#a day later than expected..

[dreamings-free]

22/6/24

[nekoanything]

skki 💎🐚🌷

a you-and-me thing

[disposal-blueeee]

VARGASTOBER - day 1 : memories

[moodlesmain]

Hi. Look at this.

I just spent two days straight making a digital conspiracy board trying to piece together my favourite genre that isn't really a genre and more just a very particular niche which doesn't really have a name.

If you want to look I reccomend downloading and zooming in on the image to read everything LMAO, I want to try and convert it to a page on my neocities at some point so its easier to view but for now you guys just get a big ol' jpeg. You're welcome :)

[cerealmonster15]

a jamiazu sketchy sketch bc oh my god i am LOVING the energy these two are bringing with each other in this event!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! a win for the jamiazu community!!!!

[sapphire-of-midgard]

back again with more text posts (I have too much fun with this)

[alicornze7]

Waow my ask got pinned

Anyways I would still like to request a silly ribbun scenario please :3

sure go ahead^^

Ask away my friends:D

I spent more time on this that I'd like to admit

this is so bad for a digital painting but I'm a traditional artist and I miss the feel of paper:(

btw context in tags

[blorb-el]

we shall be free; we shall find peace chapter 7! it is 7.2k and i had to add a few additional warnings for suicidal ideation so mind the warnings. Clark Does Not Like Answering Questions: The Chapter.

[morrigan-sims]

P:WotR Portraits: Wenduag & Daeran

I did the one for Wenduag back when I was testing her legs, but today I got the idea to recreate Daeran's portrait image. I think it turned out really well, even if the colors aren't quite right and the pose is a bit awkward.

[reference pics and alternate crop of Daeran's portrait under the cut]

[gojocomeback]

heyyyyy.... i'm jiwoo, you might know me as chuu! full-time yapper, part-time performer, and did you know that i have a yt channel where i save the planet & feed people? now you do. 🫵

if you wanna know how cranes are built, yap about nothing or play 8 ball pool — find me at ufohours!

[suratan-zir]

R A G E

[stergeon]

> OTHER: Contrive some sort of SCHEME.

Oh, yes, this is very exciting. You love a good SCHEME, and it is marvelous to get to concoct one so early in the day. This bodes very well for how the rest of your day will progress.

Now it is time to play your favorite game:

“What could possibly happen?”

This is a very fun game where you attempt to devise every single possible series of events that could occur in the course of enacting your SCHEME. You play all of these scenarios out to their logical end and then some in order to guarantee that your plan goes flawlessly and that you have accounted for any potential risks. As you know, you are very good at thinking, and knowing things keeps your heartbeat regular and makes you not nauseous, so this game is one of your favorite activities.

You open up your JOURNAL and begin to take notes on your SCHEME. Since you are pressed for time, you do not delve as deeply into the potential scenarios as you usually would; although this unnerves you, you believe you have drafted sufficient options as to determine several effective courses of action. You wager you can exploit FERDINAND'S weaknesses for TEA and PHYSICAL AFFECTION to make him see reason and agree to attend BREAKFAST with you, ensuring he vacates your QUARTERS in a timely manner.

#008 | << | <- | -> | JOURNAL | HOW TO PLAY | ALL POSTS

[cconfusedkat]

Paloma, the Goddess of Tranquil and Grain: once a beloved figure, to being the one slain so quickly for refusing to give into War and Violence.

She stood by her people for 1,200 years, reassuring them not to give into the war, to not give into anarchy, and the messy crumbling society of The Old Faith.

Shamura was the one who had slain her. Their siblings could care less about one God who refused to let her people be guided to danger, but this deeply angered them. To prove yourself worthy to your people, you had to fight, to earn their respect.

Alas, Paloma believed the opposite… which was how all this led to her murder.

It wasn't an easy way out, either. Shamura made sure she understood, just as much as her people would entrust them. Bloodshed—a God going against her own word, to keep The Lamb's safe in her land—another obstacle out the way to prove The Prophecy wrong.

She of Tranquil: a Goddess that managed to split her own crown apart by not using its power correctly. To tolerate this set of foolish behavior, to corrupt your own crown rather for it to corrupt you, despicable.

[skunkes]

ok posting it here bc im not sure if its going to stay in the doodle page

[spikes-jonze]

Criterion Collection: Robin's Most Listened To Songs for 2023 (x)

For @madeline-kahn's birthday

[raineandsky]

For Old Time's Sake

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

“It’ll take a few days to ease the pain,” Skat says with a light smile. “A few weeks to heal entirely.”

Skat’s home—or so the prince assumes—is nothing like he’s used to. Wooden floors, slatted roof, bed of straw. Is this really how the majority live? How the hell do they do this? As much as the thought of home makes him sick, he does miss his luxurious quilts.

“Thank you,” the prince says not entirely genuinely. If the old knight has a time frame on his recovery, his chances of slipping away unnoticed are slim. Unfairly so. “I appreciate you not trying to sell me or anything.”

Skat laughs, the sound flattened by the dull walls. A laugh like that probably echoed in the walls of the castle, back in the day. “I still have to hold Gvette off yet,” he says brightly. He unrolls a slice of bandage, popping a bottle open from the bedside table. “She’ll warm up to you, though, I’ve no doubt.”

Gvette disappeared into the woods yesterday to wash the prince’s bloodstained clothes. Not voluntarily, mind—Skat had had to ask her to help several times before she begrudgingly grabbed them and made a show of dragging them along the floor on the way out.

The prince tries and fails to hold back a wince as Skat goes about carefully changing the bandage. The clean fabric, cooled by whatever the healing stuff is from that bottle, is what he imagines heaven must feel like. The old knight sighs in relief as he tosses the old bandage into the bin.

“Can’t help but ask, if you don’t mind it,” he starts slowly, “why’d you leave?”

The prince rolls the edge of the blanket between his fingers, his gaze fixed on the way it waves back and forth under his control like the ocean. “Why did you?”

There’s a moment of silence where the prince risks glancing up at Skat. He gives the boy a blank stare, blinking absently, before breaking into another laugh.

“Yeah, a’ight, touché.” He shakes his head, adjusting idly on his little bedside stool. “Don’t think you’d like my answer much, though.”

“I doubt you'd like mine either.”

“Well,” the man says with a grin, “how abouts this—I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours. I assume we’re somewhat in the same boat to both be out here, huh?”

It makes sense. Whyever the old man is out here can’t be too different from the prince, right? They both ran from the throne. Both escaped into the wilderness. Both– well, whether Skat ended up in a bear trap as well is a mystery.

“I’ll admit, your father made some poor choices,” he continues. He snivels shortly, dropping his gaze to the floor by the bed. “I couldn’t find it within myself to support a king I didn’t share beliefs with. They were big differences too—it wasn’t just a disagreement on the colour of the curtains. I couldn’t work knowing that what I did brought about terrible things.”

The king isn’t known for his kindness. His entire family isn’t. The prince knows this the best of anyone.

“That’s me,” Skat says with a deep sigh, like it’s a relief to be off his chest. “Your turn, kid.”

The prince opens his mouth, but words refuse to come out. It feels like he’s confessing some great sin to a priest—too much to the wrong person. Easy information to put in the wrong hands.

“It’s a’ight lad,” the old knight adds after a moment. His voice is soft, gentle. “I won’t tell a soul.”

That feeling, that lingering it’s dangerous to show dissent still rings at the back of the prince’s mind. But the man won’t tell anyone. Of course he won’t. They’re a world away from the dangers of the palace here.

So the prince sucks in a deep breath, steels his nerves, and recounts his story.

(next part)

Taglist: @bushfairy