggings off before lying down on the bed. The Captain walks in and stops dead.).
Captain: Er excuse me. These arenât your quarters.
Mara: Um. Evening officer.
Captain: I demand that you leave at once.
Mara: Um. You coming to bed?
Captain: Excuse me?
(She pulls her shirt open further exposing a black lacy bra which her large breasts are squashed into.).
Captain: No. No. I will not abide by this drunken debauchery. I suggest you get back to your own room.
Mara: Um.
(Her eyes have drifted closed and she remains lying where she is.).
Captain: Did you hear me? I said leave now. This is my room. You have your own room upstairs.
(She doesnât move. The Captain sighs.).
Captain: Alison!
(He marches from the room and goes to Alisonâs bedroom. She is curled up asleep next to Mike who is snoring loudly.).
Captain: Alison! Alison! Wake up now! There is an insurgent in my bedroom! You must get her out.
(Alison doesnât wake up.).
Captain: Alison!
(The Captain sighs again and marches from the room. He returns to his room. Mara is still lying in his bed.).
Captain: Still here. Now this is really taking the biscuit. I have asked you to leave.
(He walks over to the side of the bed.).
Captain: Wake up!
(He starts to sing in her ear.).
Captain: I am the very definition of a model major general.
(Mara giggles.).
Mara: Youâre cute.
Captain: I am not cute. I am a commanding officer and I have given you a direct order. Now get out!
Mara: Just come to bed handsome. Itâs late.
Captain: I will not-
(Thomas walks in.).
Thomas: Whatâs all the shouting?
Captain: She wonât leave.
Thomas: Why is she in here?
Captain: I donât know. But she is highly intoxicated and she has seen fit to rob me of my bed.
Thomas: Oh.
Captain: Get her out of here would you?
Thomas: How am I supposed to do that?
Captain: I donât know.
Thomas: Mara? Mara?
Mara: Um?
(Her eyes open slightly.).
Thomas: You need to go back to your own bed.
Mara: Iâm in bed. Are you sleeping here too?
Thomas: What? No. You need to go back to your own room now.
Mara: Um.
(Her eyes drift closed again. The Captain sighs in frustration. Pat walks in.).
Pat: There you are. Everything alright?
(He sees Mara lying there and frowns.).
Pat: Whatâs she doing in here?
Thomas: I donât know.
Captain: She wonât leave.
Pat: Oh right. Mara this isnât your room.
Captain: No itâs no good.
Pat: Well sheâs very drunk mate. Why donât you just go up to her room and sleep there tonight?
Captain: No. This is my room and I want to sleep here.
Pat: Well...
(Julian walks in.).
Julian: Hello. Whatâs going on in here then?
Captain: Oh yes thatâs it. Just come on in all of you. It isnât like I want to sleep or anything.
(Julian is eyeing Mara up. He moves around to the other side of the bed and peers down at her breasts.).
Julian: Look at those for size. Lovely pair sheâs got.
Thomas: Contain yourself man! What is wrong with you?
Julian: Oh come on. Like you lot arenât stood there gawping at her yourselves.
Pat: We werenât actually.
Thomas: How dare you.
(Mara rolls over and the shirt lifts up revealing black lacy panties.).
Julian: Hello. Matching undies. Someone thought they were gonna get some.
(Julian chuckles. Thomas tuts.).
Thomas: Iâm off to bed. I can no longer partake in this spectacle.
(Thomas leaves the room.).
Pat: Yes I should be going too. Come on Julian.
(Julian is reaching out trying to prod one of Maraâs breasts.).
Pat: Leave her alone. Come on.
Julian: Oh. Why canât I have any fun with you?
Pat: Sheâs passed out drunk. Itâs not right mate. Come on.
(Pat leaves the room. Julian looks at The Captain.).
Julian: You lucky sod. Wish sheâd come and got into my bed.
(Julian chuckles again and leaves the room. The Captain shakes his head.).
Captain: Now I am not going to tell you again. Get out now. Go back to your own room.
(Mara fidgets and slides her arm across the bed.).
Mara: Hold me handsome.
Captain: This is ridiculous. One I canât do that and two I really just want to go to bed. Now away with you. Come on. Enough of all this funny business.
Mara: Um.
(She doesnât move and he sighs angrily before marching from the room. He goes downstairs and walks outside. He starts to walk across the grounds. He doesnât get very far before he stops. He sighs and turns looking back at the house.).
Captain: Oh this is ridiculous.
(He walks back to the house and goes back up to his room. Mara is still lying there. He sighs and walks over to the other side of the bed. He lies down on his back next to her and closes his eyes. A few minutes later Mara moves and her arm goes right through him. He springs upright.).
Captain: Right thatâs it.
(He gets up and leaves the room. He goes up to Maraâs attic bedroom. He sighs and looks around before lying down on the bed. He closes his eyes.).
Captain: Hm.
#Ghosts#BBC Ghosts#Ghosts UK#Writing#My Writing#Fanfic#original character#Mara Benton#Alison and Mike Cooper#The Captain#Pat Butcher#Thomas Thorne#Julian Fawcett#Randomness and Madness#Just a thing I wrote#Ghosts fanfiction
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Ones and Zeros
So this is where she was holed up, a clearing in a field at the end of the world.
All simulated, as far as he knew. He followed her passed the glitched, pink cliffs, integrity crumbling with bits of exposed code. He followed her passed the colorful confetti and empty Irken uniforms that littered the empty fake streets. Only the two of them remained, but she was stalling. It seemed now she wanted to be caught.
Why? What was she getting at?
âSorry, Dib, you really gotta understand. I wanted you to learn something.âÂ
Each word she spoke rippled through a field of tall grass. A damaged moon hung low in the sky, chipped away at; still a friendly shade of pink. Her silhouette looked somehow sinister in the dim light. The horns perched atop her head gave way to a foreboding shadow in the clipping grass. She was bringing the entire place down, the two of them with it.
âYouâre angry! At them! I get it! So am I! But-âÂ
âWhat? No!â
The ripples grew, circles extending outward from where she stood, facing forward, purple eyes cast up at the false moon before she turned and offered only a passing glance at her opponent. Had he ever seen her angry? To be honest, he couldnât recall. She wasnât Zim, at the very least, she didnât fight like him. Her suspicious behavior had managed to pass under his radar until now.
âThis is your plan? Youâre just trapping us all in here?â he accentuated his question with an accusatory point, and the sigh that erupted from her echoed throughout the simulated landscape.
âTheyâre code. Ones and zeros for me to play with. Like this-â she spread her arms out at her sides, âI wanted you to see; theyâre just directives stuffed in a backpack. Some rearranging here and there and-â she giggled, â-they all fall apart!â she smiled, razor sharp teeth over thin lips,
âYeah? I know that. I never thought of it that way maybe. If thatâs how you feel, why work for Zim?â he shook his head, tone taking a turn for the curious rather than accusatory. Her grin was replaced with a pensive frown, she turned to look at him finally face only slightly illuminated by the dim, pink lighting,
âHeâs not like them. I donât mean that in a good way either.â hands clasped behind her back, she managed a bitter laugh, âMaybe I wanna see how it ends? Maybe I just like when cool, new things happen. But you know what I donât like?â
Dib didnât answer,
âPeople who arenât any fun.â
#hal and dib both hack an irken battle sim and uh chaos ensues#NOT an open#just a thing i wrote#idk i'm no fic writer and i'm not completely lovin it but#there it is#imma continue it eventually probably maybe
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because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.
you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.
you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.
don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.
if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.
you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:
how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!
aren't you happy yet?
#almost wrote the champagne line as ''effervescent'' but legit could not write it without saying ''effervescent like a snail''#ah tumblr...#writeblr#warm up#idk . having trouble writing rn#ps i don't like to talk about it . it is my medical information. but before you ask. yes this is about being on the spectrum#i really don't like when ppl make my writing about how im [whatever ID]. i want it to ring true for the people who it rings true for#i don't want it to be like ''awwwww look at this person!!! she's the EXCEPTION!!! :)" .....#no.... not really.....#idk something gross happens whenever i admit to certain conditions and i turn into like inspiration p*rnography#like yes they actually let us use keyboards these days#furthermore i just... dont feel comfortable talking about this part of me. i had too bad of a childhood. adhd is one thing...#this one im like. still coming to terms with. which is like. my own journey.#idk. just please be kind. some things are more private than others. this one feels private to me.#i do not know how to help others w/this . and i do not know how to help myself. i will talk about it if im ever ready. idk if that will#actually ever happen#ty in advance i love u im kissing you we are kissing somewhere on the spectrum
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the fact that shakespeare was a playwright is sometimes so funny to me. just the concept of the "greatest writer of the English language" being a random 450-year-old entertainer, a 16th cent pop cultural sensation (thanks in large part to puns & dirty jokes & verbiage & a long-running appeal to commoners). and his work was made to be watched not read, but in the classroom teachers just hand us his scripts and say "that's literature"
just...imagine it's 2450 A.D. and English Lit students are regularly going into 100k debt writing postdoc theses on The Simpsons screenplays. the original animation hasn't even been preserved, it's literally just scripts and the occasional SDH subtitles.txt. they've been republished more times than the Bible
#due to the Great Data Decay academics write viciously argumentative articles on which episodes aired in what order#at conferences professors have known to engage in physically violent altercations whilst debating the air date number of household viewers#90% of the couch gags have been lost and there is a billion dollar trade in counterfeit âlost copiesâ#serious note: i'll be honest i always assumed it was english imperialism that made shakespeare so inescapable in the 19th/20th cent#like his writing should have become obscure at the same level of his contemporaries#but british imperialists needed an ENGLISH LANGUAGE (and BRITISH) writer to venerate#and shakespeare wrote so many damn things that there was a humongous body of work just sitting there waiting to be culturally exploited...#i know it didn't happen like this but i imagine a English Parliament House Committee Member For The Education Of The Masses or something#cartoonishly stumbling over a dusty cobwebbed crate labelled the Complete Works of Shakespeare#and going 'Eureka! this shall make excellent propoganda for fabricating a national identity in a time of great social unrest.#it will be a cornerstone of our elitist educational institutions for centuries to come! long live our decaying empire!'#'what good fortune that this used to be accessible and entertaining to mainstream illiterate audience members...#..but now we can strip that away and make it a difficult & alienating foundation of a Classical Education! just like the latin language :)'#anyway maybe there's no such thing as the 'greatest writer of x language' in ANY language?#maybe there are just different styles and yes levels of expertise and skill but also a high degree of subjectivity#and variance in the way that we as individuals and members of different cultures/time periods experience any work of media#and that's okay! and should be acknowledged!!! and allow us to give ourselves permission to broaden our horizons#and explore the stories of marginalized/underappreciated creators#instead of worshiping the List of Top 10 Best (aka Most Famous) Whatevers Of All Time/A Certain Time Period#anyways things are famous for a reason and that reason has little to do with innate âvalueâ#and much more to do with how it plays into the interests of powerful institutions motivated to influence our shared cultural narratives#so i'm not saying 'stop teaching shakespeare'. but like...maybe classrooms should stop using it as busy work that (by accident or designs)#happens to alienate a large number of students who could otherwise be engaging critically with works that feel more relevant to their world#(by merit of not being 4 centuries old or lacking necessary historical context or requiring untaught translation skills)#and yeah...MAYBE our educational institutions could spend less time/money on shakespeare critical analysis and more on...#...any of thousands of underfunded areas of literary research i literally (pun!) don't know where to begin#oh and p.s. the modern publishing world is in shambles and it would be neat if schoolwork could include modern works?#beautiful complicated socially relevant works of literature are published every year. it's not just the 'classics' that have value#and actually modern publications are probably an easier way for students to learn the basics. since lesson plans don't have to include the#important historical/cultural context many teens need for 20+ year old media (which is older than their entire lived experience fyi)
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today, I am doing what I want to do. today, I am doing nothing at all.
today, I appreciate all that is around me. today, I create more beauty to surround me.
today, I feel no guilt about anything I have done. today, I feel no guilt about the things I've yet to do.
today, I breathe in and absorb all the sunshine. today, I exhale negativities and release shadows.
today, I accept love from all sources. today, I put my love into all energies.
and tomorrow, I'll do it all again.
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when weâre done with our overwhelming grief weâll eat i guess
#book 22#im verh drunk#hi#greatest hits#not really sure why this one resonated. are u all ok#is everyone just at the shiva#yall need to stop saying you arent gonna eat then in the tags#i love that a lot of you are getting beautiful things out of this#but some of yall need to know i wrote this while incredibly drunk#this isnt meant to be all that deep this is just shitty iliad posting#more comments like this is just judaism. surprise surprise im jewish#but again this isnt about sitting shiva#this is me drunk talking about the last 3 books of the iliad#idk what to tell u man#legendary warrior
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from the start !
so. . what are we ??
youâve been katsukiâs for as long as you can remember.
sure, he had never outwardly called you his girlfriend, but when you were both seven years old, he came up to you. chest heaving slightly from running up and down the hill where he had gotten you a freshly plucked out bouquet of flowers. the roots were still clinging to them and he got dirt all over your hands from forcibly grabbing them and shoving the bouquet in them before you could even form a sentence.
âsince you accepted the flowers, youâre mine now.â he mumbled, his little hands tightened into fists at his sides and chubby cheeks a cute shade of pink, staring at you as confidently as he could.
a grin grows on his face when you respond with a simple âokay !â and a bright smile. the grin on his face never disappears even as his mom scolds him for getting you both all dirty.
you were katsukiâs in middle school too, when the boys in class decided to play kiss, marry, kill and he had somehow gotten dragged into it. the girls in your class tried their best to seem uninterested, claiming the boys were being childish, but you noticed how hard some of them were straining their ears trying to hear what the guys were talking about in their own little corner of the room. youâd be lying if you said you werenât a little curious as well.
katsuki was as ruthless as youâd known him to be, choosing to kill any girl that wasnât to his liking, which ended up being all of them. much to the other boysâ chagrin, claiming he had no taste.
then your name was brought up.
at that, his eyes widened and he turned in his seat to see if you were watching. you had never turned your head away so fast in your life and you were pretty sure you heard something go âcrackâ.
he clicked his tongue. mumbling something about how stupid the game was before muttering out a âkiss yn, marry yn and kill that other bitch.â before getting up and stomping away, claiming he had to go to the bathroom followed closely by the whoops and hollers of his two friends behind him.
you both made eye contact when he walked out and you think youâll never forget how red his cheeks were.
you were katsukiâs when he was the one to walk you to and from school everyday, claiming you would somehow get lost without him. you were katsukiâs when he had begrudgingly shoved homemade valentines day chocolates into your arms, mumbling something about how you had been upset nobody had gotten you anything last year, conveniently leaving out the fact he had scared off all the other guys trying to offer you anything.
you were katsukiâs when he grabbed your hand during the winter because he said youâd âend up dying of hypothermia with the way youâre chittering over there.â and you were his when you were the only person he laughed around. loud, genuine laughter that you and only you could squeeze out of him. you were katsukiâs when he randomly kissed you goodnight at your door one night and heâs been doing it ever since, and gets all pouty when you turn away from his kisses to tease him.
âare we dating ?â you had asked him. youâre both in high school now and youâre in his dorm room. your legs are on his lap and heâs got a comfortable grip on your leg, which tightens after he registers your questions âhah?â he looks utterly confused and a little insulted as he looks back at you, his entire face scrunched up in confusion. you pinch his nose and he swats at your hand.
âare we dating ? likeâam i your girlfriend.â you say again and katsukiâs face scrunches up even harder. he huffs and looks back at his phone, landing a little smack on your leg still placed in his lap. â âcourse yer my fuckinâ girlfriend.â he spits out, obviously irritated. then he looks back at you âI havenât made it obvious ?â he says sarcastically. one of his eyebrows lifted as he pokes at your leg still very much in his lap.
you simply shrug âsânot that. itâs just because youâve never actually asked me out before, so i was a little confused on where we stood.â you mumble. he stares at you while you speak and he stares a little longer before sighing. then he leans towards you and flicks your forehead.
âow !â
âdumbass.â he murmurs. thereâs a slight pout on his face and his cheeks are light shade of pink when he looks you in the eyes again. he grabs both your cheeks with one hand and smushes them together to push your lips out and presses multiple wet kisses onto them that have you squealing and squirming. his wet lips are pulled into a smirk when he pulls back and you try your best to at least look a little angry, you really do. but itâs useless when he looks at you like that.
âof course youâre my girlfriendâ he reiterates. his smirkâs been replaced for something softer, something more sincere as he gazes at you with so much unadulterated affection it makes your head spin a little. âyouâve always been mine.â he says it in a teasing tone and his hand is still smushing your cheeks out and it hurts a little but his eyes are still the same. theyâre warm and soft and so, so enamored with you and only you.
when he finally letâs go of your face and pulls you fully into his lap, you realize katsukiâs been yours for as long as youâve been his.
you smile brightly at him but turn your nose up when he leans in to kiss you again. âi still havenât heard what i wanna hear though, mr. bakugou.â
he rolls his eyes and pinches at your thigh as he mumbles out a âdonât call me that.â sighing, he looks at you intensely and you suddenly feel very shy.
âwill you be my girlfriend, ya shitty girl ?â and he says it as a joke, you both know it is cus his lips are already forming into a smirk the second he finishes his sentence. and youâre pulling at his nose the moment you register it, but youâre both smiling hard. he laughs and youâre sure youâll never get tired of the sound. âwhatâs your answer, pretty ?â he asks playfully and you pretend to really think it over just to mess with him, and giggling out a âyes!â when he suddenly pounces on you. flipping you both over and tickling you mercilessly, calling it revenge for you âtaking too damn long to answer.â
youâd been katsukiâs for as long as you can remember, and you hope you can be forever.
#just a silly little thing i wrote in record time in the bus#i love him sm yall dont get him like i do#just silly boyfriend katsuki tingz#him n my oc r childhood friends in my canon so thats why i made this#i love my boyfriend#I didnât know how to end this one either#bakugou katuski x reader#katsuki bakugo fluff#bakugo fluff#bakugou imagine#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugou drabble#bakugou fluff#bakugo x reader#bakugo x you#bakugo x y/n#bakugo x female reader#bakugo x oc
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The idea of the batkids scaring Bruce with âa new grandchildâ to only show an animal is so funny to me, because imagine Bruce is so used to it that when Jason wants to introduce him to his new grandchild Bruce almost falls out of his chair when thereâs an ACTUAL KID!
Dick: Youâre a granddaddy now Brucie!!!
Bruce: WHAT?!? Who?? When??? How??? Actually donât tell me how. Who is she??? When did she give birth???
Dick: What? No, meet my kid *holds up a cat* her name is biscuit and shes the love of my life!
â
Steph: Cass and I are adoptingâŚ
Bruce: Holy shit, actually???
Cass: Yes, it was a tough choice, but we want to adopt
Bruce: Do you need any help with paperwork and stuff? Itâs kinda my thing. Also consider the fact that you might be too young.
Steph: Too young�
Bruce: Yes, I mean youâre only in your 20âs, are you sure you can handle a kid?
Cass: Too young for an iguana?
â
Damian: It happened again, I have a kid.
Bruce: What do you mean AGAIN?!?
Damian: This is my second kid, duh
Bruce: Are you talking about goats?
Damian: Of course I am father
â
Tim: BRUCE YOUâRE GOING TO BE A GRANDFATHER!!!
Bruce: Tim I didnât think I was going to have to tell you this again after the whole thing with Stephanie, but just kissing someone doesnât get them pregnant
Tim:
Bruce: Is it a dog?
Tim: No itâs a tiger
â
Jason: I have something to tell you
Bruce(not looking up from his paperwork): Okay, whatâs up?
Jason: I have a kid, I want you to meet your granddaughter
Bruce: I canât possibly imagine what type of animal youâve gotten, but Iâd love to meet her
Jason: What the hell are you talking about?
Bruce (looking up to see an actual child): You actually have a kid????
Jason: Yeah, Roy and I thought it was time I adopted Lian
Lian: Hi Grandpa!!!
Bruce: Iâm going to faint, grab me some ice will you?
#this has been sitting in my drafts for months now all because i didnt want to tag it#my adhd kicked in#i wrote it all in one go then decided i had better things to do than tags#then i reread it multiple times and decided therr are better things to do than tags#but its just so silly so im manning up and doing it!#here are my awful half alseep tags#that was it#bruce wayne#batman#jason todd#roy harper#damian wayne#tim drake#dick grayson#lian nguyen harper#jason is lians dad obviously#cassandra cain#stephanie brown#stephcass#dc comics#dcu#dc#batkids#man i love batman
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Visions
#i have so much love for botw link#he remembers nothing but the weight of the sword#he is willing to take in incredible amounts of pain and responsibility just to understand himself and his previous life a bit better#its not as if heâs not responsible and courageous#but this iteration of link has lost so much-even before the game it seems taking his destiny has made him quiet#dunno remember who was it who wrote#âthe sword became a needle snd with the thread of destiny; it sew his lipsâ#but apart from the desesperation of looking for a trace of himself in all things#he is also guilty and scared of what his past holds#anyways i should write a fanfic not pour this into tags#botw#breath of the wild#link#legend of zelda#master sword#animation#procreate dreams#link botw
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pin-up
b&w originals
#my art#basslinegrave art#venture bros#dr. girlfriend#dr. mrs. the monarch#the monarch#henchman 21#ok so. pin up and pinned butterflies. tell me thats not the best idea ever#did i manage to pull it off how i wanted? maaybe? i do like these but i wish i had used the same color settings for all#when using the howsitcalled. gradient map things. because they dont look as uniform#but i was lazy to redo dr mrs especially plus i like how she looks i just couldnt get monarch and 21 the same#also somehow these look better and more colorful on my pc?? usually its on my phone i dont know what happened#also i ended up adding one colored thing to each because i first colored in dr. mrs' eyes#then realized the other two dont have colored eyes but 21 has the red lenses. but monarch??#i only went over the logo on his chest a bit with a more reddish color but its not too visible so well#imagine its better and they all match properly...#hope i got the butterfly names right#those were last minute additions after i learned about the viceroy butterfly yesterday#dr mrs is a queen butterfly#ask to tag#suggestive#wanted to put that as one of the top tags but i wrote it with a typo so i hope tumblr picks it up this low#also forgor to say i put my crunch handle on these cause they were meant to go on that blog ignore that#i think i forgot to add one to monarch or i hid it that well lmao#my 2 braincells rubbed the wrong way
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at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"
like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.
"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."
... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.
and i'd still keep writing.
i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.
i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley
"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"
and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.
it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.
you create because you're greedy.
#every time someones like ''AI will replace u" im like. u will have to fucking KILL ME#there is no replacement here bc i am not filling a position. i am just writing#and the writing is what i need to be doing#writeblr#this probably doesn't make sense bc its sooo frustrating i rarely speak it the way i want to#edited for the typo wrote it and then was late to a meeting lol#i love u people who mention my typos genuinely bc i don't always catch them!!!! :) it is doing me a genuine favor!!!#my friend says i should tell you ''thank you beta editors'' but i don't know what that means#i made her promise it isn't a wolf fanfiction thing. so if it IS a wolf thing she is DEAD to me (just kidding i love her)#hey PS PS PS ??? if ur reading this thinking what it's saying is ''i am financially capable of losing this'' ur reading it wrong#i write for free. i always have. i have worked 5-7 jobs at once to make ends meet.#i did not grow up with access or money. i did not grow up with connections or like some kind of excuse#i grew up and worked my fucking ASS OFF. and i STILL!!! wrote!!! on the side!!! because i didn't know how not to!!!#i do not write for money!!!! i write because i fuckken NEED TO#i could be in the fucking desert i could be in the fuckken tundra i could be in total darkness#and i would still be writing pretentious angsty poetry about it#im not in any way saying it's a good thing. i'm not in any way implying that they're NOT tryna kill us#i'm saying. you could take away our jobs and we could go hungry and we could suffer#and from that suffering (if i know us) we'd still fuckin make art.#i would LOVE to be able to make money doing this! i never have been able to. but i don't NEED to. i will find a way to make my life work#even if it means being miserable#but i will not give up this thing. for the whole world.
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pick your battles
#my art#my stuff#art#comic#original art#pride 2024#pride month#trans allegory..... or not even allegory. just trans .... ^_^#i technically cannot come out yet but i don't think the people who i need to not see this stalk my tumblr#i know they stalk everything else like my twitter and my instagram but this might be safe#so fuck it we yap. this is a comic about picking your battles#this is a comic about how for almost a year now everyone at home in singapore has been crying about my sore throat#my terrible fucked up voice. my you know. etc#i came out as not cis and using they/them pronouns in 2015 when i was 14#but no one ever used my pronouns. none of my classmates or friends even up until i left for college in 2020#from 2020 onwards every year i wrote an angry vulnreable essay about how much it hurts that they dont remember#and people would dm me apologizing on their hands and knees and commending my bravery#and then forget about it all over again. id ont mean 'they misgender me and then catch it and apologize and correct themselves'#i mean they dont even get that far#and so you might ask yourself: why have you kept them around all this time?#and i would have to explain that by pure bad luck i grew up in the most conservative close minded community#that all of my ex classmates that stayed in singapore are cishet and upper middle class and chinese singaporean#that i Am the trans person. that they were able to ignore me for a decade partially because there was no one else#so this is a comic about how there is dignity and grace in staying in the closet sometimes#about how not everyone deserves to see you at your happiest. about how some people can go fuck themselves#you know your truth and THATS THE ONLY THING THAT MATTERS!!! YEAH!!! i love you
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Dannymay 2023
15. Full Hazmat AU & 23. Rogue Gallery
#danny phantom#dannymay2023#full hazmat au#rogue gallery#(the thing I love about full hazmat au is that unless Danny shows his face)#(it would be totally reasonable to assume that he is an adult)#(especially if you don't want to believe a child beat you)#comic#(just gonna add this here since it seems to be coming up a lot)#(This is not a fan art of any specific fic!)#(When I do fanart of fanfiction I always link the fic and tag the person who wrote it)#(I know this is not that original idea and people have already linked multiple good fics in reblogs)#(And I'm sure there are probably even more with similar concept)
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it can't be too hard right?
it's easy not to think about things, he tells me i don't think all the time! wait...
â
a scene from a fic that i have no clue if ill finish, let alone post, but look i made fanart of my own thing that doesnt even exist :D
#I DID IT! took longer than i was planning for it to take but shorter than most art#WHICH IS A WIN MY BOOK!!#anyways this is in reference to a scene right after laios calls chilchuck 'chil' for the first time#and he responds to it with no hesitation :]#id say more but i do actually want to challenge myself to write this thing#ahhh i loved working on this. did you know how happy i was. i got to make laios pine AND draw chilchuk 50 times its a win#anyways. laios pining content..... please.... maybe even... jealous laios content.....#chilaios#uhhhm hm. should i tag them individually. sure im proud enough of this#chilchuck#chilchuck tims#i wrote his last name as times again damnit#laios#laios touden#aaaand thats it#ENJOY YOUR FOOD#EAT UP CHILAIOS NATION#also. i linked a youtube video from a third party cause i couldnt find any official spotify links so just deal with that
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Bullshit (part 1/3)
Now on ao3
He should probably get a new car.
He didnât want to. He loved his car, but it wasnât really cool, was it? Preppy cool, maybe, but not my-boyfriend-is-in-a-metal-band cool. It had certainly seen better days too.
Heâd used to reprimand the kids whenever they trailed in dirt and food crumbs or spilled their milkshakes or whatever, but after he stopped doing the same to Eddie, he couldnât really do it to them either. Besides, he didnât want to be a stick in the mud.
It was why heâd thrown out all his Wham! and Tears for Fears cassettes, threw out anything that wasnât Judas Priest or Iron Maiden or whatever else Eddie liked. It was why he boxed away all his brightly colored polos and now just wore the band tees that Eddie let him borrow, why heâd bought some of his own, as well as skinnier dark jeans that he knew Eddie liked the look of his ass in. He even got some bracelets like Eddieâs, and now he actually looked the part of Eddieâs boyfriend and not so much like a sore thumb when he went to all of Eddieâs shows.
The only thing he needed to change, besides his car, was his hair. Heâd been putting it off the longest. He loved his car, but he loved his hair more. He didnât make it quite as styled nowadays, but it was the last part of him that spoke of his former personality. Because he had to change, didnât he? He knew what happened when you didnât make your partner happy. Knew what happened when your love was bullshit and he never wanted Eddie to find him unworthy.
So he liked the things Eddie liked now, he dressed the way Eddie dressed, and he did what Eddie did. If he made Eddie happy, if he didnât make Eddie do anything he didnât want to do, then Eddie wouldnât find fault in Steve. It was simple as that. He knew better now. Because Nancy had broke his heart, but losing Eddie? It would break his soul.
So he needed a new car. Maybe a van like Eddieâs, or would that be too much? A BMW was hardly metal, after all. He needed something cooler. And thenâŚthen he would change his hair.
He would need to figure out what Eddie thought was cool. Needed to figure out what Eddie liked. Should he buzz it? Should he grow it out? He didnât know. Eddie had never brought up hair before. He didnât know what Eddie would prefer. Maybe he could ask Jeff. Heâd known Eddie the longest, after all.
Maybe he should dye it. That would look cool, right?
The others had noticed, of course. Theyâd commented on his new attire, the fact that he didnât listen to his favorite music anymore, that he only seemed to be doing what Eddie wanted to do nowadays. But Eddie just looked happy whenever Steve agreed to whatever movie Eddie wanted to watch, or what to have for dinner, or what to do on Steveâs days off. That was the important part: making Eddie happy.
So Steve just brushed off their concerns, explained it away as saying that he was growing up and his interests were growing. He even played stupid Dungeons and Dragons now, always making certain he got the names correct, always doing his best to play it how Eddie would want him to play it, even if it always gave him a headache afterwards with all the numbers and words and strategizing.
He always put Eddieâs needs first, be it physically, emotionally, or even just recreationally. If Steve did that, if he was good enough, if he became exactly what his partner wanted, maybe he wouldnât lose this. Wouldnât lose Eddie.
Maybe, if Steve made his love good enough, Eddie wouldnât ever say it was bullshit.
-
Now with a part two
#fic: bullshit#warning: I wrote this while sick with covid so it might not be as clear as I would like lmao#steddie angst#eddie is just kind of oblivious to all of steveâs worries but he doesnât want steve to change#steve is just traumatized by past failed relationships#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#plot thots
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Misfortune Teller
tldr: An older Danny, apprentice to Clockwork, does a lot of field work across dimensions, resetting the timeline, queuing future events, and who knows what else. Occasionally, he warns people about such upcoming possibilities, to set them on the right path. How, you might ask? Well in this case... as a wandering fortune teller.
Crack-fic (oh god, it's getting long and my logic brain won't let it remain as crack) where Danny becomes Clockwork's apprentice after getting his GED. Living his infinite afterlife to the fullest. Inspired by this tumblr post.
Working for Clockwork had been... interesting so far. At first, Danny got frustrated by how vague and cryptic Clockwork was. He'd just shunt Danny off to some ancient time with a few words, his own time medallion (Danny carried it everywhere with him now), and then pop back into the portal, leaving Danny with only the faintest idea of where to go.
Eventually, after enough time (ha!) spent around Clockwork, Danny figured out that it just basically meant that he had free reign and to do whatever he wanted. Because if he went on the wrong path, (like that one time in Pompeii when he had almost caused the volcano to explode a few years too early), Clockwork would just pop on by, say another few cryptic words, and then it'd all be fine and dandy, or as he liked to say, "All is as it should be... Now stop practicing your wail by an active volcano."
After telling Jazz about that (it was supposed to be funny, not concerning), she just sighed and shook her head, with a forlorn "think before you act, Danny!" but hey, it'd turned out fine so far, so who cares how he does what Clockwork asks him to do, as long as it gets done, right? Even if it's with a liiiiitle more mischief than strictly required.
Besides. Danny was the one who had been doing time shenanigans across millennia, not Jazz. And he thought he'd been getting pretty good at it too! He'd actually started giving himself a different made-up background for each universe he visited. Sam and Tucker were helping him keep up with the identities on a spreadsheet, so if he had to go back to one he'd already visited, he'd remember who he'd said he was supposed to be.
---
He was on a call with them one evening while haunting Jazz's apartment, doing just that, when he felt a familiar tingle in the back of his throat, as well as a heightened awareness of the seconds passing by, that always accompanied his mentor's appearance.
Sam was talking about his past stint posing as a god of death when he cut in. "Hey- sorry to interrupt, Sam- Clocky's here, guys, I gotta dip."
"Aw, come on! We hardly talked any this past week since you passed your certifications, man," Tucker complained.
Danny rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, yeah. Partly on you too though, you've been caught up outside of class, and Sam's schedule is nearly the opposite of yours."
Sam hummed in agreement despiter Tucker's scoff.
Danny missed hanging out with them as much as they had in high school, but hey, life goes on. Or at least, theirs did, to college. After finally flunking out of Casper High, he'd taken some time to get used to his responsibilities in the ghost zone, and when he had, he realized that he didn't really have much enthusiasm or timeleft for his human life.
And he didn't really want to go back home either.
But Jazz had made him tie up any loose ends before he noped-off to god knows where, which frankly, he had to thank her for. Getting his GED took a few years, but it was an accomplishment that could be attributed to Danny Fenton, no ghostliness required. Then he was able to let that tether go free.
Pulled out of his musings by a few more grumbles from Tucker, Danny said his goodbyes, promising to call the next time they were all available.
After hanging up, Danny swiveled around, anticipation already lighting up his eyes an ethereal green.
Clockwork, for his part, had been waiting patiently through Danny's lengthy goodbyes. Although he supposed that it tracked for the watcher of time to be patient. With his job, it'd be a nightmare if he wasn't.
"Phantom," Clockwork spoke, calm as always. "I have some tasks I need you to complete as my apprentice."
And Danny, always ready for adventure, didn't need him to explain any further. "Sure! When do you need me to be?"
Clockwork smiled at that. "I am fortunate you are eager. Follow me."
---
Danny popped into existence in this universe with a burst of cold air and static electricity. He found himself hovering by a clocktower above a sprawling, gothic city. Smog and light pollution obscured the stars above him, to his disappointment. He comforted himself with the fact that he'd probably have all the time he wanted to fly someplace less populated to see them later.
He started off by familiarizing himself with the city. As he flew, he followed the trail of power and met the resident city-spirit, a spooky- but kind underneath- woman draped in black lace, who told him her name was Gotham. He spoke in length with her about this universe, its heroes, and her knights. On that, she was very enthusiastic... or at least Danny thought she was, her projected emotions belaying much more than her gloomy exterior. She told him how her knights had been through a lot and would need some guidance fighting the darkness that pooled in her deepest corners, smiling with too much glee, filling lungs with fear, and terrorizing with cold hard bullets.
Danny could sense that the dangers she spoke of were growing in power, ever slowly. The longer they shadowed people's minds and hearts, an intangible thing grew that lent them more otherworldly pull than their physical forms had right to hold.
That must be what he was sent here for.
But... they were weak, pitifully so for him, infinite king as he was. And besides, he wasn't here in that sense. He was a messenger, a simple apprentice. And he could do this however he wanted.
Cue his talk with Lady Gotham, and subsequent idea to arm her knights. With what? Well, he figured knowledge would be a start. Flying high above the city invisibly, Danny noticed a sea of colors and lights by what appeared to be the city's pier. He flew down, noting that it appeared to be the setup spot for a travelling circus or carnival of some kind.
He considered what to do. One of Lady Gotham's troubles was a madman clown, right? Well maybe he'd be attracted to his ilk here... and with the danger came the knights. Maybe he could catch one of them here?
Danny was floating around at the entrance and beginning to formulate a plan when a flyer caught his eye. Looking for a mystic to read fortunes. URGENT!
Hadn't Clockwork said something about fortunes? And he hadn't made an identity in this universe yet...
A mischievous smile crept across Danny's face, splitting it in two with far too many teeth.
---
Half a city away, a man in all black, perched on the very same clocktower that Phantom had Appeared by, shivered as he felt an ominous premonition about his sanity in the near future...
Said man quickly opened his comms to check in with his many, many kids. Yet even after hearing back from each, he still felt apprehensive.
Somewhere even further, Clockwork laughed.
---
And that's how Danny found himself seated at a fortune teller's booth at a pier in Gotham, two days later, for the Tricksy Traveling Circus's grand opening.
#dpxdc#dp x dc#mine#is-this-even-relatable writes#is-this-even-relatable prompt#writing prompt#i wanna write this#prompt#prompt for me#I welcome anyone who wants to add to it#this is the first time I consider to be actually writing something#I wrote this all in one sitting just now#it WILL be continued... ideally#I am just busy and would rather post a lot of short blurbs than wait and do one long post#reposting this as its own post and removing the other as a comment on the inspo.#I was planning for this to be crack but I can't just let sleeping dogs lie#man fml my dumb brain always wants an explanation for things and can't accept âjust becauseâ which would be wayyyy easier
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