#and the first sentence

[storm-of-feathers]

#ill post the full thing if u guys want when im up im ab to sleep #but the FIRST FUCKING SENTENCE

[saviourkingslut]

yeah yeah opening a fic and "he would not fucking say that" but what about you open the fic and "he would fucking say that". what about that pure feeling of euphoria when it's exactly right the way you like it

#would kill for the authors who manage to get my faves and their vocabulary/speech patterns exactly right #curry rambles #opened a few h50 fics that i Did Not Feel but then i got one and it was right from the first sentence so im Feeling It rn

[lonesome-dreamsss]

his handprint may be burned into your skin but it's still the gentlest touch you've ever received.

#smth smth destiel #cas was always so gentle with dean #he knew of dean's pain and wanted to ease it!! #he wanted to be a good thing in dean's life!! #when he pulled him from hell it wasn't truly pulling #he cradled dean like he was the most precious thing in the world #and honestly he probably WAS the most precious thing in the world to cas #even as early as then #to quote 'when castiel first laid a hand on you in hell he was lost' #god they make me insane #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #supernatural #does this count as fanfic even if it's one sentence #a poem perhaps #idk it's something that i wrote so i'll take it

[homeofwyrm]

I'm giving Anastasia a try, on the fence

#art #the locked tomb #tlt #anastasia the first #Anastasia the ninth? #She is literally so important to the plot of these books and we get like three sentences of secondhand lore about her

[spectral-honey]

AU where Jason gets his revenge by becoming a lawyer and getting joker sentenced to the death penalty

Bruce is conflicted about it but any time he tries to say anything on the subject Alfred just talks over him like "oh we're so proud of you master Jason you finished college and you didn't even use your father's extensive resources that could've easily gotten someone in this family a degree aren't we so proud master Bruce that Jason got himself a respectable profession--"

#jason todd #red hood #batfam #i also think it would be funny if thats literally the only thing jason does as a lawyer after that he just goes back to being a vigilante #everyone on the internet is like 'the iconic career of jason todd wayne: came back from the dead got a college degree got the joker- #-sentenced to death (finally) and then immediately fucked off to do whatever the hell it is he does for fun' #any time bruce and jason disagree jasons like 'excuse me which one of us is the college drop out and which of us is a practicing attorney?' #alfred 'you could have been a doctor but you became a furry themed vigilante instead' will never let this go #also btw jason just stole reasources from the league to get thru college. maybe at first talia was like what & then jason was like #'my alternate plan was to either get bruce to kill the joker or kill all three of us in an explosion' and talia is like #'okay. have fun at school sweetie' #BTW AN EDIT: this post is not reflective of my IRL beliefs about the criminal justice system or the death penalty #IRL those are way more complicated than gotham city/the joker/jason make it out to be #saw a few people tagging this post mentioning stuff about that

[yoakesan]

I am sooooo normal about him. *eye twitches*

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #enver gortash #tav #durge #dark urge #durgetash #dev notes #dialogues #but like the typo in the very first sentence makes this so funny #yea indeed #he is handosme and imperial #also i forgot #when he calls u a sight for sore eyes #like. 'gods. you're a sight for sore eyes'??? gods i want to do unspeakable things to him

[inkskinned]

i love my therapist but i hate being in therapy. 10 minutes before my appointment, i'm in a meeting with my boss - we discuss my artistic choices; my boss recommends i artistically choose less. 10 minutes after therapy, i wash my hair and think about everything that was said, and then i have to switch it off, like a lamp, and go back to work again.

i was on a walk the other day and someone had the perfect combination of his cologne and whatever-else. it was almost exactly his scent. i fucking hate that. after all these years, i remember that? i tell my therapist - i feel like a fucking wolf. try telling a middle-aged blonde lady. oh i scented him on the air. i'm 30, and i'm having a panic attack over something that would be a plotline in the omegaverse.

what they don't tell you about mental illness is that if you are lucky enough to survive it into adulthood; it becomes a weird slice of your life. because you do, eventually, have to build a life. i realized in a panic somewhere around 22 - oh. i don't know what i'm fucking doing, because i always assumed i'd just go ahead and die. i didn't die, and i'm grateful for that, and i'm very happy about that choice. but it does mean that i am an adult in an apartment, living with my conditions side-by-side like. oh, that's my roommate, adhd. ignore the glass, bytheway, that's ocd.

so you pick your stupid life up by the scruff of the neck and you're, like glad for it (so much laughter and light and friends you would have never thought possible, when you were in the worst of it). but it feels so strange to be dancing around these odd little microcosms, these patchwork moments of your symptoms. if you have a panic attack at night, you still need to wake up and walk the dog in the morning. if your depression is making everything boring, well, you don't have any sick days left, and a job's not really supposed to be that exciting anyway. your ocd tears out each individual leg hair, and then, an hour later, you sigh, patch up the bloody bits, and go get dinner with friends. and the life is kitten-quiet, mewling and pathetic, but it's also like - it's yours, so you're fond of it.

and it's like - you're real. so you still enjoy pushing the shopping cart really fast and then riding on the back of it down an empty aisle. and you're not, like, so sick anymore that when you accidentally drop a mug you burst into tears (except for the days you do that. which are bad). and no, you're not allowed around certain items anymore. oops! but you've learned to be good about brushing your teeth most days of the week. and yeah sometimes in the middle of the day you have a little freak-out about how fucking unfair it all is, how fucking hard, how other people can just do this without having to fucking hurt the whole time. and then you sigh and force yourself to sit down and fucking journal about it so you can tell the nice middle-aged blonde woman yeah i had a hard day but i practiced grounding. you still sometimes want to burst out of your own skin, but you force yourself to eat kind-of healthy and to take your vitamins. you let yourself chop off all your hair in the sink in a dramatic poetry of control and relief - and you also have developed good hobbies that help you move your body more frequently. you feel helplessly behind, lost in the shuffle - but you also practice gratitude, taking stock of what you have garnered. because you're trying. even if you're never gonna be normal, you have something... close enough.

and the little kitten of your life, this mangy, starlit tigercub, this thing you expected to rot so young: in your arms, it turns itself over, belly-up. exposing this new soft part, all the organs and guts. like it's saying i trust you now. you won't give me up.

#does this even MAKE SENSE!!!!! #writeblr #btw what im trying to express in that first sentence is EXPLICITLY the feeling of logging off therapy to immediately go back to work #like :) haha!

[acheemient]

If part 3 of 1941 is not "A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square" coming on the radio and Crowley standing from the table where they have been drinking wine and coming around to Aziraphale's side and offering his hand to Aziraphale to dance, and Aziraphale looking a bit wonderstruck and a bit delighted and taking Crowley's hand, and they slow dance, holding each other so close, and they look into each other's eyes, and Crowley whispers, "Angel," and he's looking at Aziraphale's lips with all the wanting in the universe written upon his eyes, and Aziraphale with a face that says he's never wanted anything more than to swallow Crowley whole so he can Keep him, and they lean in, and at the very last second, Aziraphale stops them and they are standing there breathing heavily with their foreheads pressed together, and Aziraphale whispers, "I want to; oh God, I want to," and Crowley whines and tries again, but Aziraphale pulls back but doesn't leave Crowley's arms, and says, "We can't," and Crowley looks like he's been slapped, and Aziraphale looks so heartbroken and says, "They almost caught us tonight, and they would have destroyed you" and then continues so quietly, like it's a secret, "I don't know what I would do if I lost you," and Crowley tries to protest saying they can be sneaky, they won't get caught, they can have this, together, and Aziraphale looks so sad and says, "Oh Crowley," and Crowley knows Aziraphale is so close to agreeing and so close to pulling away, and he whispers, "Please," and for a second Aziraphale looks like he is going to give in, but he can't put Crowley in danger, so he makes his face colder, and he steps out of Crowley's arms, even though it nearly kills him to do so, and he says, "Besides, you know Angels don't dance," and Crowley remembers himself says, "No I don't suppose they do," and he straightens up and puts his glasses on and pretends nothing happened and says, "Of course you're right," and they nod at each other and Crowley moves to leave the bookshop, and Aziraphale feels like he's about to lose something so precious that he will not be able to ever get back, so he calls "Crowley," and Crowley turns to look at him, and Aziraphale says, "Perhaps someday...," but he can't say what he really means (some day we can have that, someday we can be together how we want, someday I will stop pulling away), so he visually changes his mind and finishes with, "we can dine at the Ritz," and he prays to a God that he, in this moment, hates so, so much for keeping him from the demon he loves more than anything, that Crowley understands his true meaning, and Crowley looks like maybe he does and like maybe he still has hope, and he nods and says, "Stay safe, Angel," and Aziraphale nods back, and then Crowley leaves, and Aziraphale is left looking absolutely devastated and heartbroken and angry, truly angry, for the first time in his long and lonely existence that he has to be loyal to Her rather than to him, and he takes a moment, takes a breath, and walks silently over to the radio and turns up the volume on the song and closes his eyes and gives himself that moment to remember what it felt like to be held, to be loved, to imagine what saying yes would bring, then honestly what is even the point of all of this?

#good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #the longest run on sentence ever written #i think I'll write my first fic 🤔 #feels like i have it in me #***

[chubs-deuce]

unstoppable force vs immovable object is one of my favorite dynamics

#I am a secret third thing: I can make them kiss #also this reads a little out of order bc the meme format doesn't sound right otherwise but the first sentence is charlie the second is Al #charlastor #radiobelle #hazbin hotel #alastor #charlie morningstar #fanart #sketch #my art #art #digital art #just realized right after posting that I forgot his monocle again- whatever it's not like he looks consistent in my style anyways lol

[laundrybiscuits]

The officer leans close, jabbing a finger into Steve’s chest. “You’re damn lucky it ain’t ten years ago or one state over,” he growls. “You could be looking at a felony charge, serving 15 to life. We didn’t stand for this kind of thing in Hawkins when I joined the force.”

Steve just folds his arms and gives the officer a bored look. “Okay,” he says. “Good talk. Can I see my boyfriend now?”

The officer sneers, but he steps aside to let Steve through. They’ve got Eddie cuffed to the hospital bed with another gun-toting guard in the corner. 

“Jesus christ,” snaps Steve. “He’s not gonna escape, he can’t even walk right now. Why don’t you clear out and give us a little privacy, huh?”

“Sorry,” says the guard, not sounding all that sorry. “It’s for his own protection.”

Fuck. He’s gonna have to hope Eddie can follow his lead. All that practice pretending to be a wizard or whatever has to be good for something, right?

He perches on the side of Eddie’s bed and takes his hand. He can do this. “Hey, gorgeous. How’re you feeling?” 

“Uh,” says Eddie, eyebrows doing something hilarious. “Steve?”

“It’s okay,” says Steve. He rubs his thumb over Eddie’s knuckles. This is the most they’ve ever touched, he thinks—the most that was just skin, no layers of denim or leather in between. Not even a layer of blood and dirt. 

He swallows and keeps going, willing Eddie to develop freaky mind-reading powers all of a sudden. “I know you didn’t want to tell anyone about us, but I had to, baby. I’m sorry. I had to tell them you were, y’know, with me when…when Jason killed Chrissy.”

“You didn’t have to tell them about us,” says Eddie slowly. He’s giving Steve kind of an intense look. “Honey-pie. I’m sure there’s gotta be another way. One without as many consequences for you that you might not have thought all the way through.”

“There really isn’t,” Steve says. Thank god Eddie’s so quick on the uptake. Sure, he’s being a stubborn dick about it, but at least it doesn’t seem like he’s going to let anything slip. 

“Fucking hell,” sighs Eddie. “Don’t suppose we can put that pesky little cat back in the bag. Okay. Darling angel, light of my life, corndog of my soul, who else knows?”

Corndog of my soul, Steve mouths to himself. “Just the cops. And Robin and Nancy, obviously. And—oh, remember Hopper?”

“Do I remember Hopper, he asks. Oh, pudding-pop. The late Chief Hopper and I spent so, so much quality time together over the years; he was practically a father figure to me. And just as with my actual dear old dad, his departure was cause for great rejoicing in Casa Munson.”

“Sorry to break the bad news, then. Hop’s alive, and he—uh, he knows everything.” Steve tries to communicate the scope of everything by kind of tilting his head back and forth. “He’s been…helping.”

“Huh. No shit,” says Eddie. Steve can’t tell whether or not he’s getting it. To be fair, there’s a lot to get. “Okay, gallant knight errant of mine, any news on whether or not I’m getting sprung from this charmingly appointed dungeon?”

“We’re…Hopper’s working on it. That’s why I’m. Y’know. Here. To tell you that they know about us.” 

“Cool, right, understood.” Eddie closes his eyes, leaning back on his pillow. It’s so strange to see him in nothing but a hospital gown against white sheets. He looks like a wrung-out dishtowel. 

There’s a commotion from outside, raised voices saying something like you let him what and haven’t even interrogated the Munson kid yet and not a legal status you fuckin—

“Time’s up, sweetheart,” says Eddie, mouth quirking up into the ghost of a smile. “Anything else you wanna say before they decide to upgrade my security?”

“Uh,” says Steve. He’d mostly been focusing on getting the basics of Eddie’s alibi across in a convincing way, and he can’t remember if there were any other details Eddie should know. 

He hears the door slam open behind him, and panics. “Love you, bye,” he says, and ducks in to brush a quick kiss across Eddie’s chapped lips. The last thing he sees as he’s hauled bodily out of the room by a pissed-off detective is Eddie with his eyes gone enormous and shocked, lifting his uncuffed hand to his mouth, looking and looking at Steve like something is always going to be different from now on, forever.

(ETA: small continuation here!)

#dashed off 90% of this a little while ago based on a post that I now cannot find; I’ve been traveling and finished it up on a train this AM #but yes this is literally the same general premise as bonitabreezy's I Like to See You in the Morning Light #pls go read that instead #I know I’ve lied about this before but I’m really not planning to continue this at all! it is just a silly little thing! #also IANAL but afaik IN decrim’d sodomy in ‘76; 15 to life was the max sentence in MI for first-time & repeat offenders respectively iirc #steddie

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lan Wangji Goes To Lotus Pier AU: Part 4: Deranged Bedfellows

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.5)

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #mdzs au #lan wangji #nie huaisang #Yungmeng Jiang training arc AU #This is the *first* part of what was supposed to be a much longer comic (LWJ's morning routine in full). #I'll finish the remaining part as a reblog to this post! I just think this is the funnier chunk. #Lan Wangji absolutely is the kind of person who has a perfect internal alarm clock for when it is time to get up. #He already has a dedicated sleep schedule. He is accurate within 10 seconds of 5am every day. #I think the Jiang disciples are most likely used to waking up around 6:00-7:00am #But the allure of having a guaranteed time keeper getting you up in the morning is worth the earlier hour. #I imagine they started outside lwj's door and slowly moved closer as the weeks went on. #Now LWJ has to cope with being way too warm in the night from all the extra body heat. #LWJ is not a fan of this but they scamper off immediately after he wakes up and they at least show initiative to follow routine. #NHS joins in only because he is a chronically heavy sleeper and needs this level of intervention to get up early. #His boldness would be a death sentence in the cloud recesses but here? Whole new game. #Yungmeng Jiang isn't a lawless land. It's just a land with different laws. #And one of those laws is to forcefully domesticate the catboy coded Lan boy through any means necessary. #Completely different tangent: I drew the thumbnail for this before I did comic 134. I then realized they had the same visual gag. #So I had to space this one out so it didn't seem like I repeated the waking up joke. That's my secret and all of you have to keep it. #And in my land the law is that snitches get itches (telepathically transfers hives onto your body)

[p4nishers]

can't believe tom hiddleston ACTUALLY interrupted the interviewer to say "one last thing, i think mobius is loki's friend and i don't think loki has ever had a friend before" like king. i love how u felt the need to add that truly

#he's so PASSIONATE about them oh my god like im sorry but w sylki he was literally STRUGGLING to put sentences together and get his meaning #across but with loki he's literally just. rambling for a full five minutes barely taking a breath like he's so likes them together SO much #him interrupting the interviewer after half of a minute was so funny like u can see he's not paying any attention he needs to get this one #little thing in and what he says is just so sweet and i really love how he emphasis that mobius is loki's first friend basically every time #he talks about them bc he knows how very important this relationship is to loki and he wants to get that across. bbg always pulling thru for #us he's a real one #loki season 2 #loki series #mobius m mobius #lokius #loki #tom hiddleston

[hedgehog-moss]

I meant to go admire a frozen waterfall yesterday, but I'm scared of driving on slippery roads so I ended up abandoning my car and my dreams and just wandering about by foot, following random roads.

(These first two photos are a little bit blurry because I took them while walking, but it does give them a certain je ne sais quoi... They look like childhood memories)

The soles of my boots had zero grip and were therefore great for sliding, so I ended up taking two sticks and using them like cross-country skiing poles to propel myself forward on the iciest portions of the road. It was fun! Pandolf thought I was insane. He was being extremely prudent on the icy patches, testing each step:

At the beginning of our walk he was prancing as usual but then at one point his front paws slipped forward without warning, turning him into a very long slinky dog. It was pretty funny. I laughed. I admit. He wasn't hurt but definitely a bit vexed.

We did leave the icy road on numerous occasions, to slip under fences and cross promising pastures (promising = lots of footprints; potential friends.) We met several creatures! Like this adorable shetland pony—I tried to take a photo from afar, with Pandolf nearby for scale, to show how scandalously tiny he was, but that turned out to be impossible because he was too friendly. Every time I took a step back he took two steps forward. Clearly he thought he was even better-looking from up close.

We also ran into the darling goat I mentioned yesterday, and I was told by several people on here that she looked more like a ewe.

Sorry for the mistake! But also I tried to look further into this and became more and more confused, as every source that mentioned a foolproof way to tell goats from sheep was disproven by another source—I found one that said sheep had a split upper lip while goats didn't (and my mystery friend didn't), but then another website contradicted it. I ended up with 32 tabs open with photos of goats and sheep of all kinds, some of which looked downright bizarre (what's with the Jar Jar Binks ears), and I began losing my grasp on the concept of animal species altogether. I understood how Darwin must have felt when he tried to figure out the differences between species of barnacles and asked people to send him various specimens and ended up with giant teetering piles of wet smelly boxes full of barnacles in his study that threatened to collapse and bury him alive. Then I closed my 32 tabs.

Honestly ever since learning that some sheep have horns and some goats don't, I've been lost. Not to mention, our mystery girl had a sheep-like tail but a goat-like beard. Are there sheep out there with beards and if yes, how do we make sense of the world? We should be able to point at a mammal with a goatee and say "goat" without doubting ourselves. That's my manifesto.

Whatever she was, the goat-ewe was very sweet, and she baa-ed a lot—at first I thought she was making conversation and I politely baa-ed back, before realising she was calling her horse bodyguards, just in case. Two horses soon showed up from behind a tree, very "What seems to be the problem ma'am?"

I offered nose scritches to the friendliest of the two and she went to report to the goat like "We've neutralised the threat."

Let me insert another (blurry) photo of a travelling Pandolf to symbolise the passing of time before moving on to our last encounter:

... I also had trouble taking photos of this one at first, because she kept coming closer to inspect my scarf—I thought she wanted to explore my pockets for potential treats like Pirlouit often does but no, she was very interested in the smell (texture?) of my scarf specifically.

The sky had cleared as we went down from 1300 to 1100m, as if we'd slipped under the clouds, so I tried to take a photo of this nice late-afternoon sky, and the horse finally stopped focusing on my scarf and instead started insistently positioning herself between me and my beautiful landscape.

Look at this lovely golden light in the snow over there which I was almost able to capture!

Meanwhile her pasture mate was eating a whole broom plant, slowly and thoughtfully, which makes me jealous because my llamas are supposed to eat brooms and they mostly don't, they think they're too good for brooms. They eat the very young ones but not adult brooms, so I have to do the work of three llamas and cut them myself. I wish I could send the Pampses as interns in this pasture, to learn the art of brush-clearing from this wise old horse.

I tried to take one last landscape photo and gave up when the aspiring model came to pose again.

Where was Pandolf, you might ask? Pandolf doesn't trust horses, especially large farm horses, and was quietly and insistently trying to convince me to leave. When Model Horse tried to greet him (it looks like she's chasing him but no, she was just stretching her neck to sniff him) he beat a hasty retreat toward the icy road, his former enemy. Some guard dog.

It may sound like Pandolf didn't have a very fun time on this walk, slipping on ice and running from horses, but don't worry, he found plenty of suitable empty pastures to practise his favourite hobby! Though I think at this point he has moved beyond a hobbyist and is ready to play in professional leagues. He does this thing now where he jumps up a bit to gain momentum; I don't remember him doing this last winter. He's an entirely self-taught dog (in the art of snow diving) and I'm proud of him.

#crawling along #(* edit because the first sentence said 'today' but this was yesterday) #(i got distracted by my goat vs sheep studies last night and didn't have time to finish this post!)

[magpie-trinkets]

continuing that "maya tries to contact claire" post, i present you the post-Spirit of Justice follow-up

#post that caters to ME specifically #let me first tag #ghost trick spoilers #lost future spoilers #now that that's out of the way. you know who's on that suitcase ;) #also claire is fucked up by time travel shenanigans so it's possible let's just say #also ghost powers grow and change with time sooooo. let's play with canon #layton “i have a dead girlfriend” and yomiel “i had a dead girlfriend” bisexuals #also yes the whole gang traveled to london they're just strolling around #maya had unfinished business and now that she's more powerful she's BACK #this would take place 7-or-so years after lost future/plvspw so layton is in his mid-forties here. i had to look it so correct me if im not #also yes this is a crossover AU i have rotating in my mind i love the source material and layton's and claire whole thing no shade to that #powerful narrative that made me cry #but with aa and gt magic fuckery we have the technology #also about the jail bit. that's a fic i am writing (one sentence every month) #ghost trick #professor layton #ace attorney #my art #ms paint #GOD. that wall of text is surely something

[eggings]

happy disability pride month to anyone who has a disability from a condition that “usually isn’t a disability”. happy disability pride month to people with disabilities that aren’t often understood by able-bodied people. happy disability pride month to people who don’t have any official diagnosis yet. happy disability to people whose “labs look completely fine”. wishing you peace this july.

#first sentence is phrased a little weird but i’m mainly referring to adhd #and the amount that it is not taken seriously even when it majorly affects someone’s life #anyways sorry if i phrased anything bad these are all based on personal experiences #actually adhd #actually autistic #adhd #autism #ocd #pots #heds #fibromyalgia #disability pride month #chronic pain #sleep disorders

[ghostlycamper]

Do you guys think they were aware for a little bit when the magic started to leave their world or nah

#butterscotch butler sentenced to png #also first time drawing in the adventure time art style woo #prince gumball #gary prince #marshall lee #adventure time #gumlee #my art #fionna and cake #butterscotch butler #beatrice buttler