#and the plot problem

[world-of-fire-and-flight]

Your (non) daily dose of serotonin, and I solved your shipping dilemma!

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Superhero and Baron looked at their once friend and crush, Mirth, with tears in their eyes. "It was you? You were the mole? But- but- WHY?" 

"I'll tell you why! Day in and day out, work, work, work! Paperwork, paperwork, paperwork! And what do I have to show for it? Huh? No work from home, barely any benefits, and no dental!" 

Baron turned to Superhero, "You don't even have dental?" 

Superhero looked at the ground shook their head in shame.

"So, when Supervillain offered me all of the villain agency's benefits, while I was still working for the hero agency, I knew they were the right choice. They actually care for their employees."

As if on cue, Supervillain entered, twirling their (fake) handlebar moustache. They held out their hand amd Mirth put her hand on theirs while Superhero and Baron cried from their cell behind them. "No, Mirth, nooo! Don't choose them! Don't go with them!" 

Mirth didn't remove her hand and turned around. "Sorry." And she actually looked sorry. "It's nothing personal. Just good business sense." And with that, she stuck her new agency issued - ahem - villain agency issued handlebar moustache on her face.

Superhero and Baron resumed their crying, louder this time. So heartbroken, they didn't even care that they were hugging each other of all people. They couldn't even bear to watch their ex-friend leave the prison, her once heroic hand in Supervillain's villainous one, both evilly twirling their moustaches.

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Oh no! Mirth's gone rogue😱

That really would be the best plot twist I've ever written and I'm certainly considering it...especially as I'm intending on writing the next part today (whether or not that actually happens remains to be seen😂 It's been a very busy week so I might just chill today and catch up on some things I'd put on the back-burner for a while lol)

[the-whitehurst-files]

It connects, okay!

[randombook4idk]

some fandoms need to see this

[glasshouses-and-stones]

Do you ever just start writing and then it's a few thousand words later, and you're just like, 'Where the hell did any of this come from? This was not the plan. Wtf?'

[anthyies]

the thing about disco elysium is that it has women in it. what you see on the internet about it might lie to you about that but it has women, gay women even, very compelling women even, in it.

[egophiliac]

(almost) four years in, and I finally had time to draw something for the anniversary! woo! 🎉🎉🎉

[vvanillavveins]

Neurodivergent podcast-fan culture is being able to wax poetic for hours about the most miniscule of details in any given episode of The Magnus Archives, whilst also having to rely on transcripts to tell me what the sounds i'm hearing in The Magnus Protocol are actually supposed to be and then retrospectively working out what the fuck just happened on my 2nd or 3rd listen

[zu-is-here]

tee hee (*´∇｀*)✿

[ao3-crack]

(x)

[excali8ur]

Weird dream.

[alexxuun]

I need to know if other artists also experience this. Every time I tried, I have to hide my face and take +2 psychic damage.

[wandixx]

Danny, the Young Justice member snippet nr 2

these snippets aren't connected in anyway but just some little scenes I came up with, everyone is welcome to build up on them if they want to

Trigger warning: death mentioned, self-harm mentioned, idk, Danny gets flashback to portal incident

unrelated snippet nr 1, unrelated snippet nr 3 (?)

Out, out, out.

He tripped over his own legs and almost fell and it didn’t matter because he needed to get out. 

Away, away, away. 

He wasn’t sure if he ran or flew or dragged himself on the rough floor but he had to get away. His back hit a wall and he couldn’t get past it, intangibility just out of his grasp.

He logically knew that Zeta Tube wasn't the same as the portal but it was similar. So deadly similar.

He wasn’t sure when his own, corps-like, trembling with rigor mortis cold hands started rubbing his arms. He also wasn’t sure whether it was to comfort himself in this lonely self-hug or to try to rub hard enough that the hazmat and skin underneath would be torn, allowing him to see his own, red blood running in his veins. It was still red, right? It was still red, right? Of course it was still running, why wouldn’t it?

His knees gave up. He fell to the ground with quiet reverbatting thump, his eyes fixated on danger at the other side of the large room. He had to get further away but he couldn’t.

Because he was dying again.

Eyes full of tears and terror were jumping around, unable to see the room around him. Why couldn’t he see anything? Why were there only splashes of various colors, all contrasting with a light gray background. Were these people? Colors were moving, that seemed likely. Ghosts?! He had to get ready if these were ghosts he needed to fight them. People could be in danger and he couldn’t even stand without support. He started it, he had to take care of it, no matter how he felt right now.

His normally overly, unnaturally sensitive ears were filled with constant electric buzz from still active Zeta Tubes.

He was quite sure someone was yelling something but no matter what, Danny couldn’t understand what was being said. He tried looking around again but his teary eyes still failed him. There were no red stains though. Not in the right shade at least. No one was bleeding. It was okay for now.

Was it really? He hadn’t bled when he was dying had his accident though. It was all inside him, the crushing hollowness inside him and infinite outside pressure making his body implode. Ectoplasm bubbling in his mouth, throat, stomach and fingers, silencing his scream of agony and destroying his muscles. His limbs were limp and tense, twitching like a broken light bulb, out of his control but not out of his senses. It was so cold that it bit his bones and so hot that his skin was melting. There were screams so loud that it could shatter glass, as if every inhabitant of the Ghost Zone wanted to be heard and absolute suffocating silence. He was alone like nobody ever was and stuck in a stifling crowd that could stomp him to death any second. It was all contrasting, impossible but happening, existing together. He lived died it.

It was impossible, just like him.

There were others, they could help while Danny got himself together.

They couldn’t help if it was a ghost. He had to calm down and get ready to fight.

He couldn’t.

It was all happening again.

He was dying again.

It hurt to even think about.

Would it at least kill him for good?

Air he hadn’t needed before, not since his first death he always needed, like all functioning, alive human beings, got stuck in his lungs. He was gasping for it, choking on it. There was something stuck in his throat. SOme part of his brain that wasn’t screaming in agony and panic and loneliness had considered tearing his neck open just to get whatever was stuck swallowing but it didn’t help. 

He rubbed his arms harder. His eyes were locked on a blurred, still active portal. One of the color blobs moved, growing larger but he couldn’t think about what it meant. His arms hurt. It was good. Pain was grounding. In a gray room with few portals. Not the basement. Ghosts still could be there but it wasn't a basement. He still needed to get ready to fight

If he could feel pain, it meant he was alive, right? Ghosts never showed that they felt pain right? His parents always said they couldn’t.

He knew it was a lie but he felt like it was his last hope.

He realized that growing group of colors actually looked like a person but he had no way to tell whether they were alive or not. His ghost sense was quiet but he didn’t trust himself to not miss it. His throat was still shut tightly. His body kept twitching like a glitching character. No matter what, he couldn’t fight right then. He had to get himself together.

He scratched his arms almost violently.

Warm, soft, gentle hands pried his palms away from his arms. It wasn't a ghost. Ghosts weren't this gentle, this calmingly warm. Someone, someone who was alive, was crouching in front of him, face at the same level as his, hiding portals from his sight. Danny nearly sunk into their gentle touch.

“-om." their voice also was so gentle, filled with concern but firm enough to get to him over the buzz of portals. He tried to concentrate on this voice. He didn't want to hear portals.

"-ntom." It sounded like they were calling someone. He had to focus more to understand. Gentle grip on his wrists got more firm. There he was. He wouldn't feel it if he was dying again.

"Phantom." They called quietly, like little windbells Sam gave him as a birthday present. It was his name, they were asking him something he couldn't understand, something he couldn't do.

"I'm sorry."

He wasn't sure if any sound came out of his mouth.

Grip on his hands loosened a little, not enough for him to do anything about it, but enough to return to the pure feeling of safety and reassurance it gave him before.

“It's okay Phantom." they murmured. Danny nearly cried at their kindness and calmness. Air slowly started to fill his lungs again. It truly was okay, he wasn't dying again."Can you focus on five things you can see for me?"

He could do it. It wasn't much to repay the gentle person kneeling in front of him.

He blinked tears away and started the list in his head.

Black Canary in front of him.

Superboy in the middle of the room. He looked like he didn't know what to do.

Kid Flash next to him, ready to come to where Danny was shaking on the floor.

Robin and Artemis both made sure that Kid stayed where he was.

Miss Martian for sure feeling his panic and having trouble coping with this. He should calm down as soon as he can, he didn't want to cause any of his teammates too much stress.

Danny nodded, looking once again at the only adult hero in the room.

Molecules in his body were rearranging again. It all hurt.

"Thank you Phantom. Can you focus on four things you can hear?"

Five racing heartbeats.

One heartbeat that sounded more like buzz because of its speed. KF's heart was always weird.

Tapping of someone's feet.

Zeta Tubes.

He had been in the portal again, it had turned on with him inside again. He was dying again.

Next cautious nod.

"Alright. Now three things you can touch." Black Canary still sounded so calm, so sure she had it all under control. So contrary to her panicked heart. Danny wanted to believe her voice.

Canary's hands still on his wrists. In fact she was touching him more than he was her, but it still counted. There was some physics rule about it.

Cold stone he was sitting on. Weird, he was sure this cave was heated.

Hard wall pressing on his spine.

"Excellent. Two things you can smell?"

Jazz had done same exercise with him before.

Cookies made by Megan before she went on a mission.

Ectoplasm. Somewhere there was ectoplasm that wasn't inside him. He couldn't smell his own ecto. But there was no ghost in the cave. His sense was silent. It was there somehow else. It was concerning but not enough to make him panic again. They could handle it.

His lungs were still aching but air started filling them nearly as much as it did normally. His limbs stopped shaking so much too. He knew he wasn't dying this time. He was calming down.

"You're doing great Phantom. Now think, what's one thing you can taste?"

Aftertaste of ectoplasm he spat between the rough fight and the moment when Kid Flash rushed him to the nearest Zeta Tube, talking about medical attention. Danny tried to tell him, he didn't need that but he was inside before his explanation left his mouth.

"Do you feel better now?"

"Yeah," It was all he was able to say at the moment. He truly felt better but that didn't mean good. It was only a little less bad than shitty, one step from fully dead.

I considered writing continuation with Danny explaining a bit what happened and how he even ended up in Zeta Tube but a) lost spark to rewrite it b) hated what already had But if you want, I can probably rub my remaining two braincels together and continue. Or someone else can. Do it if you want to. Do it. Do it

[lannegarrett]

Writer's friends when they listen to the writer explaining the plot to their story:

[jays-doodle-spool]

someone should write a story where there’s ppl stuck in a time loop, but the pov is from someone who rlly doesn’t care. there’s a whole ‘protagonist group’ or whatever trying to figure out how to escape the loop but this dude has just kept living their life so no one has noticed that they’re also stuck. they’re just sipping the exact same coffee order for the hundredth time watching the group strategize at an adjacent table and thinkin “man, wonder if they’re gonna figure out how to fix that today.”

[paranoia-art]

°•°Habits to Give Your Characters°•°

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Constantly crosses legs when sitting

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Doodles when zoned out (if there's no paper around they could trace doodles like little hearts on a table or even on the back of their hand)

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Crucks knuckles

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Braids hair when their bored (or just generally plays with their hair)

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Stands way to close to people when talking to them.

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Avoids eyecontact when people talk to them.

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Clutches on to other's sleeves.

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Bites nails when nervous

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Raises their eyebrows when interested.

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Offers food to others, before taking a bite themselves.

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Scratches top of nails (like when you're scratching the coat of nail polish off your nails.)

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ Whistles to ease nerves.

Follow @paranoia-art for more!

Do message me if you have anymore you would like to add!

[cosmicwhoreo]

BEHOLD! I gave Pearl chronic headaches! now she's just like me fr fr-