#words that dont exist

[owllet88]

Random words that I made up:

Choose your pick if you want too (:

1. Kakimofusa

2. Pajoichimo

3. Yugasami

4. Yugasaimoiru

5. Mokakusaruei

6. Mokakusapai

7. Korumoromi

8. Sagrugath

9. Rusakomi

10. Rusakagoru

11. Rusagaru

12. Josakomoipop

13. Poirumi

14. Popkoirumi

15. Tegalasaiga

16. Casumopopa

[littlemsterious]

i was thinking about that post comparing Jessica Rabbit as an asexual to Barbie and an asexual and then i thought of the Neil Gaiman post (was it a post?) about Crowley and Aziraphale being asexual sexless and then this happened.

anyways. thoughts?

sorry it took so long I meant to do this a week ago but my brain is full of rocks.

[Image ID a three sided venn diagram. the big circles show Margot Robbie's Barbie sitting in front of a mirror, Jessica and Roger Rabbit from the poster of Who Framed Roger Rabbit, and Aziraphale and Crowley from Good Omens standing back to back. Between Barbie and Jessica Rabbit it says "sexualised by society". Between Jessica Rabbit and Aziraphale and Crowley it says "Knows what sex is". Between Aziraphale and Crowley and Barbie it says "no reproductive system(?)". the center is the asexual flag. End ID]

Also i haven't seen the Barbie movie as of this edit so at least please tag your spoilers.

[hg-aneh]

Sigh

I can't believe I have to say this

If you know of anyone who's y'know "bad" or anything of the sort and happens to follow me... don't??? tell??? me??

Regardless of the circumstances and actions of the person, I say this with the utmost respect and fear: I don't want to get involved

What people who follow me or don't or have me blocked or muted or whatever do in their free and irl time is not my business

I know not to mess with english-speaking communities' personal affairs now. Like, no offense, but y'all are pretty fucking creepy when it comes to stuff like that, and that's why, again, I don't want to get involved

I have enough problems in the real world currently. Please understand that! 🙏

[chalkeater]

i have NOT drawn enough talk sprite redraws. Heres some warm ups!! RAAHH 🦖

[the-meme-monarch]

in flatland how do you think gender affirming surgery would work

[ratatatastic]

maffhew who refuses to say runebergin torttu because he knows hes gonna butcher it so bad he might be kicked out of the country the second he tries and staunchly avoids that by going "the one dessert that barky is going to have to explain 😃"

sasha who gets faced with the most generic description of everything hes ever eaten in his life so far because of maffhew and going "???... oh you mean runebergin torttu!"

"he did good he liked the food and he likes the finland so far so its good" sasha says with so much pride now that all the anxiety has left his system that his husband teammate is enjoying his country and doesnt hate it

media availability | 10.29.24 (x)(x)

the smile of a man who knowlingly doomed his husband and said husband using all his brain power to context clues his way to whatever the fuck he just got asked that his brain is running hotter than a mid 2012 macbook air thats somehow still alive in the year of the lord 2024 but girl does she chug along shes louder than a fighter jet

[alwerakoo]

Idk if this is a universal experience for rise fanfic writers but I'm STRUGGLING out here

(also yes this is the actual reason why she hasn't appeared in my seperated au yet)

[queer-muslim-culture-is]

to all my fellow trans muslims on trans day of visibility: i see you and i hear you. you are not and never will be alone in this

if youre not trans but you know someone who is, take the time to tell them that they are loved today, yea ?

[xenazaria]

Just had an idea for a Danny phantom au that potentially gets very dark.

Danny goes down to investigate the portal alone.

Danny dies in the portal.

Like, fully dead.

Maddie hears his screams from upstairs, and runs to investigate.

She finds her son's corpse lying in front of a swirling green portal.

The portal needed a sacrifice to open.

The portal is open.

[starry-bi-sky]

Clone^2 - Separation Strikes

"Why do I have to go?" Damian asks, surly and accent-thick, it sounds more like a demand and a whine at the same time. Sitting on the kitchen table with his arms crossed, in a green t-shirt that Danny bought him at a whim when he was at a thrift shop, and black shorts, he's never looked more like a kid. There's a little backpack leaning against the table leg, Damian begrudgingly picked it out when they went shopping.

His English has grown in leaps and bounds since Danny found him -- er, or more accurately; since Damian was spat out in front of him. -- and very little did they have to use the translator on Danny's phone these days.

Which meant one thing: Damian can start attending school comfortably now. And 'go' was the Amity Smiles Child Care Center. Danny and Jazz went as kids until they were twelve, and Mom and Dad actually managed to convince the center director to let Damian enroll for the summer.

And it was summer; Damian starts today.

"Because," Danny says, trying and failing to hide the smile pulling on his face, his heart warm and soft, and also laughing at Damian's expense; "being cooped up in the house all day isn't good for you, and you're starting school in the Fall. And, in Jazz's words: you need to have interactions with other kids your age for the benefit of your social development. And besides, it's only for the morning."

Damian's nose scrunches up, and his eyes roll so violently that for a moment, Danny thinks about joking that he'll get his eyes stuck like that. He holds his tongue; his little brother already looks like he's five seconds away from committing an act of violence.

"I don't need social interaction." Damian sneers, his cheek in his hand; a neverend pool of pride. "I am--"

"The Blood of the Demon Heir, better than everyone else." Danny cuts off, waving his hand in dismissive circles, his voice mockingly deep. Damian's brown skin darkens in embarrassment, and he scowls at Danny. "I know, bud. But Jazz is right, -- don't tell her I said that, -- you should be around kids your age."

Especially when he starts First Grade in the Fall. Honestly -- Danny was a little nervous to send him to the center. Damian's long since cut the habit of trying to kill or otherwise maim people, his palms ache-burn with gentle reminder, but his tongue was as sharp and as cutting as his sword. He still struggles with trying to quell it when he's upset. Vicious child-weapon that he once was, and will never be again.

Danny knows that it comes from a place of fear and defense, that Damian lashes out because that's what he's been taught. That at the end of the day, he doesn't really mean what he says, and he's learning to express himself better. But the other kids don't know that, and kids can be unforgiving and cruel.

Danny just...

His slow beating heart sighs, melancholy settles behind his lungs.

He doesn't want Damian to be outcasted. He doesn't want him to be alone.

Not like he was.

Damian sneers again, but says nothing, his shoulders crawling up to hide his ears like a turtle receding into his shell. Danny watches him silently, leaning against the kitchen counter with his own arms crossed. The clock hanging on the wall ticks in their ears -- it's almost time to go.

He watches Damian, careful, and so he sees it when his little brother's stone-shell pride and petulance shudders, and cracks. The darkened furrow of Damian's brows weakens, and for a moment, slants back.

Ah, Danny thinks, his own shoulders slumping. Epiphany washes over him, and his sad-heart soothes in warm understanding. So that's what it is.

His head tilts, and his hair spills over his shoulders, messy and fluffy, tickling his neck. Some of his bangs fall into his face. "Hal 'ant easabiatan ya habibi?" He asks, voice low and soft. Just as Damian's English has improved, so has Danny's Arabic. He still stumbles over himself some days, and Damian says his accent is trash, but they can have whole conversations now in Damian's mothertongue.

(Danny was incredibly proud of himself for it.)

Damian's face darkens, his blush spreading across the rest of his face, and he ducks his head down. Grown-out curls, black-brown and springy, falls over his eyes. "La!" He yells, loud and indignant, and not at all convincingly. "La 'asheur bialtawaturi!"

He was nervous. Danny can see it now, in the hunch of his shoulders and the tightness of his face, and faintly, he can feel it too. In the ecto-rich air of the Fentonworks House, it thrums, barely-there, like a hummingbird behind his lungs.

Danny can't stop the little, fond smile that forces itself across his lips and upticks the corner of his mouth. "It's okay to be nervous, little brother." He says, he sounds like Jazz when he says that. He doesn't think she'll mind him borrowing the nickname.

He pushes himself off the counter, and Damian refuses to look at him, hiding behind his hair and in his shoulders. It takes three long strides for him to reach the table, and Danny turns, plants his hands on the ledge, and hoists himself up. Right next to Damian.

Damian leans into him easily when Danny's arm wraps around his shoulders and tucks him close to his heart. He can feel his ear against his ribs. Danny hunches over him, resting his chin on Damian's head. "It's so okay to be nervous, actually. I was nervous, Jazz was nervous." He tells him, scratching the blunt edge of his nails across his scalp. "Everyone gets nervous."

"'Ana last aljumiea." Damian mumbles, as small and feeble as he was the night on the OPS Center balcony, realizing that his mom and the League weren't coming for him. Realizing that he was replaceable.

Danny's half-working heart squeezes; in grief, in rage, and his faucet eyes sting. He breathes in carefully, and presses his nose into Damian's hair in a loving faux-kiss. "You're right, you're not everyone." He says, steady and strong, because if he's not a pillar for his family, who else is he?

He can feel Damian's eyes flick up to him, and Danny smiles into his black-brown curls. Tilts his head to squish his cheek against him instead, hand dropping to thumb below Damian's lashes. "You're Damian Fenton," Because the adoption went through a few weeks ago, and he's still riding that high, "You're my baby brother. O' Artist Extraordinaire, Kickass with a Sword, Vegetarian and Wonderful Co-Ghost Hunter."

Damian tries to stifle a smile, and fails. Score! Triumph gathers in Danny's gut, his smile grows wider. He squeezes Damian tight, and only releases him so he can look him in the eyes. "And if anyone gives you a hard time at school, and I mean anyone--"

Danny has bad memories of the teachers looking the other way when the other kids were bullying him, all because he was a Fenton.

And Danny, bleeding heart, bleeding hands, loves his family more than he will ever love himself, will never let Damian experience the same injustice. Not if he can help it.

His eyes narrow, and the buzzy-film of ectoplasm covers his eyes, making them glow, "--You tell me. And as your awesome great big brother-and-technically-dad-but-only-biologically, I will handle it."

Damian, wonderfully made, full of light, his little brother Damian, giggles weakly at him. A sound that's worth it's weight in gold. The scary eyes dissipate, and Danny matches the sound with a cock-eyed, impish grin, dragging Damian into a soul-crushing, too-tight hug. The kind that only annoying older brothers can give. "Got it?"

That gets a proper, if short, laugh out of Damian. He wriggles in Danny's arms, trying to break free. But Danny does calisthenics, his arms are as big as Damian's head, so it doesn't work. "Understood, now, daeni 'adhhab ya 'akhi!"

Danny laughs, loud and bright, and loosens his hold just a smidge, only so he can adjust his grip and hop off the table with Damian still in arm.

"Never!" He crows, hoisting Damian slightly. One eye flick at the clock, and in one quick move, he secures Damian under one arm like a football, and hooks his foot under the strap of his backpack. Kicking it up, he tosses it into the air and catches it with his free hand, and slings it over his shoulder. "Now, to the car, my boy! Before we're late and Mom and Dad get charged."

Damian groans, childish and dramatic and long, but his face is all squished up with a wide grin and glee. Danny can taste his joy beneath his tongue.

"And, if my little pep talk didn't encourage you," He says, reaching the door to the garage, flipping Damian up onto his hip instead. "If you have a good day today, I'll make you bal mithai when you get back."

Like all kids at the promise of sweets, Damian's eyes widen and glitter. Danny loves seeing Damian be a kid, it's his favorite thing in the world. "I will!"

[deerspherestudios]

Hey!! Thank you so much for day 3, i loved the way you wrote mychael and made him react to the MC's decisions. The way we discover more about his personality, how he reacts to the world around him and MC's decisions makes me love him more every single update !1!!1 comfort character fr fr

Now, for the question, how did you come up with the words ktchreikrichein and greighkhen? (and what does the last one mean lol)

Tysm for your work, effort and, of course, sharing your silly lil mushroom man with us :) take care !!

Aaa thank you so much for the praise!! He's just a goober and I love showing multiple sides to him! I'm just glad everyone likes him as much as they do <3

As for the 'language', I'll put a read more here since I ramble a little:

Honestly, as embarrassing as it is to admit, I just crunched a couple letters together. I've mentioned before his language is a lot of clicking, hissing, growling; the less people can pronounce it the closer the vibe is to his language I intended, as well as sounding like clicks and growls.

Here's a rough translation of what I was going for:

ktchreikrichein - person of pleasant appeal (synonymous with cute, handsome, pretty, beautiful, etc; a compliment in visual appearance.)

greighkhen - person of inconvenience (synonymous with mischievous, dangerous, troublesome, annoying, etc; Mychael was calling you a troublemaker)

Inspired by the language structure in Toki Pona, the intent here is the last syllable sounds like 'khein' = person.

So adding 'ktch' = look/see + 'reikri' = pleasant/nice has the meaning "person that is nice to look at" or 'greigh' = trouble/problem has the meaning "person that causes problems."

At the end of the day it's just some silly fun with nonsense syllables.

[spartalabouche]

sometimes its really obvious how much people dont actually believe presentation=/=gender when they see their nonbinary friend go from extremely masculine to relaxing back into femininity once theyre comfortable with their gender and every time they call it detransitioning with zero indication thats what their friend is calling it. i dont know how to tell you this but sometimes you present a certain way for social reasons and not because thats how you actually feel. sometimes you experience dysphoria about your body that is actually related to how people view you and not how you feel about your body. i really dont think its that uncommon for trans people to swing really hard in one direction for the affirmation and then relax back into a different presentation once they are more comfortable in their gender

[just-a-lonely-nobody]

These days I just don't feel shit. I don't feel a thing at all, I don't feel like I exist

[oatmealcrisp-freak]

"shipping saiki is aphobic because he's aroace!"

stares at you with my demiromantic asexual in a committed relationship eyes then looks at the camera like im in the office

[heynhay]

i think i should be allowed to make up words

[atthebell]

i feel like you should not get to use the word cubito if you're one of those complete fucking asshole hc/life fans that's said racist shit about the qsmp/quackity like you don't get to borrow that word from spanlang fans if you're gonna act like latinos are beneath you or like your annoying white guy is the only mcyt that matters