#it's just going to take a while

[ghost-likes-drawing]

This Wip has been in the works since the 29th of September. I might actually have it done today... well I'll need to check it for clarity but. Damn.

[hinamie]

together, we do the same thing again //

[uncanny-tranny]

I think so many people are so deeply alienated from themselves that they have no clue how to exercise their free will and autonomy. For some, this alienation runs so deep that they are afraid of their own autonomy and humanity. It is completely understandable why one would have those feelings, but it can be worrisome.

I want to help others who feel this way, so here are small things I have done to exercise my free will:

Add "guilty pleasure" songs to playlists and actually listen to them (I have a ton of late 1990s-early 2000s music I listen to now proudly that I never listened to in the past out of shame)

Getting the décor item, bath set, bed spread, ect. in the patterns you like, even if it's "childish" (I got a dinosaur-themed wastebasket from the kids' décor section and I adore it)

Taking a new route to get to a place you go to often

Eat dessert first

Celebrate well, and often

Collect things that are "odd" or don't seem like an "acceptable" thing to collect (somebody on my "for you" page collects dandelion crayola crayons and it was so cool!!!!!!)

Incorporate one new piece in an outfit you wear frequently (e.g., a new chain, a necklace, ribbons, bracelets, ect.). Challenge yourself to add onto the outfits if you feel up for it.

Sing along to songs without worrying that you sound "good" or your intonation is completely accurate

Read a book from a genre you weren't allowed to read as a kid (comics, thrillers, mysteries, anything!)

Walk without having a specific destination or goal

Pick up a new craft without expecting yourself to master it or to ever be "good" enough. Get your hands messy.

I don't want to shame anybody for not feeling as though they have free will or that they are exempt from exercising it. However, I wanted to give ideas so that you might read this list and find your own ways to express your intrinsic autonomy and will. You deserve to be a person, to feel alive, not just living. That is what our lives are for.

[zhelin-thames]

Tiny baby ghost

idea from Prompt for @silverblueglitter

part 2 and 3 are out Masterpost

The summoning circle glowed an eerie green, casting sharp shadows around the Justice League's meeting chamber. John Constantine, sleeves rolled up and cigarette dangling from his lips, muttered the last words of the incantation. The room held a tense silence, broken only by the faint hum of the magical energy.

When the green smoke cleared, instead of the imposing figure of the Ghost King they’d expected, a scrawny teenager in a black jumpsuit with white gloves and boots appeared, looking distinctly unimpressed.

“Seriously?!” Danny Phantom groaned, throwing up his hands. “It’s a school night!”

The room collectively blinked. Superman and Wonder Woman exchanged confused glances. Batman’s eyes narrowed behind his cowl, while the Batkids—perched around the room like chaotic gargoyles—leaned forward, intrigued.

“This… is the Ghost King?” Nightwing asked, his voice skeptical but amused.

“Ghost King?” Danny repeated, holding up a hand. “Nope. Wrong guy. Try again.”

“Clearly, this is a child,” Robin said flatly, stepping forward with his arms crossed. “Either the summoning ritual failed, or we’ve been deceived.”

“Who are you calling a child, mini-Nightmare?” Danny shot back, floating an inch off the ground to look taller. “I’m fifteen. How old are you, eight?”

“I am fourteen, you insufferable spirit,” Robin snapped, glaring daggers at him. “And you are woefully unqualified to speak to me in such a tone.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay, Robin Junior. Let me know when you grow a sense of humor.”

Red Hood, perched casually on a table nearby, barked out a laugh. “I like this kid already.”

Robin scowled. “You would.”

Red Hood swung his legs off the table, standing to his full height. “Alright, Casper, if you’re not the Ghost King, why’d this ritual grab you instead?”

“That’s a great question! Wish I knew!” Danny said, throwing up his hands.

Constantine frowned, stepping closer. “You’re definitely ghostly, mate, and half-alive by the looks of you.” His sharp gaze softened just slightly. “You’re a bloody halfa.”

Danny froze, eyes darting to the swirling green barrier still holding him in the circle (not really). “I’m a ghost. And yeah, I’m alive. What’s it to you?”

Batman loomed closer, his deep voice cutting through the room. “If you’re not the Ghost King, why does this summoning work?”

“Great question! Wish I knew!” Danny threw up his arms again, his ectoplasm glowing faintly in frustration. “I don’t even know who you are, and you’ve already ruined my night! or Maybe the universe hates me. That’d explain a lot!”

“Who even made this circle?” Red Hood asked, pointing at Constantine. “Did you check it? It’s glowing green. That’s ghost vibes, man.”

“Thanks for the observation, Red Hood,” Constantine said dryly. “What gave it away, the ectoplasm or the ghost?”

“You are in no position to demand answers,” Batman growled.

“Oh my god, you’re worse than my parents,” Danny muttered.

Before Batman could respond, the air grew colder. A heavy, oppressive presence filled the room as green flames erupted in the middle of the chamber. From the flames stepped Pariah Dark, fully armored and radiating raw power, his glowing eyes zeroing in on Danny.

The League tensed, weapons at the ready, but Pariah didn’t even look at them. Instead, his expression softened in a way that could only be described as paternal as he reached out and plucked Danny out of the circle like a child grabbing a stuffed animal.

“Who dares summon my child?” Pariah rumbled, his deep voice shaking the room. He cradled Danny in one massive hand as though he were the most precious treasure in existence. Danny, for his part, just sighed and leaned against one of Pariah’s fingers.

“Dad, chill. They’re not trying to hurt me—” Danny shot a glare at Batman, “—yet.”

“‘Dad’?” Robin echoed, utterly baffled.

“They stressed him out,” Pariah continued as if Danny hadn’t spoken. “This is the third time in two weeks. Do you know how much sleep he’s lost? He has school!”

Pariah’s gaze darkened. “The third summoning this week,” he growled. “And for what? To disrupt his rest? His studies?”

“Studies?” Robin repeated incredulously. “This alleged ‘Ghost Prince’ is concerned with—”

“School,” Red Hood supplied helpfully, smirking. “That tracks. He’s just a kid.”

“I’M NOT JUST A KID!” Danny protested, his voice cracking slightly. Jason snorted.

Before anyone else could respond, Fright Knight materialized beside Pariah, his armor gleaming and his sword crackling with ghostly energy. He took one look at the summoning circle and grimaced.

“Shall I eliminate the offenders, my liege?” he asked Pariah, his grip tightening on his sword.

“No!” Danny yelped, waving his hands frantically. “No eliminating, no smiting! We talked about this, remember?”

Pariah sighed, his massive shoulders slumping. “They stressed you out,” he rumbled. “They should pay.”

“They’ll be fine,” Danny muttered. “Just… let me handle it, okay?”

“‘Fine,’ he says,” Red Hood muttered. “We’re seconds away from getting blasted into the afterlife.”

Robin's hand drifted toward his sword, his eyes darting between Pariah and Fright Knight. “This is absurd. We are the Justice League. Surely, we are not so easily—”

“Shut it, kid,” Consttantine interrupted. “Unless you want to test if we’re actually ‘fine.’”

Danny groaned. “Can we not do this right now?”

Wonder Woman stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. “We summoned you because we need the Ghost King’s aid to stop a catastrophic magical event threatening the world.”

“Then why not summon him?” Danny snapped. “I’m not the king!”

“Yet the ritual brought you,” Batman said, his voice a mix of curiosity and accusation.

Pariah’s gaze darkened. “The crown does not transfer unless challenged. And none shall dare challenge my son.”

Danny squirmed in his ghost-dad’s grip. “Okay, Dad, they get it. Can you not threaten to destroy the world for five minutes?”

Pariah huffed but gently set Danny down, though he remained close, a looming shadow of protective menace.

Constantine rubbed his temples, muttering something about “bloody teenagers” and “overprotective ghost tyrants.” Meanwhile, the Batkids exchanged glances, clearly plotting something.

Danny sighed. “Look, I’ll help you guys with your big, scary magical problem, but can we make it quick? I have a chem test tomorrow.”

[theshadowrealmitself]

I like to think that Vulcans who come to understand that Humans just can’t try to process emotions the same way as them, it’s just healthiest to let it out in harmless ways, decide that venting and stuff should be taken just as seriously as Vulcan’s meditation time, and will encourage the Humans around them to complain about what’s upsetting them

People who are used to aloof Vulcans who avoid Humans at all cost running into one comforting a Human

“-and then they said my cheesecake was subpar, and they didn’t even bring a dish!!!”

“The purpose of this event was that every participant brings a food item of sorts, correct?”

“Yeah!!”

“And they did not follow this rule while insulting dishes that were brought?”

“Mostly just my dish but yeah >:(“

“How illogical”

“That’s what I’m saying!!!”

[elodieunderglass]

changes and trends in horror-genre films are linked to the anxieties of the culture in its time and place. Vampires are the manifestation of grappling with sexuality; aliens, of foreign influence. Horror from the Cold War is about apathy and annihilation; classic Japanese horror is characterised by “nature’s revenge”; psychological horror plays with anxieties that absorbed its audience, like pregnancy/abortion, mental illness, femininity. Some horror presses on the bruise of being trapped in a situation with upsetting tasks to complete, especially ones that compromise you as a person - reflecting the horrors and anxieties of capitalism etc etc etc. Cosmic horror is slightly out of fashion because our culture is more comfortable with, even wistful for, “the unknown.” Monster horror now has to be aware of itself, as a contingent of people now live in the freedom and comfort of saying “I would willingly, gladly, even preferentially fuck that monster.” But I don’t know much about films or genres: that ground has been covered by cleverer people.

I don’t actually like horror or movies. What interests me at the moment is how horror of the 2020s has an element of perception and paying attention.

Multiple movies in one year discussed monsters that killed you if you perceived them. There are monsters you can’t look at; monsters that kill you instantly if you get their attention. Monsters where you have to be silent, look down, hold still: pray that they pass over you. M Zombies have changed from a hand-waved virus that covers extras in splashy gore, to insidious spores. A disaster film is called Don’t Look Up, a horror film is called Nope. Even trashy nun horror sets up strange premises of keeping your eyes fixed on something as the devil GETS you.

No idea if this is anything. (I haven’t seen any of these things because, unfortunately, I hate them.) Someone who understands better than me could say something clever here, and I hope they do.

But the thing I’m thinking about is what this will look like to the future, as the Victorian sex vampires and Cold War anxieties look to us. I think they’ll have a little sympathy, but they probably won’t. You poor little prey animals, the kids will say, you were awfully afraid of facing up to things, weren’t you?

[bacchuschucklefuck]

typical tavern scene

[melioristicbeast]

they're on a boat

wanted to capture the serenity of being out on the water on a warm afternoon

(they're listening to derek's playlist for once, rec under the cut)

[find this and my other sterek art on Redbubble!]

Had this on repeat while drawing it, thought the melancholic vibes fit ♥

[egophiliac]

So,I read silver's relaxation vigente and now I'm sad for the poor boy. If lilia broke up silver's curse why is it acting so strongly on him?

to be fair, the chronological placement of his birthday story just doesn't make any sense in general. like, it can only really take place during his second year, since Ace and Malleus are both there...yet we have seen pretty definitively what Silver was doing on the evening before/morning of his 18th birthday, and it was very much NOT his history homework. this myth?

jk jk I think it's just one of those card stories that's meant to be more...perpendicular to canon, if that makes sense? 😅 like a lot of them aren't really supposed to fit into a specific point in the timeline; instead all the characters and relationships tend to be somewhere vaguely post-episode 1 (occasionally with a bonus post-6 Ortho) except Yuu is already friends with everyone and nobody is surprised to hear them call Malleus Tsunotarou.

mostly they can get away with it, but it starts getting a bit weird with the cards that are supposed to be set at specific times. :T for those I think you gotta just kind of suspend your disbelief and take 'em as, like...little what-if AUs, or something like that! it's not exactly not canon, but more like. this is Silver's birthday if none of the narrative development happened and so his curse is still in effect, or something. 🤷 uhhhh basically Twst's timeline is an eldritch thing that cannot be perceived by mortal eyes, to try will lead to nothing but suffering, down this path dwells only madness.

that said I do 100% accept the presented canon that Silver's roommate is in eternal torment. this is the real victim of Twst right here.

[tillydouspart]

and there we go! continuation of my hermitcraft but lore accurate au thing! with a reconciliation of sorts?

part 1 | part 2

[inkskinned]

you can't talk to me that way actually. listen sir i type up longass, cited replies to internet arguments and then never post it because i'm too exhausted by the idea of conflict & besides nobody knows how to read anymore. and i'll let you know, by the way, i'm always 10000% right in all of those answers and i have an undefeated smackdown rate of one thousandbillion. so really before you say anything just remember im going to write a big paragraph about it and then delete it

[delicourse]

Falin🌷

[lgbtlunaverse]

There's a version of the "don't go grocery shopping while hungry" rule specifically for writers where you should never under any circumstances be allowed to touch your draft within 3 hours of reading a really good story. Because sometimes when you read something great your head goes "fuck this is so much better than my stuff I should make that more like THIS instead!" Look at me. That's the devil talking and you should close the document NOW.

[morganbritton132]

Hopper is sitting in a booth at the diner.

He watching his new recruit talk on the pay phone outside through the window, contemplating. He’s not too sure about this Callahan kid.

He’s not sure if he’s just getting older or if it’s because he has a daughter now, but Christ. Callahan still had braces last year and they just handed him a gun. The kid is nineteen.

Hopper must have been too deep in his musing because he doesn’t notice Steve slide into the booth across from him until Steve is halfway through telling him that they make him sit at the bar when the diner is busy. He doesn’t like that because people touch his hair when they go past so, “Can I sit with you, please?”

He shoves Callahan’s half-finished hash browns to the side and says, “Don’t worry, I’ll be really quiet. You’ll forget that I’m here. Mama says I’m really good at that.”

Yeah. Somehow Hopper doesn’t think he’ll be forgetting much of anything. Especially after Patty Martin, the only waitress in the building today, comes over to top of Hopper’s coffee. She gives Steve the sweetest smile Hop has ever seen on her face and asks, “Pancakes again, kiddo?”

“No thanks,” Steve says, pulling some crumbled up dollars and a handful of coins from his pocket. He slides it towards her and says with a gap-toothed smile, “One big sundae with two bananas, please.”

She looks at the money, “That’s a bit more than what you got here, kid.”

“Not of it’s your birthday.”

This is a game, Hopper realizes when Patty asks, “Is it your birthday? You had a birthday last year.”

“I have a birthday every year!” Steve giggles, and Hopper is slightly amused until Patty leaves and Steve informs him, “Mama and me come here every year on my birthday and get a big sundae. We share it. It’s tradition. I’m seven.”

Hopper scans the room and finds it lacking, “Where is your mom?”

Steve pauses. He can see the gears turning in the kid’s head. He knows that Steve must’ve heard his dad say that you don’t lie to the police but you don’t got to tell them the truth because he predictably gives a non-answer, “She’s not here.”

Descriptive, Hopper thinks but he also thinks this whole scenario is so damn sad. Instead of an interrogating, he asks, “Hey, kid. How about after you finish your ice cream, I take you for a drive in the truck. You can turn the siren on.”

Steve gives him a look like he not only thinks that suggestion is stupid but that Hopper is too. He says gently, like he’s letting Hopper down easy, “No thanks.”

“I’m going to Tommy’s later,” Steve adds. “His mama is making me a cake.”

[swordsonnet]

i'm sorry but i don't think we should call this the "autism website" when there's still posts with tons of notes mocking people who:

struggle with social skills / have anxiety around social settings

are unemployed / unable to work certain jobs

have intense or "age-inappropriate" interests

haven't had certain life experiences that are deemed universal/essential

struggle with personal hygiene

don't have any friends or dating experience

don't go outside much or at all

take things literally / don't get sarcasm/jokes

have unusual ways of speaking

generally aren't "normal"

[lunamugetsu]

The new hire

The Wayne Manor is a very large building with a large list of things that needed tending to. While Alfred takes pride in his ability in being the Wayne family butler, he is not too proud to admit that he does need help in maintaining the manor.

So he hired a part time maid!

A young lady named Jasmine, who is a student at Gotham University and is taking care of her younger siblings.

She's well behaved, doesn't complain, cleans well, doesn't steal, and has enough sass in her to deal with any of the batfamily's attitude.

One time she even stopped a group of burglars all by herself. When Alfred had come to check on her, he was met with the sight of Jazz having tied them up while lecturing them about their life choices and helping them find a better job.

So when he agrees to meeting with Jazz's brother to see if he'd be perfect to help with the jobs that needed heavy lifting or hard work. He is met with a 6'10 very muscled man with sharp teeth and flaming hair.

"This is my... twin brother! Dan!" Jazz introduces the man who Alfred.