#and eventually get out of the habit

[izupie]

also for the love of god don't be self deprecating over and over and over about your own writing as a joke

it's not funny ! it's not cute !

sure we all like to joke haha my writing is garbage but if you do it constantly it can be so so bad for you. you won't even realise when it stops being a joke inside your own head. if you're always criticising the way you write, even for the funnies, it can take all the joy out of it before you've even noticed. plus everyone around you will stop finding it funny very quickly, even if they don't say it out loud. trust me.

if you tell me you don't like your fic or the way you write, why will I decide I do??

if you're addicted to the validation of someone going 'nooo your writing is amazing!' then you need to address that because that's going to be a problem and you need to find a way out of that hole because it's not. good. for. you.

[lucabyte]

Perceptive kid, I wonder just how much they pretend not to overhear.

[lucksea]

havent decided how i want the introduction to go yet but i imagine it would roughly be one of these two

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 273

You know what? We need more Good parents Fentons. 

And you know what else? Technically, Jack helped Danny defeat Pariah via the use of the Ecto-Skeleton. And like, that’s his son, his baby boy. Sure Danny is and has always been a mommy’s boy, but it doesn’t change that fact. They’re both already feeling horrible about the fact they could have hurt him, they could have hurt their son- they have hurt their son, killed him with their inaction and never again. 

So when these oversized jello-eyeballs try to insist that their baby, their precious baby boy, take a crown? Become a king when he’s not even out of highschool, when he doesn’t want it? No. Hell no! That is his Danny-o, his baby boy who was terrified of his own parents! 

Which is how Jack, despite technically still being alive even if so-very ecto-contaminated, became the Ghost King. 

And for some reason there’s several ghosts rather happy about this- oh, these are his Danny-O’s ghost-parents? Not-ghost parents seeing as some of them have never been anything but a realm denizen? That’s really fascinating- y’know what, want some fudge and we can exchange childcare- Maddie dear come over and meet our co-parents apparently!  

Now it’s not all easy, but they’re trying their best, and that’s all that can be asked. 

…

Which is perhaps why it’s so exasperating- or as Maddie would put it, downright infuriating- that it is now, almost an entire year and a half later that the Heroes finally arrive to investigate. Well, at least he has plenty of fudge since it’s almost time for the council meeting. 

[puppyeared]

adhd is when you shoot for the moon but you forgot the rocket fuel and by the time you realize it everyones already on the moon and then you panic and crash into the sun and it explodes

[loquaciousquark]

when will eppie hawke and fenris meet tavish and astarion? (:

"And anyway, it won't be that bad. One last little Fade rift. We'll barricade it up as best we can, send a message to Skyhold, go home, and—"

One of the craggy footholds crumbles away beneath Hawke's foot, and it's only Fenris's quick hand that saves her from a plummet back down the side of the barren mountain. "Hawke, please."

"Please yourself. I said you didn't have to come."

Fenris throws her a longsuffering look, the flickering green lightning of the rift casting weird shadows over his eyes, but he doesn't let go of her arm until she's got both feet on solid ground again. "Just seal it and let this be done."

"My heart's only desire, lover," Hawke says, smiling, just as another pair of voices rises from the other side of the rift.

"Careful—careful! It shocks like the entire Hells are in there. Where's Gale?"

"Wherever Karlach dropped him, I suppose, with that little sprained ankle of his. No, I see them, they're almost here. Come away, darling. No need to get so dramatically close."

"This, from you?" says the woman, just as she and her fellow voice round the far edge of the rift. "Oh!"

"Well!" Hawke says almost at the same moment. Two of them after all: a short, slim woman with auburn hair pulled back in a low tail, and a tall, lithe man with hair as white as Fenris's and eyes that gleam like rubies. The man has a dagger drawn already, a thin smile playing over his face; the woman's fingers rest on her sheathed rapier, but her gaze is open, friendly. Hawke plants her staff on the rocky ground in as welcoming a gesture as she can manage. "Fancy running into someone like you up here of all places."

"I could say the same," the woman says. The green rift, still hanging between them and stretching a good twenty feet into the sky, gives an ominous rumble. "Our wizard's been fretting about magical disturbances along the city's borders for weeks. He finally traces the source to this location, and here you are at the heart of it. I'd like to believe it's coincidence."

"Alas," Hawke says, "one of my greatest faults is a terrible habit of being around when things begin. Fenris can attest to that better than most." She lays a hand on Fenris's shoulder, but he's stiff as iron, eyes glued to the man's dagger, and he's reached back for the hilt of his greatsword. "I'm Hawke, by the way."

"Call me Tav."

"And I'm Astarion," the man says grandly, accompanied by a wholly unnecessary flourish of his dagger. "We're here to steal the world."

"Save it," Tav says sharply.

"Of course, my dear. Save the world. What did I say?"

Fenris makes a short, disgusted noise, but Hawke's pleased to see he's let go of his own sword. She doesn't think this Astarion is going to kill them—not easily, anyway—and she likes the look of Tav despite herself. Both of them quick on their feet, she thinks, both moving gracefully with an innate, self-assured balance. As Tav steps around the rift Astarion moves with her like water, without even needing to see where she's gone. It reminds her a great deal of Fenris and herself, actually, though Hawke would give an arm to trust her own feet that much.

Fenris, it seems, has come to similar conclusions, and he rolls his shoulders as he releases their tension. Even his voice has lost its nascent fury, which for Fenris is practically friendly in situations like this. "The rift is dangerous. We will guard it until the Inquisitor can seal it permanently. Be on your way."

"Inquisitor?" drawls Astarion with that same, thin-lipped smile. "Sounds like someone from dear Shadowheart's former enclave, don't you think?"

"I don't think they're Sharran," Tav says. "Are you?"

"What a speculative look you've put on," Hawke says, delighted. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about. Unless you'd like me to be Sharran, in which case, I most certainly am and in fact have always been."

Both Fenris and Astarion roll their eyes—hilarious in its own right, but heightened by the clear antipathy still remaining between them. Fenris sighs. "Hawke—"

The rift explodes.

Green lightning shatters over the rocky cliff. The rumble bursts into a deafening roar; the faint breeze that had been dancing around them sweeps up into a hurricane. The air cracks and snaps with a sudden smell of ozone.

Hawke throws her hand over her eyes. She can't see—the wind tears her hair from its bindings and she can't see past the brilliant flashes of blazing green and she can't hear— "Fenris!"

Someone's fingers wrap around hers. She wrenches up her staff, calls for fire—for ice—for anything—but the rift has become a maelstrom and every scrap of magic sucks into the raging whirl before she can shape it. Her boots skid on the stone as she tries to brace against the inexorable pull, pebbles and rocks rattling along every step. She can't—the hand wrapped around hers has seized tight as a vise, but she's slipping anyway, and Maker, she can't—

A man's echoing voice, stripped bare of all artifice, wild with fear: "Tav!"

The wind dies. Not slowly, not gradually; it falls off like someone's upturned a glass over the rocky cliff, and Hawke's ears roar in the sudden silence. The wind is gone, and the rift is gone with it as if it had never been, the thunderous clouds that had been swirling above it already dissipating to glimpses of blue morning sky.

"Andraste preserve me," Hawke says, loud in the quiet, and she looks over to see Tav still crouched against the face of the mountain. One of Tav's hands clutches a dagger she'd wedged deep into a stony crevice; the other is still wrapped tight around Hawke's wrist where she'd pulled her away from the tempest.

No sign of Fenris. No sign of the other one—Astarion. A long white scrape in the stone marks where Fenris's sword had sought and failed to find purchase, disappearing at the precise place where the rift had torn itself open.

Gone. Gone, gone. Her heart hammers in her throat, and she indulges in thirty seconds of agonizing grief before she sets it aside, turns, and pulls Tav to her feet.

"Well," Hawke says at last. "Looks like it's just you and me, then. Ready for an adventure?"

"Yes," Tav says, her grip on Hawke's hand like steel, and her eyes blaze. "You and me. Let's get them back."

—

Everything hurts. Everything godsdamned hurts, and Astarion lets out a pained groan as he rolls to his back and drops his arm over his face. His ears ring like bells, and something twinges painfully in his left hip, and the inconvenient sun has decided to blaze right in his face and gods damn it, he'd known they ought to wait for Gale. Wretched wizard and his weak ankles. Wretched Tav and her complete inability—

"Tav," Astarion says, and sits bolt upright.

No Tav. Not even the dark-haired sorcerer with the wide smile. Just that taciturn warrior in leather and half-plate seated on a rock a few feet away, watching Astarion get his bearings, his greatsword slung across his knees and a deeply sour look on his tattooed face. The skies above them are clear and blue as a song.

No Tav. No Hawke. No rift. No plan, and no company besides an irascible stranger with the same sudden look of dawning horror.

"Venhedis."

"Shit."

[endivinity]

Hello, first: I have adored your work for a long time, keep doing you, whatever that is and will be. Second: Do you suffer any wrist pains doing that beautiful linework of yours? If no, whats your secret? Thanks in advance, peace!

ahhh thank you!! oh boy do I ever get wrist pains :') I have a night wrist brace and a few years ago I had to do physio for a pinched elbow nerve that was sending pain all the way up into my shoulder and clavicle. this was largely due to overwork and poor posture (I was working solely on a laptop and did not have a pc). the linework is actually less of an issue because I do it in such a way that it's light and flowing and doesn't need heavy pen pressure. Switching to a pencil type brush has done a LOT of good - it's thin and imprecise, and gaps + inconsistencies add to its charm. it's actually the flat color stage that gives me the most grief because the brush I use for that has feathering at the edges which is great for not having a super hard edge up against the lineart... at the cost of my arm. I also don't stretch it as much as I should, since it's a habit that my brain absolutely REFUSES to form, but I do go to the gym and do a huge range of arm exercises there!

[risingsunresistance]

youtube is experimenting with server side ads... the internet is actively hostile. why should i have to pay for the privilege to not be exposed to your shit moderation system. im constantly served homophobic political ads and cult religious shit, gambling is apparently too risky to show to kids but it's fine if the advertisers pay you, alcohol is great and fun and couldnt possibly cause someone to relapse, black and white one frame strobes are awesome, the real mr beast will give me $10k if i take this quick survey, and the young kids staying at my house get served TWO HOUR LONG ads because these vultures know the kids dont know how to skip. fuck you and fuck your website, im not paying money just because you cant do your damn jobs and actually keep this place safe

[frozenartscapes]

EdenAU idea where Loid/Twilight - one of WISE's youngest agents - is assigned to go undercover as a student in Ostania's Eden Academy to look into a few of the students most likely to go into politics. It's all going fine until one day when his gym class has a "wilderness survival" excursion way out on the grounds and he runs into this weird girl he's never seen before. She's about his age - maybe a little younger - but is decidedly not a student (evidenced from her lack of uniform, messy hair, and all the scrapes and bruises). Despite her wild appearance she was really nice and they ended up foraging for mushrooms together. But when he went back to his group no one believed him when he mentioned a strange girl he found in the woods.

He then keeps running into her. Turns out her name is Yor, and that she lives in the city with her brother. They moved there after their parents died and it's sometimes still hard to buy all the food they need so she often goes foraging on Eden's grounds (since it's the largest natural greenspace still within the city proper). He does try to convince Franky that she's real but there's always some kind of wacky circumstance that keeps her from being revealed to the other students. Loid is even starting to wonder if he actually saw her or if all the stress has finally gotten to him.

[artystaroc]

Could you perhaps draw Pomni pls she’s a little scrunkly

She's like a sad puppy, poor confused lil thing

[sealrock]

only thing I'll say thus far: paris who tf took you to ulta beauty, this isn't you </3

EDIT: this ain't about him but also rip and Fs in chat for achille's little bit of top lip

[lususnatura]

blamore having to wear things like back-less shirts / lower - cut tops and just items of clothing that will allow him SOME sort of free range of movement for his tail in general + will actually not constrict his rib cage may just make him a fashion icon y'all... sorry, i don't make the rules ( nah i'm just joking around with you guys LOL... mostly )

[tokiwarcube]

I think its funny that despite Skwisgaar being the most sexualized character in the show, he's always the first on my brain when it comes to all things soft and sweet. Bubbly feelings blooming in your chest, inside jokes kept between the two of you, midnight talks about all things great and small... Like yeah, don't get me wrong -- he's fucking insatiable. But I think he gets just as hard when you say "I love you," as he does to all of your most depraved and profane dirty talk.

[ladychandraofthemoone]

Traintober Day 3: Twins

“Hads you some Scottish twins angst”

“Thinking about my au and how Donald’s and Douglas entire story would work and I’m still not sure if adding this but in honor of traintober day 3:twins here it goes so here since my au is following more of sos storyline but still has rws/tv series tidbits the same thing still happens the twins flee to sodor scratched off the numbers but since it’s instead mr.Zorro and Mr.Starr, who are in charge has the two companies have not been melded together yet and despite mr.Zorro gruffness even he wouldn’t sent them back to a uncertain future and after talking about it with Mr Starr and within their respective engines they both agree on taking one of the twins for each of their respective companies Donald goes with nor’easters while Douglas with the midis.

So despite both twins being eventually purchased and thereby saved, they still end up “separated” from each other yes they can see each other it’s not forbidden but their coworkers fierce rivalry between each other separate company among other reasons slowly but surely begins to influence the twins themselves douglas is caught up in more criminal activities even with a guest nearly gone wrong (sorry Colin!!) and as a result of his coworkers toxic influence (diesel, Adam, Stanley mainly) the latter two who were against having him for personal reasons he began to like the independence forming bonds with those from similar origins/railway(Emily), those giving him a warm reception (Lily, Colin) or just those who welcomed him regardless of the whole rivalry(Peter, later Reginald).

Both receive praise and attention though I feel like Douglas more so felt a slight need to become one of the midis thanks to his coworkers’s attitude towards him like yes he’ll defend himself but it’s better to make friends than enemies when you’re the new guy with Mr.Zorro having favoritism and watching your every move combined with some rather unpleasant encounters from the nor”Easter’s side (mainly James who also unintentionally stains Donald rep but doesn’t say anything on it) I feel like a fight would come when Douglas come in painted blue as a reward where he is finally accepted into the midis where slowly but surely the cracks begin to show from when their visits to one another become sacred, withholding secrets (mainly on douglas’s side cause let’s be real I’m pretty sure no one wants to tell anyone you’re involved with criminal activity) just drifting apart from the brother you once thought you knew your entire life until it all eventually comes crashing down.

of course this is still a work in progress but this idea would be quite interesting. Reference:

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

telling myself that sometimes things do work out.

[ladykailolu]

Do you think that...for the rest of Klavier's life, he's haunted by the image of his brother? The Gavin brothers resemble each other very much in the face, so every time Klavier looks in the mirror, he can see Kristoph looking right back at him (without his glasses)