No title available
šŖ¼
Three Goblin Art
Janaina Medeiros
I'd rather be in outer space šø
Mike Driver
Jules of Nature
KIROKAZE
Aqua Utopiaļ½ęµ·ć®åŗć§čØę¶ćē“”ć
Origami Around
Cosmic Funnies
Game of Thrones Daily
$LAYYYTER
Discoholic šŖ©
ā
occasionally subtle
Kiana Khansmith
Claire Keane
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
wallacepolsom
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from TĆ¼rkiye
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from TĆ¼rkiye
seen from Netherlands
seen from Ukraine
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United States
@providentially-demonic
So when my mattress broke a few months ago, @phantoms-lair donated way too much money to my Kofi to fix it. And of course, as per my way, I vowed revenge.Ā
It took a little while, but itās here. Thank you phantom for helping me out when I needed it. It meant a lot. Have some Mirrorās Gaze Fanart <3 (itās transparent!)
That is fan-freaking-tastic, Tristan!!!!
So... Are you that person who wrote the poly scooby gang fic ?
If you are referring to How the Mystery Gang got more together than ever. Then yes. Does that help?
There are other fics out there, like a couple from @phantoms-lair dealing with the gang developing a poly relationship, but that's the rambling ramble I wrote.
i keep telling myself i canāt handle longer projects but in the last four days i wrote 23,377 words just totally by the seat of my pants
This is the Good Post of seat-of-your-pants inspiration, reblog so you too may add 23,377 words to your WIP without a single moment of hesitation or self-doubt
Bursts like this are like
2021 looks bright!!!
Acceptance stick ass???
Get stick bugged
Aliens, get stick bugged, and never gonna give u up.
Only good things friends only good things.
Lookout fabulous joy
Chalupa galactic venture
Friends moult bug.
My 2021 is coming to you from the mind of Franz Kafka.
Acceptance, Anime, and Adventure
Galactic, Under the Bed, Look Out
Concerning
Galactic Alien Friends
Ummm. Nice to meet you... No probes please.
"Why here? Why now?"
Five years ago being able to be a giant flying reptile and live on a hoard of gold would have been great. Now Eugene was the Prince of one kingdom, Captain of the Guard of another, and engaged to the Princess of that kingdom to boot! He did not have time to get turned into a dragon!
He let out a puff of smoke in frustration. One day heād figure out all this magic stuff.
FFBT - Sister Act
Commission for @bruce-bannerd
āYeah Mom, sounds good. Next week, 2:00.ā Shaggy hung up the phone. He was fine. Everything was fine.
He was already going fuzzy, wasnāt he? This did not bode well.
āLike Scooby, call the gang! Itās an emergency!ā
~~
Keep reading
@providentially-demonic
As he ran a hand along the wooden deck railing, Gawain wondered what the park rangers thought of this strange cabin in the woods that hadnāt gathered any moss or mold in nearly a decade.
A larger part of him wondered why the place was even still standing. This construct should have faded away once heād lost the need for it, right? Yet he could feel the energy that formed it, buzzing ever so slightly under his hands, as strongly as the day it had first been createdā¦
He wondered if that said something about him.
Lance had been a little uncomfortable with the idea of Gawain coming back to the woods heād died in. By his nephewās own admission, this forest had been his prison for a decade. The man could hardly understand the need to come back to something like thatā¦but Gawain had been willing to ask for a ride in the truck to get out here, when he normally avoided road trips like the plague, so it clearly meant a lot to him.
Of course, Lance wasnāt about to just drop off his long-lost nephew in such an emotionally charged place and head back home. Heād resolved to lean against the side of the truck and just wait, for however long Gawain needed him to. He kept the radio on, too, playing the somewhat staticky strains of a local country music station, for Gawain to follow back.
Lance may not have been, in his own words, anĀ āemotions kind of manā, but never let it be said that he wasnāt observant as hell.
When he finally spotted a familiar red jacket among the trees, Lance sighed quietly in relief. But as Gawain came closer and closer, a dark shape followed him out from the depths of the forest, and that relief was replaced anger.
After all, it was a pretty safe bet that there werenāt an awful lot of large, black horses roaming the forests of Texas, and he knew of one specific large, black horse that heād given a very firm ultimatum to.
Faster than many would have given a man of his size credit for, Lance stepped up onto the back wheel of his truck and swung himself into the truck bed. Tossing open a toolbox bolted to the lining, he grabbed an adjustable wrench from the top shelf, and slammed the box shut.
āHey, Seabiscuit!ā Lance shouted from the bed of the truck, one foot hiked up on the edge in preparation to jump. Gawain froze in mid-step, clearly caught off-guard and confused by his uncleās sudden flurry of movement. āI thought I was VERY clear the last time we had a talk!ā
Calder laid back his ears and neighed a challenge, shouldering past the ghost, to ramp and rear in a threatening display. "I dinna recall you tellin' me where I can an' canna go, only that I'm nae welcome around your hellish shop o' cold iron an' your nephew. Seein' as he's nae here, why don' you just go right on back t' your unwelcomin' shop an' leave those with naught t' do with you t' their own devices?"
He reared again, though he'd go no nearer the truck and the madman wielding a wrench. Without taking his eyes off Arthur's uncle, he sidled his body between the specter and the human. "Y'might wanna get yourself gone, as he's like as nae t' consider you a foe as well."
Snaking his head back towards Lance, he snapped air, needle teeth clacking together. "Leave off harassin' those what offer you no harm this day."
@providentially-demonic hey what do you think would happen to people in the MSA universe that like ... were legally dead for a few minutes but then were revived. Do you think a small percentage would have some ghosty stuff going on, like a better awareness or whatever.
Also I had just woken up literally not a few minutes ago so excuse me if it doesn't make any sense š
I think it depends entirely on two factors. A) how sensitive to such things they were before and B) the amount of time they were caught between life and death.
If they are the proverbial blind as a bat to supernatural happenings, at best they might see things out of the corner of their eyes that are gone when they turn to look, or hear whispers in the wind that are too faint to make out. The longer they spent in the gray realm between living and dying, the clearer it would be, but they would never truly be able to see or hear things with any kind of clarity.
A sensitive would see them constantly, even when they don't want to. They would be like that old-time transistor radio that can only pick up one channel well and blares it constantly, and cannot be shut off. (There's a reason those sometimes feature in ghost stories, after all.) The longer they spent inbetween, the worse it would be, until they are seeing more of dead people than alive but constantly aware that the ghosts are there.
And woe betide a medium that spends time between life and death. They would have trouble telling living from dead (with the obvious exceptions like death wounds and skull faces of course.) They would eventually go quite mad, never being entirely sure if that nice old lady who spent a whole afternoon chatting with them with her fifteen cats was really a neighbor... or just a memory of one.
@phantoms-lair got anything to add to my wander into the weird?
Tagged by @allislaughter
Rules: Post the last line that you wrote, then tag as many people as there are words in the sentence.
The glint of a knife stared down at her.
:3c Nope None Context.
Tagging: @saintdeanthomas, @luke-fone-fabre, @kineticallyanywhere, @eeveevie, @its-sixxers, @phantoms-lair, @panconkiwi, @gentlydetecting, @thestarjar
Then they charged.
@providentially-demonic, @pitviperofdoom, @everystarstorm
āThank you for saving my sonā but donāt cost me a daughter doing so, please.ā
@chantillyxlacey @arthurtristankingsmen
The forest had never felt very welcoming, no matter how much time he spent there, but with the knowledge that someone out there might be watching made it feel even less so. A breeze rolling across the land caused the uppermost branches of the trees to shake and clatter ominously against one another, and Gawain couldnāt tell if the gust was a natural one or a manifestation of his paranoia.
He decided it was safer to assume fault, and get the heck out of dodge.
Out of habit, the ghost dropped his feet to the ground before walking away from the now-empty clearing, heading back the way heād first come in. A decade ago, it would have been an impossible task - the trees would have warped and twisted around him, letting him run in circles like some laboratory rat - but they remained right where they were as Gawain passed, stepping soundlessly around their roots.
When he could finally see the splash of color through the trees that was his uncleās old truck, Gawain let out a small sigh of relief. Good. He knew he couldnāt lose something he could see.
To think, heād been so close to the trailhead all those years, and had never knownā¦
Calder kept eyes and ears alert as he trailed slowly after the ghost. Just because he couldn't sense it, didn't mean the encroaching fae wasn't near. There was danger in these trees, and only some of it was from outside the forest. The ghost was silent and introspective the closer they got to the edge. Wind whistled in the upper branches, showering the trail underfoot with leaves.
There was something dreadfully familiar about the specter but for the life of him, he could not place where or when he might have encountered it.
They broke out of the treeline into the early afternoon sunlight, a direct contrast to the gloom that lurked under the branches. Up ahead, there was a battered old extended-cab pickup truck, gleaming cherry-red. And waiting beside the driver's side door--
Calder laid his ears back, eyes narrowing. "You--"
Could he unmake the cabin? Gawain hopped down the short steps from the porch and turned to look back at the construct. Heā¦had never actually tried before. Heād assumed it had faded away after heād finally managed to break away from the forest and get home, since heād been gone so long, but it had still been standing when heād trekked out to the clearing.
Gawain had never purposefully tried to deconstruct something heād made, but he remembered how Lewis had once described the process ofĀ āde-ghostifyingā (Viviās words, not his) a truck heād once, ah,Ā āborrowedā. Resting one hand on the railing of the cabin steps, the ghost reached out to the humming beneath his palm, and tried to pull it back toward himself.
At first, trying to break theĀ āskinā of the constructās energy went about as well as could be expected, for a first try. Then, suddenly, he managed to push through, and the energy rushed into him like a dam had been broken. The sudden influx sent a shiver up his proverbial spine, and Gawain hissed an unneeded breath through his teeth on reflex.
Wow! Had he been running at half cap all this time??
The cabin itself broke apart and dissolved like a sand castle being blown away in the wind. In only a few minutes, the only thing left to mark its presence was a rough, octagonal shape, where the loam and leaves had been shaded from years of sun, rain, snow, and wind by the cabin structure. Gawain shook out his hand a few times and rolled his shoulders, unused to the feeling of taking in so much energy at once.
āā¦right. Right. Turns out I can do that.ā His head was spinning a little, but he still remembered the strange not-horseās warning of a fae threat. āLetās, ah. Letās be off, then, yeah?ā
Calder watched with pricked ears as the specter unraveled the fabric of the cabin, taking the energies into himself, but not the unknown's invisible mark. The energies of the mark wavered for a moment before dissipating. Well, they surely knew now that something had happened. They'd be coming soon.
The ghost shivered as the energies he'd spent on the building reintegrated with him. He felt like a contained windstorm to Calder's senses, brimming with power barely held in check. That felt familiar too, much like a spirit he knew.
He tossed his head as the raven called again. "As y'say, best be movin' from here." Perhaps he should follow the ghost, make sure what had thought to use him did not get a second chance.
āā¦.uh.ā There was a lot to unpack from that statement, and Gawain wasnāt sure to start. Someone having an interest in his cabin? Someone having an interest in him? The talking horse??Ā The ghost blinked, and found himself wishing he hadnāt asked the Reptilitones to stay home from this little venture.
If theyād come along, he could have at least shared his bafflement with Griflet.
āIām-. Iām sorry.ā Gawain finally found his voice. āCan we roll the tape back, for a second, and go over the talking horse bit first?ā
Calder resisted the urge to roll his eyes but did flatten his ears a bit. āOch, anā Iām nae inclined tā dance round the subject. Iām no horse anā for as well as you pretend the part, youāre no livinā man. I can tell right well what you are, specter. Anā itās your energy what makes up that buildinā on the backside oā you.ā He tossed his head a little. āPoint beinā, youāre tied tā that cabin anā thereās a fae out here whatās marked the structure as theirs, anā likely as nae, intendinā tā keep the ghost what comes with it. Y'follow?ā
Calder chanced a glance around the clearing, one ear still pointed at the baffled ghost. He couldnāt sense anyone or anything close, but one couldnāt be too careful. āThereās old magic in these woods anā someone thinks tā own it for themselves, through somethinā tied tā it, namely that construct oā yours.ā Calder swung his head back around to face the ghost.
Gawain ran a nervous hand back through his hair. Alright, fine. Heād deal with the not-a-horse part later.
āSome fae saw my cabin, thought āthatās nice! Itās mine nowā, and will probably do the same to me.ā He recapped out loud, just to make sure he had things clear. Why hadnāt he run into this in the ten years heād been stuck here!? Is that where all of hisĀ āluckā had gone?
āWhat happens if the cabin goes away?ā Gawain asked. Probably bad things, if he had to guess. āI made it. I can take it down, too, right?ā
"Belabor the obvious, whydoncha?" Calder flattened his ears against his skull and bared his teeth, letting some of the glamour that hid them wisp away to bare a flash of the razor-sharp ones behind the illusion of normalcy. "Can you unmake it at this point? The magic in this wood is as much a part o' the cabin as you. That's why it's so appealin' t' a fae. Free magic for the gatherin' an' a bonus ghost t' bond in service."
A raven quorked somewhere in the shadows of the trees and both Calder's ears came up to alert on the sound. "Iffen y'can I'd be hurryin' about it. Because sure'n as I'm standing here, the one what marked it will come lookin' when you do. An' we'd do well t' be far an' away when they do."
āā¦.uh.ā There was a lot to unpack from that statement, and Gawain wasnāt sure to start. Someone having an interest in his cabin? Someone having an interest in him? The talking horse??Ā The ghost blinked, and found himself wishing he hadnāt asked the Reptilitones to stay home from this little venture.
If theyād come along, he could have at least shared his bafflement with Griflet.
āIām-. Iām sorry.ā Gawain finally found his voice. āCan we roll the tape back, for a second, and go over the talking horse bit first?ā
Calder resisted the urge to roll his eyes but did flatten his ears a bit. "Och, an' I'm nae inclined t' dance round the subject. I'm no horse an' for as well as you pretend the part, you're no livin' man. I can tell right well what you are, specter. An' it's your energy what makes up that buildin' on the backside o' you." He tossed his head a little. "Point bein', you're tied t' that cabin an' there's a fae out here what's marked the structure as theirs, an' likely as nae, intendin' t' keep the ghost what comes with it. Y'follow?"
Calder chanced a glance around the clearing, one ear still pointed at the baffled ghost. He couldn't sense anyone or anything close, but one couldn't be too careful. "There's old magic in these woods an' someone thinks t' own it for themselves, through somethin' tied t' it, namely that construct o' yours." Calder swung his head back around to face the ghost.
@providentially-demonic
As he ran a hand along the wooden deck railing, Gawain wondered what the park rangers thought of this strange cabin in the woods that hadnāt gathered any moss or mold in nearly a decade.
A larger part of him wondered why the place was even still standing. This construct should have faded away once heād lost the need for it, right? Yet he could feel the energy that formed it, buzzing ever so slightly under his hands, as strongly as the day it had first been createdā¦
He wondered if that said something about him.
This wasnāt his domain, but it bordered his. And like all with a territory to protect, Calder kept a wary eye out for encroachment. Someone was trying to set up their own claim on this border, this forest that tasted of old. forgotten magic. He did not trust that they came with good intention, either. It was always wisest not to trust the intention of other fae. It could always be a prelude to a attempt on his own. And while within his own territory he was strong, he could not beat back an army, so it was with caution he ventured here to this green, green wood.
He felt a pocket of some unfamiliar energy and pushed through the undergrowth towards it, ears and senses, both magic and mundane, alert. What he did not expect was to stumble upon the cabin, nor theĀ taibhse near it, both tasting of the same spectral energy, though that of the cabin had a mark on it, a claim made by one of his distant kin.Ā
Curiouser and curiouser.Ā
The sound of something moving through the brush was a familiar one - Gawain had often heard the wildlife passing by outside the cabinās walls, though he had rarely hung around outside to see what it was. He was a bit surprised, however, when he turned toward the sound and saw - not a deer, or a fox, or even a bear - but a large, dark horse, staring back at him from the trees.
āā¦.huh.ā The ghost looked around the small clearing the cabin had been formed in, but he could see no riders or cameras. Plus, the few park rangers who did patrol by horseback never came this deep into the forestā¦
Hardly any of them did, actually.
āThereās a horse in the woods. Right then.ā Gawain tried to shake off the strangeness of the sight. Just because heād never seen a horse in the decade heād spent lost in this place didnāt mean that a horse couldnāt live there, yeah? āYou must be a bit far from home, huh buddy?ā He asked the horse rhetorically.
The spirit looked passingly familiar, though he was fair certain they'd never met formally. He drew in a deep breath, scenting for things no mortal horse could sense. He could smell ozone and petrichor, giving him a fair estimate of the spirit's strength and affinities. Oddly enough, he could also smell a whiff of scales and desert sand... What on earth?
Calder shook himself out of his momentary introspection. This was no shadow of what had been, this was a fairly strong and anchored ghost, quite firmly anchored in the here and now. Was he aware that something had laid claim to the cabin, and through it, him? Calder doubted it.
"Nae far as you may be," he answered frankly, swiveling his ears forward. "Nor as far as you're like to go, iffen you're nae careful. Someone's developed a powerful interest in that cabin, an' through it, you."
@providentially-demonic
As he ran a hand along the wooden deck railing, Gawain wondered what the park rangers thought of this strange cabin in the woods that hadnāt gathered any moss or mold in nearly a decade.
A larger part of him wondered why the place was even still standing. This construct should have faded away once heād lost the need for it, right? Yet he could feel the energy that formed it, buzzing ever so slightly under his hands, as strongly as the day it had first been createdā¦
He wondered if that said something about him.
This wasnāt his domain, but it bordered his. And like all with a territory to protect, Calder kept a wary eye out for encroachment. Someone was trying to set up their own claim on this border, this forest that tasted of old, forgotten magic. He did not trust that they came with good intention, either. It was always wisest not to trust the intention of other fae. It could always be a prelude to an attempt on his own. And while within his own territory he was strong, he could not beat back an army, so it was with caution he ventured here to this green, green wood.
He felt a pocket of some unfamiliar energy and pushed through the undergrowth towards it, ears and senses, both magic and mundane, alert. What he did not expect was to stumble upon the cabin, nor theĀ taibhse near it, both tasting of the same spectral energy, though that of the cabin had a mark on it, a claim made by one of his distant kin.Ā
Curiouser and curiouser.Ā
6. Where do you usually find inspiration?
Everywhere. I can find it in the lyrics of a song, in the quiet murmurs of the wind through the tree outside my window, or simply a comment made by a friend. I can find it in art, be it fan art or a painting seen in a museum, or in the different shades of blue-green in the water. What lies under those colors, unseen?
A little poetic, but the gist is there. Anything that speaks to me can be a source of inspiration, even if itās just finding the right word to describe that particular shade of cerulean.
45, 46, 47
45)Ā One thing you love about fanfiction.
The ability to explore outside of Canon, The freedom to discover what might have happened between point A and B, or what happened after the credits rolled. Itās freedom to be creative.
46)Ā Whatās your favorite emotion to cause on your readers?
Happiness. If something I wrote makes them happy in some way, it makes me happy. Also I like seeing that moment when they realize, oh, hey that was an important detail to the plot but I didnāt realize how important it was at the time. That kinda ah-ha moment.
47) Whatās your favorite thing about writing?
The ability to share it with people. The ability to put into words the things I see in my head and having people say, Oh, I can see that happening.
