[The artist, putting a simple cake next to a much fancier one: “Aw man, that guy’s cake is way better than mine.” The Audience, gleefully holding up a knife and fork “HOLY SHIT! TWO CAKES!”]
I know it’s not July yet, but guys, happy 10 years of “two cakes”. This post on god has been a godsend not only as a writer myself but as a friend of artists and writers who I love to encourage. This was legitimately a game-changer.
All right, hold on – is there anyone in this room who wasn't grown in a tube by a shadowy quasi-governmental conspiracy as a living weapon? Anyone at all?
what they don't tell you about living in a place too light polluted to ever see stars is that finally getting to is such a deeply harrowing experience and it is truly impossible to tell of the tears are of joy and awe at such incredible beauty or of grief at this miraculous world of light and wonder that was taken from you
OMG I SAW THIS LAD IN PERSON AND LOST EVERY OUNCE OF SHIT I’VE EVER POSSESSED
Look at him!
Also he was separated with one of his parents when I saw him but obviously wanted to Be Where The People Penguins Are so they’d set him up with a little rock stool so he could gaze upon his brethren:
Which enabled me to capture the single funniest video I’ve ever taken of anything in my life:
Ilustration for the first chapter of my Apothecary Diaries fic Mothers and Fathers on which I got a few scam comments, describing the chapters after putting them into an AI machine and offer to illustrate them (from registered users...). I thought the best way to tell them to fuck off would be to make my own illustration, bc I can draw :)
Casey's sitting on the ledge, where she usually watches the sun rise or the city pass by floors below. Tonight, she's not watching anything. Her face is buried in her knees.
Atlas hesitates, but she's so still, so quiet. They move closer.
The setting sun catches the red undertones of her hair, braids falling around her face instead of pulled into their usual bun. It paints the edges of her silhouette in gold. Atlas blinks away sunspots and stops at the edge of the roof.
"Casey?" they say softly.
Casey sighs behind her knees, but she doesn't move.
Atlas rubs at their face with their hands, then just. leaves 'em there for an indulgent second. Any of the others would know what to do, what to say. Atlas…doesn't.
When Atlas looks again, Casey's looking back, just with one eye and most of her face still in shadow.
"None of the others wanted to look for me after all that?" Casey asks, dry.
'All that' being a new and terrifying surge of power that exploded off of Casey after a minor argument between them all. Casey's never been the hardest hitter on their team, but she knocked all of them back several meters with one accidental blast.
"You know what they're like," Atlas says.
"I know what they're like to you."
It's stupid to feel stung by that, because uncomfortably honest truths are what Casey does. And almost everyone has moved past their distrust of Atlas. In fits and starts. Mostly.
"You're not me, Case. They trust you, it's just…none of us take change well."
Casey puts her knees down but turns her face stubbornly away, so Atlas can just see her cheek and jaw, the tension there.
"You think? I'm not taking this well. Things are happening to me, Atlas, and I don't—"
Her voice cracks on that last word, and Casey falls silent.
"You're changing." Atlas sits down, too abrupt. Casey jolts a little in their peripheral vision, but they keep their eyes on the people below, tiny and faceless. "You don't know why, or when it will stop, or how much of you will be left when—if—it does."
"I don't mean this the way it sounds. But I don't wanna be like you." Casey's so quiet that Atlas can only barely hear the words above the ambient hum of traffic and electricity.
Atlas shrugs.
"I don't wanna be like this either, frankly," they say. Maybe Casey needs to hear some uncomfortably honest truths herself. "But what other choice do we have? Die? Maybe you're noble enough for that. I'm not. You're the best of us, Casey, but I really hope you don't let that be the death of you. We need you."
"Not like this. You haven't even seen—" Casey cuts herself off, turns even further away.
Atlas reaches out. They put one hand on Casey's shoulder, turn her back towards themself.
"You don't need to hide from me. Not from me of all people."
She still won't look at them, so they slowly put their fingers to her face, hidden from them. She's so warm, almost feverish, and Atlas resists the urge to flinch away from the heat. She follows the barely there touch and finally, finally meets Atlas's eyes.
Her eyes aren't brown anymore. They're some indeterminate metallic colour. Red, Atlas thinks at first, or gold? Something outside the normal spectrum, maybe. Not just the irises, either, the whites of Casey's eyes and the pupils alike have been swallowed up in this new colour.
There are lines of the same shimmering metal spreading from Casey's eye sockets across her face. They seem random, until Atlas spots the knife abandoned on Casey's other side, dripping that same ichor.
Atlas doesn't visibly react to Casey's attempted self…eye removal? Jesus. Later. Right now, Casey needs them to look at her unflinching, like nothing has changed. She needs them to drape an arm across her shoulder despite the heat pouring off of her, and she needs them to treat her like it's any other night.
so ive got these rings ive been wearing around alot and so now even when im not wear them i can still feel them like they’re there and its gotten to the point where one time i actually thought i was wearing them until i looked down
anyway thinking abt a whumpee with this same problem but instead of rings, its restraints the whumper put on them…
ohhhhh i love this idea tons! for long term restraints like collars or chains or handcuffs... very tasty.
constantly touching that strip of skin because the absence of the restraint(s) feels all wrong and it sets them on edge, especially if whumper used to take it away as a punishment
feeling naked without it, and covering it up with some other accessories: scarves, bands etc
you know when you kind of tan around the covered part? that— it stands out so starkly, and whumpee is so afraid of having to answer, explain themself
heightened sensitivity near the newly exposed skin, flinching or getting defensive when anyone tries getting closer
there are places in the world today that are experiencing 40°C for the first time in recorded history. of course there's no way to know whether chucking billionaires into volcanos will appease the sun god but i feel we're doing the scientific method a disservice if we don't at least try
hello from the desert! about 16 years ago we recorded what was then the hottest temp ever recorded anywhere. it became a cultural meme. there's a place called "52 degrees" because... yeah, there's no way it's going to get worse, right? right??
anyway i've seen 58 with my own eyes in recent years and it's probably +60 in more crowded places. i am physically no longer capable of leaving the house in summer, not without great effort and even greater consequences. it got harder to drive in the heat. by the time i drove the 15-20 minutes to work i was already done. to be clear we have ac everywhere! that's how we're alive here in the first place. anyway may i suggest:
this research would benefit from variety! let's collate everyone's ideas and measure efficacy under different parameters :)
