#love is a burning thing

[sunsestart]

Frilliam:]

Fiddleford just keeps gifting things to Ford AAAAA😭

[lotus-pear]

he's so crazy we can't take him anywhere 😭🤣

[imfinereallyy]

you can pry happy endings from my cold-dead hands. It can be the most heart stopping, gut wrenching fic that has every existed and I will read every drop of it if I get my happy ending. I have had enough painful endings in real life, give me happy in my fantasy world. It can be at the last second, it can be a single sentence, even a single word. Give me all the angst and hurt in the world for 500,000 words, but please give me the comfort I need in the ending. please and thank you.

[planariaareneat]

How The Nocturnal Bottleneck and Nipples Make Us Human

Almost every post here considers what humans do have, really. It’s a little tiring; realistically every world has its harsh environments and vicious species and a sophont to match. We probably wouldn’t be unique for our adaptability or our persistence or even adrenaline

But our evolution is fucked up as hell, to put it lightly.

Mammals went through what’s been dubbed the nocturnal bottleneck essentially since the start of the mesozoic right up until the Cretaceous ended the archosaur’s exclusive hold over the daylight. We lost a lot of things from every mammal spending most of its time in either a cramped, suffocating burrow or scrounging around in the faint hours of nighttime. Our blood cells lost their nuclei to hold more oxygen while we spent time deep underground, we lost protections against ultraviolet rays in our skin and eyes, we can’t even repair our own DNA using the light of the sun. Most aliens probably wouldn’t have such traits unless their evolution followed a very similar path to ours. They’d be able to see ultraviolet and wouldn’t have to worry about sunburn and all the wonderful privileges essentially all fish, birds, amphibians, and reptiles enjoy as we speak. 

There’s also what we gained from spending so much time in the dark.

Brown fat is only found in mammals, it’s a special type of fat which bear cells with several oil droplets and are utterly jammed with mitochondria. This lets it make heat, a lot of it, fast. We don’t even need to shiver to induce this heat generation from brown adipose tissue - factor in our downright hyperactive mitochondria, and we can warm up quickly. Sure, it doesn’t have too much use in adult humans, but it keeps our infants warm and still provides a little boost the whole run we have in this universe.

Unless aliens also went through a time where their small ancestors had to face cold nights, they’d have to produce heat the old fashioned way when chilled. Aliens might have to shiver the whole time they’re in a cold room while the human watches in confusion, quite literally unshaken, and wonders if the room is a lot colder than the thermostat set to 60 says. The aliens stare at their companion in confusion, it’s just a normal temperature to shiver at after all, how is the human sitting so still?

Our small ancestors spending all their time out foraging at night is also why we have such a good sense of touch, smell, and hearing. They were more important senses than vision (we’re lucky to have even redeveloped basic color vision, frankly) at the time and place and simply ended up continuing to serve us well. Birds and reptiles rarely have acute senses of smell and the latter especially are lucky to have acute hearing, and birds rarely have impeccable hearing themselves either. Our skin is free of scales and honed to sensitivity, and our external ears and complicated ear bones provide an immense range of hearing (from 20 all the way to 17,000 hertz!).

Aliens might not be able to pin down the chirp of a cricket or the light click of a lock being picked. The human might be the only one on board a ship that can pick out the finer sounds of the engine’s constant thrum and know the critical difference between when everything is fine and when something is wrong. The human could probably pick out the sounds of an approaching enemy’s careless footsteps - they’re only as light enough for *them* to stop hearing them, after all - and be the one to see the horrified expression (well, more on that later) on their face when we get the drop on them in spite of their perceived stealth. 

But perhaps the most versatile, convoluted, amazing, and utterly unique trait we have is right on your face this instant. Lips.

Lips in most animals are a simple seal to hold in the mouth’s moisture and protect the teeth, even if they’re supple they’re NEVER muscular except in mammals, and we have only one thing to thank for it; milk and nipples. Lips evolved exclusively to allow babies to suckle, it required a vacuum to be created in the mouth, and with no other animal having anything like a nipple it never happened in other animals. Many animals make milk, to be frank, but no other animal has nipples.

Your cheeks and lips are a marvel among tetrapods, no other animal can suck like mammals can. Aliens wouldn’t have straws or even be able to sip from the edge of a glass, they’d have to have a proboscis or simply tilt the whole thing back. Aliens likely won’t have woodwind instruments or balloons you can blow into. We take so much about our lips for granted. Hell, our muscular faces are vital for expressions, we’re probably absolute facial contortionists among a cast of creatures with mandibles and beaks and expressionless scaly maws. Aliens might find us ridiculously easy to read, if anything, compared to their own kind (all the better to deceive them) - or perhaps they’d find us hard to decipher anyways, with our lack of color-changing skin or erectable crests of bright feathers. Baring teeth might not be seen as a sign of aggression in most of the universe, smiling would be all too distinctly human. 

Perhaps with how infectious we are sometimes, that’s what we’d contribute to the universe; others might have to make do with opening their mouths just enough to show their teeth or splaying their innumerable mouthparts with just the right curve, but perhaps we’d teach the galaxy to smile, one ally at a time. 

Wouldn’t that be amazing?

[dappy-dappernette]

I keep on hearing people go all "The voice of the Smitten is such a creep. All he wants in the princess is someone to control and keep as a pretty object. He'd drop the princess if she wasn't the perfect petite maiden like in the damsel route." and I will not stand for the Smitten slander.

Like- He's been in love with her as a burning corpse ghost lady:

A terrifying ghost woman who wants to bring fear and chaos to the world:

And even a murderous blade monster woman who would kill you and enjoy every second of it:

Like, he ALWAYS loves the princess no matter what she looks like or how she acts, he loves her for being herself no matter what or who she is. That's the point of his character and I'm tired of people slandering my boy.

[somewhereincairparavel]

JASON GRACE PLAYS LACROSSE AND TENNIS. I CAN'T AND WON'T BE NORMAL ABOUT THIS-

[somnoir]

Demon Twins and Death

Inspired by this post by @spiders-in-the-primrose

Damian had spent years loathing Danyal. The weaker, pathetic son. The son who did not have what it took to carry the name Al Ghul. The twin who had died and was swallowed by the Lazarus pits, never to be seen again.

The twin Damian killed.

His brother had welcomed death with tears and sobs. His last words were stained by the blood he choke out, "It had to be you, akhi." He whispered as the blood spilled from his mouth and a sword was pressed further into his stomach.

When he was sent to his father, he remained with his belief in being the better son. That Danyal was not worthy of being the son of the demon and the son of the bat. He could have been one but in the end, only Damian was worthy for both.

And yet as the years passed, Damian grew and changed. And then he finally understood.

In his family of heroes, his family who strived to make the world better—Danyal would have been a better fit. Instead, Damian had been the one to become his father's son with his own twin's blood on his hands. His father must never know.

The idea of Danyal sparks rage, resentment, and utterly self-loathing. His kind and sweet brother who would have been the perfect son for his father. The son who was clearly the better person. Not in skill, power—but morals. Because like their father, Danyal would never kill.

What would have happened if Danyal was here with him? If he were still alive?

Damain can imagine his brother in the colors that Robin wore, another costume, another name. Because Damian will not give up that name after he managed to take it from Drake. But Danyal would have work the colors, would have been bubbly like Grayson. He would have taken care of the children on the streets like Todd. He would have helped their father in cases like Drake.

He would have been the brother they would have wanted.

And Damian tries not to drown in what his brother could have been. He can't help but admire this figment of his imagination. This hero in his kind that wore what could have been Danyal's face. This light within the darkness of Gotham who had a voice identical to Damian's.

And Damian does drown. Because he wants what his brother could have been.

Danyal Al Ghul died by the hands of his brother.

In the back of his mind, he thinks that he just wants his other half back.

Danny Fenton was born as the girl who would be his sister dragged him from a lake and nursed him to health.

The Fentons were strange people with strange ideals. Jack and Maddie were obsessed, they were not suited to care for children as they grabbed their weapons and hunted down any ghost their could find. When they were absent, Danny was left with Jasmine.

The memory of Damian is strong and cruel and it burned itself into his mind. The memory of that katana sinking into his gut, just as blood bubbles up his throat. He remembers an older brother who had to be the one to kill him.

He remembers and then he looks to Jasmine. She is warmth incarnate, with fiery hair and bright eyes that reminded him of stars on painting. His parents lack the warmth he craves but Jazz gives him so much that he can't help but melt everytime he's in her arms.

Neither of them can forget how fearful he was towards her when she first found him. He had only been six years old, feeling the effects of the Lazarus pit on his skin before he was spat out somewhere far, far away. He remembered being in Nanda Parbat then he was spat out somewhere in Illinois.

Jasmine had found him. Jazz had found him.

And Danny has decided long ago that Jazz was much better than Damian.

Even from the distance between them, Danyal continues to fear Damian. The part of him that he wished died when his own twin stabbed him to death continued to live on.

Then he died.

Again.

And he can't help but hope that Danyal is finally dead. That the failure was finally dead. His body only needed two. He only needed Danny and Phantom. Yes... Danyal was dead.

Danny would kill that part of him himself if he could.

He donned the mantle of hero, even when the people called him a menace at times. Danny was finally a hero, he was finally someone who could do good in the world. It was a blessing for him.

In all honesty, being a hero had been fun, even as he suffered. His rogues that fought him felt like friends that he had missed in his life. Parts of him yearned for when Skulker came out for a fight. He laughed whenever Ember moved to blast her music through the town and he was forced to fight her. He was fond of both Kitty and Johnny, even when they fought and caused havoc. Trouble felt like home for once.

The half of him that was dead yearned for a fight, yearned for an obsession. Protection—he was told—was his own obsession.

To protect, to fight, to make sure that whatever fell into his obsession was safe and sound. He thinks of Amity Park—his haunt, his domain—and assumed it was what he wanted to protect. He had fought Pariah Dark, became King through conquest and continued to protect.

But a part of him knew that something was wrong. He knew that it wasn't Amity Park that he would protect at all cost. No.

It was always Jazz. Always his big sister who cradled him, who figured out he was Phantom, who could tell whether he was himself or not. The greatest part of his obsession fell onto the older sibling who loves him unconditionally, always reminding him that there was another half of him in the world that killed him. But Jazz was none of that.

Danny loved his family. He loved Elle who grew to be his little sister. He loved his parents even when they were difficult. He loved his friends—Sam, Tucker, Valerie. He loved them so dearly and yet they could never match up to Jazz.

Danny doesn't know what he'd do without her.

(Lies. He knew what would happen if Jazz was taken from her. He knew what kind of monster he'd become—one that the observants demanded to be killed. He knew damn well that Jazz Fenton was the only thing that kept him human.)

(Dan existed for a reason.)

(Danny would burn the world for his sister.)

(And he'd kill himself for fear of his brother.)

Fate is a cruel mistress that knew what she was doing. Twins were tied by blood, mind, and soul. An invisible thread that made sure they were connected one way or another. He shouldn't be surprised that they were going to be reunited at some point.

Danny Fenton and Damian Wayne meet.

It's been years. They've changed. They've become new people. Damian is Robin, the son of the bat (not heir to the demons head). Danny is Phantom, High King of the Infinite Realms (not the failure devoured by the Lazarus).

But that doesn't stop Danyal Al Ghul from drowning in fear at the mere visage of Damian Al Ghul.

Danny plays as ambassador, not king. He won't risk himself by telling people who he truly is. He can't. No.

When he summoned and claims that he is an ambassador sent as a substitute, the Justice League accepts what they are given and pleaded for aid.

But Robin is there with Batman. Robin and Phantom meet.

Robin sees Danyal and Phantom sees his murderer.

The moment his body was no longer frozen, Damian sucked in a deep breath as he stared at the face of his own beloved twin. His brother that died by his hands and was claimed by the pits. Had the Lazarus turned him into a creature of the realms?

"Danyal..." Robin sounded hopeful, desperate. He reached forward and almost crossed the circle if not for his father and Nightwing pulling him back with confusion and concern. They look towards the Ghostly being with a face that resembled their father and youngest a little too much.

Danny? Had he been human, his heart would have stopped after ricocheting. He stopped breathing, rendering his lungs useless. This was Damian. A hero of his own right even when he was a monster in Danny's eyes.

Danyal Al Ghul feared Damian.

Phantom was a manifestation of something of Danyal's death.

"You mistake me for someone, Heir to the Demon's head." His voice tore through air, distorted by his own will. Danny was king, he had to remind himself that.

"I am a manifestation. I am born from a concept and emotion. You would not have met me." The lies were not lies. Truths bended to his will as he spoke and pressed against the barrier made by the summoning circle. "But you recognize this body that I have taken form in."

"Then your appearance belonged to a living person." Batman growled.

Danny realizes that this was his father. Perhaps Ra's was right at some point—blood calls to blood.

"What have you done to Danyal?! Where is my twin brother, demon!" Robin's words leak venom as he slams a hand against the barrier.

Danyal tremblesPhantom was amused.

"Bats, tell your brat to back off! That's the ghost king's fuckin' ambassador." The Hellblazer hissed, watching as Batman pulled his son away.

But Damian—Robin—stands still.

Phantom grinned, flashing his teeth as he leaned closed to the barrier. Even when his appearance was born of inverted colors with Lazarus eyes rather than the sky, Damian could recognize his twin's face anywhere.

Both of them knew what happened to Danyal. Killed by his own brother.

But only Phantom knew what happened after.

"Oh little bird... I killed him."

Masterpost

[symphonyofsilence]

What drives me even more insane about this scene is how you'd expect Gojo to imagine High school era! Geto in the crowd. Or at least not the cult leader, worst of all the curse users Geto Suguru. But no, it's the cult leader Geto. It's Geto as Gojo last remembered him. As Geto last was. Whatever choices Geto made, wherever his choices led him and them, however he was, whoever he was, traumas and messed up ideas and bad choices and ill reputations and scorns and all. Gojo wanted Geto Suguru there. Not any ideal version. Not any "what if" version. Not any "at some point in time before things went downhill" version. Not any "when your hands weren't stained with innocent blood" version. He knew very well what he wanted. And he wanted it all the same. He wanted Geto Suguru. However he was. He just wanted him to be there. He just wanted him to be.

And he didn't want him to help him, he didn't want him to fight with him even if they were strongest together and always fought together for a while. He just wanted him to be there in the crowd and cheer him on. He just wanted him to stand there and give him one of his sweet, heartwarming smiles that shaped his eyes into crescent moons. He just wanted him to be. Then even if Gojo had died in the end anyway, he would have been satisfied. It would have been worth it. Only if Geto was there.

[cheeseburger443]

-I don't think Frollo would look good in a suit. I mean look at him...he's too skinny-

-Is that a challenge??

-No, I just think-

-Challenge accepted.

◻️◼️

Bonus lol

Nah he's perfect in it. I'm his tailor 😏

[urfriendlywriter]

What are reasons for characters to slow dance? I mean it's not the prom and they're not royalty at a ball... so what to do? I love the slow dancing trope, especially if it's too a special song, but when do people actually slow dance? This is coming from someone who has no night life or social life but the people I write about do. So do you have any good reasons for a slow dance scene?

Reasons for characters to slow dance :

(girly lemme help u)

because dancing is their love language.

because their favorite song is playing. even it's in the middle of a supermarket.

maybe cus their partner is looking absolutely adorable in the kitchen at 3 in the morning baking cookies and humming to their favorite song?

at candle light dinners. [what else are lovers supposed to do?]

at a stay-at-home date night.

under the rain.

during sunsets just because the light is hitting their s/o in a beautiful way.

in a party, away from all the chaos, in their own lil bubble.

slow dancing just to hold them close. duh.

while getting ready in the dressing room. not slow dancing, but u get the vibe. blasting a TS song. [very cutesy.]

after tying da knottt [very mindful]

in the middle of the road, infront of ur car's headlight. while music plays from inside the car.

cause u have just moved in together, the house is empty and yall are so in love.

at prom, at anniversaries, birthdays, balls and parties.

slowing dancing with their parents?! on a memorable day/event.

or with ur friends at ur/their send off party, or like at ur/their wedding. cause why not?

[fumifooms]

The world must know about french Chilchuck’s chuckles

[s-aint-elmo]

Falin has been nearsighted since she was little, and has a habit of squinting when she's looking at things. —Delicious in Dungeon World Guide: The Adventurer's Bible

she should have been at the optometrist's

(ID in alt text)

[tenderjock]

I’m with you, my love The lights shining through on you Yes, I’m with you, my love It’s the morning and just we two

[nyaskitten]

Okay, after a bit, I've realized what exactly is off with Zhen to me. It's not the voice (although Awkwafina's voice is... very grating to put it as politely blunt as possible,) no, it's the overall design. I'm not here to be all nitpicky and annoying, but genuinely, her design feels out of place in this universe. Kung Fu Panda's designs are so heavily shape-focused, their shapes and sizes are so unique and special to them! So when you bring someone like Zhen, who looks ripped straight from Zootopia, it just feels... lame. And It's not like this applies to ANY of the new characters we see either!!! Look at the Chameleon vs. Zhen!

The Chameleon has this unique shape to her, she's so skinny, her shape intentionally reduces her fear factor, she's small and puny, so thus she would also be weak, no? But you're WRONG, she's a more powerful threat than you could imagine! Meanwhile with Zhen I can't even tell if she's a fox or a wolf, like I had to go to the wiki just to find out she's even a fox!

All her design tells me about her is she's some bandit or something... again, Kung Fu Panda is KNOWN for its unique shapes and sizes, it's stylization is something to gawk and marvel at, with just how GOOD they are... and Zhen just doesn't deliver... which really sucks, especially if the theory of her being the new "Dragon Warrior" is true...

[mari-lair]

drawing 'your clock is ticking' scenes that plague my mind to motivate myself to get back to writing

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Embrace the truth

[First] Prev <–-> Next