#serendipitiousness

[mrserendipitous]

BLOODRUSH STAR PLAYERS!!!!

[skellagirl]

Gordon/Barney/Alyx is really really funny to me conceptually bc it's like, two hot geniuses in their 20s who look at the 40-something smartass who hangs around and go 'yeah that guy. we both want him carnally'

[whereimfeminine]

.

[homunculus-argument]

More random Story Ideas That I'll Probably Never Pick Up Because Of The Research, I once though it would be funny to write a story set in the 1700s featuring all sorts of "no that was actually a thing back then" historical stuff that's never featured in historical settings of this era because it doesn't feel like it should, and a mashup of all sorts of things. Also because I like "local idiot serendipitiously finds himself in unlikely places"-plots, the protagonist is a finnish idiot.

I had no real plot beyond this, but the beginning scene has the protagonist in trial for witchcraft. His asshole neighbour sued him after a fist fight, because the protagonist had kicked him in the back and accidentally knocked some mildly dislocated vertebrae in his spine back into the right place while cursing at him. The finnish language uses several terms for Satan as casual curse words, so the neighbour claims that the protagonist called upon the powers of Satan to heal him as he yelled ootko ny saatana paikallas, and while the cursing was taken out of context, there were still witnesses that agree they heard the protagonist call the devil's name, and the man with the famously crooked back suddenly stood upright as he got up.

The protagonist announces - in court - that had he known that he could fix the neighbour's crooked back by kicking it while cursing, he would have kicked him in his crooked head instead. This is taken as an admission of guilt. I have no idea where the story would even go from here.

[voraciousvore]

Voretober Day 16: Serendipity

How serendipitious, to have a shipload of completely helpless prey delivered right to you

Day 1 | Previous (15) | Next (17)

[cssns]

Please give a warm welcome to @theartofdreaming1 to the CSSNS!

Please welcome @theartofdreaming1 to CSSNS!

How long have you been in the CS/OUAT fandom?

I've been into OUAT since it started airing in Germany in 2012 - but since I preferred watching it in English, I kinda had to wait until I could buy the DVDs for my viewing pleasure... So I've been more of a passive fan, dipping in and out of the fandom whenever the mood struck... And these past few months, the OUAT/CS mood has been thoroughly rekindled ;)

When did you start shipping Captain Swan?

With the beginning of season 3, I think (definitely was intrigued by the idea of CS early on in season 2, but I think I only fully committed to CS when the Neverland arc began)

What drew you to this event?*

It's been a while since I've had the time to participate in a fandom event, so it's been really serendipitious that this event coincided with me catching another bout of OUAT-fever and having finally handed in my BA thesis :)

What inspired your topic?

Mermaids are some of my favorite supernatural/mythological beings and I haven't gotten around to drawing mermaids in a while, soo... (plus, I think it fits nicely with the nautical theme Killian's got going on, lol)

If you would like to share a snippet/sneak peek/summary of your fic or artwork, please use the space below.

It's still in the early stages... I'm still deciding whether I want to go for an Enchanted Forest setting or a modern setting (kinda Shape of Water-vibes; maybe with Killian as a marine biologist?)

For our artists: What kind of art do you like to do? Picsets, painting, digital, etc? Feel free to give as much info as you like.

Digital art/illustration

What are you looking forward to most about participating in this event?

Getting to know some more fellow OUAT/CS fans, collaborating on a bigger project... and getting to draw some Captain Swan, of course! ;)

@theartofdreaming1 will be doing artwork for @beckettj dropping on 7/1 and her own original artwork drops on 7/15. Make sure to say hi to her on Tumblr and on Discord!

[art-of-mathematics]

Title: "Low-effort art paired with coincidence and a pinch of silly"

(Aka: These store-bought carrots that look funny were a serendipitious grab, as i find them wholesome. )

[galactic-academia]

There is a fury to Terry Pratchett’s writing: it’s the fury that was the engine that powered Discworld. It’s also the anger at the headmaster who would decide that six-year-old Terry Pratchett would never be smart enough for the 11-plus; anger at pompous critics, and at those who think serious is the opposite of funny; anger at his early American publishers who could not bring his books out successfully.

The anger is always there, an engine that drives. By the time Terry learned he had a rare, early onset form of Alzheimer’s, the targets of his fury changed: he was angry with his brain and his genetics and, more than these, furious at a country that would not permit him (or others in a similarly intolerable situation) to choose the manner and the time of their passing.

And that anger, it seems to me, is about Terry’s underlying sense of what is fair and what is not. It is that sense of fairness that underlies Terry’s work and his writing, and it’s what drove him from school to journalism to the press office of the SouthWestern Electricity Board to the position of being one of the best-loved and bestselling writers in the world.

It’s the same sense of fairness that means that, sometimes in the cracks, while writing about other things, he takes time to punctiliously acknowledge his influences – Alan Coren, for example, who pioneered so many of the techniques of short humour that Terry and I have filched over the years; or the glorious, overstuffed, heady thing that is Brewer’s Dictionary of Phrase and Fable and its compiler, the Rev E Cobham Brewer, that most serendipitious of authors. Terry once wrote an introduction to Brewer’s and it made me smile – we would call each other up in delight whenever we discovered a book by Brewer we had not seen before (“’Ere!’ Have you already got a copy of Brewer’s A Dictionary of Miracles: Imitative, Realistic and Dogmatic?”)

Terry’s authorial voice is always Terry’s: genial, informed, sensible, drily amused. I suppose that, if you look quickly and are not paying attention, you might, perhaps, mistake it for jolly. But beneath any jollity there is a foundation of fury. Terry Pratchett is not one to go gentle into any night, good or otherwise.

He will rage, as he leaves, against so many things: stupidity, injustice, human foolishness and shortsightedness, not just the dying of the light. And, hand in hand with the anger, like an angel and a demon walking into the sunset, there is love: for human beings, in all our fallibility; for treasured objects; for stories; and ultimately and in all things, love for human dignity.

Or to put it another way, anger is the engine that drives him, but it is the greatness of spirit that deploys that anger on the side of the angels, or better yet for all of us, the orangutans.

Terry Pratchett is not a jolly old elf at all. Not even close. He’s so much more than that. As Terry walks into the darkness much too soon, I find myself raging too: at the injustice that deprives us of – what? Another 20 or 30 books? Another shelf-full of ideas and glorious phrases and old friends and new, of stories in which people do what they really do best, which is use their heads to get themselves out of the trouble they got into by not thinking? Another book or two of journalism and agitprop? But truly, the loss of these things does not anger me as it should. It saddens me, but I, who have seen some of them being built close-up, understand that any Terry Pratchett book is a small miracle, and we already have more than might be reasonable, and it does not behoove any of us to be greedy.

I rage at the imminent loss of my friend. And I think, “What would Terry do with this anger?” Then I pick up my pen, and I start to write.

Extracted from Neil Gaiman’s introduction to A Slip of the Keyboard: Collected Non-fiction by Terry Pratchett

[timehascomeagain]

On the train home I started reading my bronte book and started a chapter where the heroine ended up in london and I had no idea she went to the city and I just wanted to cry. it felt so serendipitious so sweet and true. "I wanted to know, whoever I was, I was alive for a little while."

[ottopilot-wrote-this]

Coven: that's a wrap

I finished the Halloween story at the witching hour on the dot, and frankly, I think that fucking rules.

This is the longest, most ambituous story I've written since maybe the fifth grade. And if I pull it off, it's just the first domino in a larger project I've been brewing for over a year now.

I want to give a quick couple of shout-outs:

shout out to @subliminalbo, who I've read for many years but have somehow become friends with seemingly by chance. Last year, serendipitiously, he posted about his writing process and I must have took that shit to heart, because I proceeded to just pour out words for hours about an idea I had just been kicking around in my head, the story alluded to above. Of course, tragedy stuck in the form of a deactivation, and the first two chapters of Coven were lost (though, I promise, the story is much better now for it).

shout out to Xenos, whose fantastic Stable Diffusion models I am greatly indebted to. Again, fate would have it he messed up and posted an absolute nightmare fuel checkpoint on accident, but that's what caught my eye in the first place. It turns out what we have in common is we are both hypno/MC veterans (he wrote on EMCSA) with designs on using generative AI for bigger mixed-media products (his vision is in gaming). He also has a Discord where I've spent a lot of my time in Tumblr Exile meeting some other cool people.

shout out to @foreverlostinspirals for reading and reblogging this story. I jokingly said she is like Sigourney Weaver when she was the Ghostbusters' only client. She has been very sweet and supportive when I resort to self-deprecating comments about my writing.

I have 8% battery, so I'll thank my wife, not just for her love but her patience. I know she rolls her eyes when I am working on this when I need to be doing other things, but she does so with love and support to let me do my own thing sometimes. Even though it is highly unlikely she'd read this, I love you.

Probably a short hiatus from stories while I take a breather and organize thoughts, and I have a couple fun things planned, but you can find me on @ottopilotreturns, because I am an internet addict with no boundaries! TTFN.

[at1nys-blog]

1: Dear… whatever

Serendipitious /ˌsɛrənˈdɪpɪtəs/ ┕━☽【​𝒶𝒹𝒿𝑒𝒸𝓉𝒾𝓋𝑒】 ​"𝑜𝒸𝒸𝓊𝓇𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓇 𝒹𝒾𝓈𝒸𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝒷𝓎 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒾𝓃 ​𝒶 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓎 𝑜𝓇 𝒷𝑒𝓃𝑒𝒻𝒾𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁 𝓌𝒶𝓎 "𝒶 𝓈𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓃𝒹𝒾𝓅𝒾𝓉𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓇"

wc: 2042

Sometimes being the youngest of the family is not always a good thing. Yes, you might have plenty of advantages, and you can totally get away with basically everything if you can play the puppy’s eye card, but when love is involved? Trust me, don’t say anything about it to your over, and I mean over, over protective brothers, or your life would be turned into a living hell.

Now you are wondering, “Alice, why are you telling us this?” and you have all the rights in this world, and on Mt. Olympus, to be confused because where is the context you need? Is coming, I promise. So let me start from the very beginning of how I, Alice Miyazawa, Herme’s daughter, acknowledged Michael Yew, Apollo’s son, as more as a fellow half-blood.

Everything started one morning where I was sure, 100% sure, it was going like every other day—spoilers: I was wrong. I woke up, got ready for a beautiful day of training, eating, and maybe a nice swim in the lake, and of me finding out one of my brothers cofcof TravisStoll cofcof did hide my new bow and arrows set, so of course, like the prototype of the Hermes’ kid that I am, I needed to get back at him.

My joke backfired on me. Listen, I might be a child of THE prankster on Mt. Olympus, but when I don’t have my partner in crime, Julia, sometimes taking on THE prankster of Camp Half-Blood is not even worth the game. And you know what they say, “like father, like son” am I right?

By the way, I try to prank Travis for stealing my precious gift from my mother; I fail, myserably to be honest, and I end up chasing my brother around the summer camp all over while the other half-bloods were trying to train in peace. Now, before I go on about the hole-chasing situation, let me tell you all something about being in the way of a Ares’ kid and their daily training: they will insult you. This is because I did get insulted by Sherman Yang so much that I thought my dad was coming down here to ask him nicely to stop it.

I pay him no attention at all; I mean, I had to get to my brother as soon as possible, and besides, this is not the first time Sherman is cursing me and my family (his family too, by the way) this much, so another day of the poor Ares’ son mad at me is nothing new.

As is no news to anyone at camp that my brain cells don’t work sometimes…

Okay, they don’t work most of the time…

They never work, fine, but this doesn’t mean is my fault, again I took after my dad, you know the saying “like father, like daughter”… I guess. But I am not here to talk about the level of intelligence I got from my divine parent, even because if that was the case this was going to be one line long.

Back at me telling you this story, so my disfunctional brain sees my brother rushing inside Cabin 7, the Apollo’s one, and instead of ambushing him at the back of the cabin —yes, Travis is a pretictable creature— I decided to follow him straight into the lion’s den. Worst decision ever, not that I am known for making good decisions, but still…

Entering, I almost hit one of the occupants of the cabin with the door, but they prevent getting hit by moving away as soon as possible. Jumping from one bed to the other to get to Travis is not what I was expecting to do today. And besides, how many Apollo’s kids are out there? (Is speaking the daughter of Hermes, who lives in a cabin with infinite floors because otherwise, everyone wouldn’t even fit inside) the second my brother saw me approaching him, he, of course, had to use whoever was on his radar as his personal shield. I don’t care. Using a fellow half-blood won’t and will never stop me from reaching out to him and showing him how mad I am.

Me and Travis started a game of tag, moving left and right around poor Michael—I realized later it was him—because I needed to catch that man and he needed to avoid me. After some minutes, Michael has to physically stop me. I gave him a death clange. How dare he to stop my mission to get to my brother?

-Just stop this…- He said, -take whatever you need to do out of here, please.- In that moment, my brother was forgotten in a little corner waiting; I had to deal with Michael now.

-Shut it, Yew. This has nothing to do with you.- I stated. I know, I know. I was in his residence and not mine, but I couldn’t be seen threatened. I know I wasn't, but I was dead in the wrong to say it had nothing to do with him because it had a lot to do with him.

He flicked my forehead. Can y’all believe the audacity of that man? Flicking my forehead, just for your information, I did get a small bruise that day.

-It has to do with me considering this…- He said, gesturing at the place around us. -…is my cabin. Your brother is using me as a human shield, and I am the one half naked and still wet from the shower I just took. So yes, is about me too.- That’s when I realized his conditions. His torso out for everyone to see, still wet, and a single towel to prevent him from being like his mother brought him into this world.

-You… do have a point. Sorry.- I looked at Travis, and I gave him another death glance; the situation required me to give him a death glance every five seconds. I mean, he stole my archery set, death glance. Used my prank against me, death glance; made me chase him around the camp, death glance; and got me to be a complete fool in front of Michael, another death glance. Not that I mind looking stupid in front of him; I am sure I made myself look stupid in front of him already, but is one thing if I know he is watching me, another if I don’t know it. -And I am sure I need to apologize for the inconvenience.- I added, and Travis did start snickering.

-Well? I am waiting.- The son of Apollo said, waiting for me to go on. That bastard. He wanted me to say I was sorry out loud, while the entire cabin was there. Looking behind him, I notice Travis left from the window, taking advantage of the fact I wasn’t paying attention to him. I didn’t apologize; at least I didn’t voice it as he wanted me to; instead, I ran outside from the entrance, again, jumping from one bed to another, avoiding bumping into people.

After another run throughout half the camp, Travis was able to find “political asylum” behind Luke the second he walks into our cabin. The head of the cabin knows that it is better to not let me get near Travis for any reason at all.

-What in the gods’ names is happening here?- In an attempt to keep me at bay and prevent me from killing Travis, Luke asked.

Hearing Luke’s voice, Connor popped out from his bunk bed, asking what was going on, as if Luke hadn’t done so already.

-Travis here wants to have an audience with Hades so freaking bad.- I said, and yes, I did my best to reach my obnoxious brother, who was trying to avoid catching my hands.

-Why?- As he jumped down his bed and approached me, Connor asked. -What did he do?-

-I did absolutely nothing.- His words made me even angrier than before. I had to inhale deeply, by the way.

-You did NOTHING? You're so dead, man.- He began to laugh, and I would have strangled him at this point if Luke and Connor hadn't kept us apart. After I calmed down and took a deep breath, Connor let me go once he was certain that I didn't want to exact revenge on his older brother.

-You two. Stop this.- Luke pointed at me, giving me a look. I know what it means: stop it. -Explain. NOW.-

-Travis is annoying and stupid. He made me look like a fool in front of a son of Apollo, if not the whole cabin at this point.- When I saw him looking confused at my words, I had to calm down or I was going to lose my temper. Again UGGGHHHH.

Luke could sense it, and I like to refer to this ability of his as the ‘Older Brother Sixth Sense’. Long story short, he knows everything when it comes to the Hermes’ cabin; every thought, every emotion, every problem is under his radar in an instant. I do what he instructed me to do—tell him everything that happened. I started from the beginning, even because where else should I start? From the end? I don’t think so. By the way, I tell him how this morning I couldn’t find my archery set and how I realized that Travis was the one responsible for its loss.

-Now that I think of it, I still don’t know where the set is. Travis? Where is it?-

-I have no idea what you are talking about.- He smiled devilishly as he spoke.

-The archery set I received from my mother? The expensive one? Where is it?- I asked, eyes burning with fury. Before I could receive a response, everyone was drawn to the main door, and the half-blood I didn’t want to see—at least not that day—was standing in front of us.

-I’m… very sorry to interrupt such a heart wrenching brotherly moment, but I think one of you left this in my wardrobe.- He was holding my archery set midair. Good Gods, why? Why him? Why couldn’t he have waited the next day? I took a sigh of relief knowing it was safe and not somewhere in the depths of the lake.

I believe that day was the fastest I've ever walked, and I did it just to keep Michael in my cabin for as little time as possible.

Even before the son of Apollo mentioned it, I knew my brothers were observing us quite focused. Yew, they are my brothers; of course I know what they are up to; I don't need your help, the fuck?

-Just don’t mind them.- I reached out my hand in anticipation of receiving my archery equipment back. He remained still. -I’m sorry, what are you waiting for? An official invitation from Zeus? Or what?-

-I am waiting for a proper apology and…- He bent his face to me, and I am very certain that he did so to use me as a human shield and hide his face from my brothers so they couldn't see the expression on his face because the man gave me a full-on smirk. Like, the one you give people when you are hitting on them (I know because I grew up around the Aphrodite’s children hitting and being hit on EVERYONE) -…and also a proper thank you.- He handed me back my belongings and left after a very quick wink threw at me. Yes, still without being seen by the rest of the cabin. And I’m sure I blushed a little, but thanks to my dad, I was wearing a soft layer of make-up.

-What did he say?- Asked Connor the second Michael walked outside.

-No, most important, why did he hide his face from us?- Was Travis’ question.

-He wanted to let me know he would help me take my revenge on you.- I started heading towards my bed. -And to answer your question, Travis, I have no idea.- I took the remaining things for training, and then I headed out. Finally some time to spend doing some archery after such a long day (is just midday).

And this, everyone, is how things started to get complicated.

[mrserendipitous]

directed at Porter specifically

[friend-or-fo]

hi!! can i get some dr teeth headcanons for a relationship with mutual admiration? 💚

Sorry I didn't see this before, dude, (/gen) I don't know how long this ask has been in here but I'm certainly hyped to see it! My hyperfix on the Muppets has been super strong lately, so you asked at a great time! I love Dr. Teeth but I don't know him as well as the other Muppets... really need to see the Disney+ Muppet Mayhem show... but in the meantime I can definitely rustle up something for you ^u^

Dr. Teeth x GN reader with mutual admiration 💚

As the resident band of the Muppet Theatre, Dr. Teeth and The Electric Mayhem are always working on something new and exciting for each show. You can't help but gaze in awe at the group's leading man as he sings his heart out, hammering the keys with passion and energy.

Of course, as the band's sound engineer, you have an intimate relationship with each of the Mayhem's members, but Dr. Teeth and you are by far the closest. He gives you his innovative, wildly creative arrangements, and you give them expansive, gorgeous dynamics, adjusting each sound channel until every instrument and voice is perfectly balanced.

Your hard work doesn't go unnoticed. Dr. Teeth can hear what he wants his songs to sound like in his head, but the way you polish them up is beyond even his imagination. And your gorgeous smile when everything comes together doesn't hurt, either. He hams it up for you, really, putting on his best performance, even if it's just rehearsals.

After one show, Dr. Teeth comes up to you and gives you a hearty pat on the back, laughing in his raspy voice.

"That was a serendipitious symphony of seismic proportions, (Y/N). Thanks for all you do. This wouldn't be possible without ya, you know?"

You insist this wouldn't be possible without him- and everyone else, you quickly add with a blush- that the Electric Mayhem's the guys who make all the magic happen.

He shakes his head with a toothy grin. "Whoever said you weren't part of the group? You are, in my book."

Blushing even harder now, you ask if he's joking.

"...I've got a lotta faith in you. Have a little faith in me, too. I wouldn't let you down, kid."

[chicago-geniza]

Probably my favorite phenomenon to witness is when someone's hyper-niche academic expertise serendipitiously dovetails with a major pop cultural event. Just read a thread by a cultural historian of modern France, specializing in visual culture, performance, and memory, who's currently writing a study about. Napoleon on stage and screen. She is freaking the fuck out about the Ridley Scott blockbuster lmfao

[homunculus-argument]

I baked a serendipitious flatbread. I set out to bake just a regular loaf of bread, but it turned out flat. Tastes great, though.

[willfrominternet]

I rediscovered an old chapbook of poems and writings from my first year living in New York (2013-2014), and thought I'd share it with you all. Rereading it made me sentimental for a time when I wrote with more passion. I have sought that passion again recently, so finding old writings feels coincidental and serendipitious.

TRAIN COMPOST is about riding the train, seeing other people on the train, wondering about the lives of the people on the train, and realizing that we are all people on the train. it is about living in fear, through the menial tasks of the day, in and out of love, and in uncomfortable situations. key word: it is about living.

I realize I wrote this ten years ago; well, in honor of a decade of train compost, here is the link to download it for free (or your desired price): https://bigswan.gumroad.com/l/traincompost

Thank you! And hopefully there will be more writing and inspiration soon.