#and it cuts off abruptly

[yzafre]

Things I should have been doing with my creative time: writing

What I did instead: started on.... this thing

[puppyeared]

Dear Wormwood PART 1

(slight tw for bright color at the end)

[summerscaries]

If iwtv s3 doesn’t open with Lestat doing a genius lyric breakdown video or wired autocomplete interview mimicking s1 opening with the Daniel Molloy ad,,,, that’s a missed opportunity

[lynxfrost13]

I listen to The Red Gate by 1000 eyes for the hit game signalis and I try not to ugly cry about it

[diah-the-demon]

inspired by that one post that went by recenetly

[ashes-fur-andteeth]

Day Five: Fairytale

@nomae-week-2024

[roserocksrapidly]

Never ever ever ever ever ever in my life getting over the way these panels in vol 10 parallel each other. Just btw

[badnewswhatsleft]

dance dance mv — making of

[part 1 of 2. flip me over]

[volivolition]

"So you agree?" "That's right..." "What a waste of a lovely night~"

(^ the guy who is filling the brainspace with stars)

[drowning-in-cacophony]

gentle like a wave

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt 269: Living Weapon

[Summary: it's not as easy as thought to use this weapon]

“Bloody hell,” one of the men breathe, bug eyed and gaping. She sighs and places down her shears – her flower dead-heading is clearly a job that’s going to have to wait for another day.

They’d burst through the waterfall with gleaming guns and preposterous postures. The same story, then, and she reads that truth in the leader’s eyes as he blusters his way forward, a demand already tracing the shape of his lips. There’s an ugly-looking moustache quivering above his upper lip. She crosses her legs, tucking her ankles neatly away, backed against her latest crop of flowers. Sitting down, she’s found, puts them on the back foot constantly. They expect one image; have no idea what to do with what she gives them.

They’re all clearly shocked by what they’ve discovered here. What story was it this time? A push through the water and there would lie a sword, enchanted beyond all measure. Splash droplets from hair and wrap a hand around the greatest machine gun in history. Wipe eyes and find a bomb that’d end all wars. The leader – a commander, by the badge on his lapel – has begun to put together the pieces. Behind the water, behind all the strife to get here, and you’ll find a weapon. And well, it’s not bloody likely to just be her shears now, is it?

“On behalf of the United Squadrons, I am requesting your use,” the Commander says, wobbling himself to his full height. She presses fingertips against the seam of her trousers.

“That’s not how we do things here, Commander,” she says flatly, and continues before she has to listen to any bluster. “Tell me what you want.”

His eyes water. At his side, his hand flexes, though the handgun tucked in his holster remains sheathed. She hopes it stays that way: threatening their way to what they want never works out well. “You are the thing we’re looking for?”

How am I meant to know if you won’t tell me what it is? But it’s obvious, since no-one other than old Nana ever comes here for other means, so she gives him a gentle incline to blow his heartbeat wild. A bead of sweat hangs like a pearl, suspended at his temple.

“Then you must understand,” he begins, quick-paced, a little sanctimonious. “There is a war going on out there and-”

“No. I said tell me what you want. Not what’s going on.”

The man blinks. Behind him, his soldiers too. She sees the nervous licks of their lips, the hungry ones too. How long have they travelled to find her? There’s a hollow sort of look to their cheeks, but then she finds the soldiers often do end up concaved in face. Cheeks first, then the skulls. Once, such a man had stumbled in here and died before he could even tell her anything. His broken skull, along with his better condition bones, lie underneath the oak tree some stone throw’s away.

At least, despite the blinking, he gets to the point. “I want your power.”

“To?”

“To-? To destroy the enemy, of course! To bring justice to the land, to restore order, to-”

“No.” She nods to herself. “Next.”

The Commander stares at her, mouth hanging open. It’s quite an unseemly look to the man, so she glances to the man hovering a few steps behind. Maybe he’s the next-in-command, standing slightly closer to denote that; mostly, she just finds the next face she can. One hand reaching up, she beckons him forward with a twitch of her fingers, a raise of her brow when his step falters. His eyes dart to his Commander, uncertainty spoiling blue eyes like a damn rainstorm.

“What do you mean next?” the Commander blurts out with, cheeks going steadily red. “Didn’t you listen to me? I said-”

“I heard.” Her tone creaks, an old floorboard in distaste. “I’m not convinced by you.”

“Not convinced? Lady, do you know who you are talking to?”

She blinks, once. “Next. I won’t ask again. Either it’s next, or you’ll all leave.”

“We most certainly will not, not until you have-”

“Remember what you have come for.” Her voice now is gentle, in the way the sea goes before a massive wave rushes in to sweep a land clear. The Commander freezes, a man well acquainted with the gentle sort of danger. His throat throbs, a pulse she can see, easy enough to rip out. His eyes bulge, fish-like; she watches his thoughts go through him like the water from the waterfall.

There is this: the Commander might be the sort she doesn’t deal with, but he knows when to step back.

Stiffly, mind you, with his own distaste echoing around his face, loud as a church’s bell. Bewildered for a moment, his second is left standing on the precipice. There is a space to be filled, and she waits with expectation.

This second man takes a deep breath and a small step forward. His gun, which had been mostly lowered from the moment they’d all locked eyes with her, goes completely slack to his side. She reads his threading nerves, pounding a sickening drumbeat behind his skin.

“Tell me what you want,” she says.

The man exhales, a gust of wind to graze her cheek. “I want you to help us free the people.”

She says nothing. The gap in which to be filled, and he does not disappoint in understanding the intention. Cautious words, stalking a deer through a crispy field, he keeps on speaking.

“They suffer under a regime. I don’t know if what we intend will be better – I can’t predict it – but I know I want to try and make a place better than what it is. I want to improve things, for them.”

She taps her fingertips against the seam. “Thank you for your inquiry,” she says, and purses her lips. The man understands this too, bowing his head and waiting in silence, even as his Commander makes a few huffing noises somewhere behind him. She flexes her other hand, fingers weary already.

But this is how the agreement must go. They can ask, and if they give her an answer that meets her requirements, then she has to say yes, weariness or not.

A weapon cannot be too tired to fire, after all.

She raises her head, and gives him the answer.

[kbthebearcat]

WHEW BOY I have been sitting on this animatic for 2 YEARS 🙃.

I first posted this as a WIP on DA here and I planned on finishing it way sooner, but I never got around to getting back to it until now. I think the main factors that made me procrastinate so much was that for a long time I didn’t know how to fill in certain gaps of the animatic. I didn’t know how I wanted it to look… Then I finally chipped away at it again maybe last year? Or several months ago… and I finally filled in the rest of the gaps. And then, because I felt like the audio was too low, I wanted to put subtitles to make sure you knew what they were saying. But then that became too tedious, which made me stall more… and eventually I just decided to amplify the audio to make it louder, and ditch the subs. And now we’re here. I see things that could be better/fixed and made to look nicer, but I’m calling it done lol. Overall, I do still like how this came out, and even though it’s really janky and messy. Audio was taken from here!

[neytui]

Blackouts went so crazy yesterday, they cut the light 5 times in a spawn of 12 hours, I thought I was going crazy

[aquietjune]

I’m going through some old files in 4thewords to make space, and ugh, it is painful to skim through these not-even-one-year-old Oshi No Ko fanfic drafts…

[accultant]

you're not just a regular moron. you were designed to be a moron. (besties LOL)

━━★. *･｡ﾟ✧⁺ PORTAL 2 PROMPTS 

Katya likely will never understand just how literal and accurate that statement is, and Iago’s already thin patience ( always thin around Katya. like two bickering children ) is cut short at her stupid, dumb, annoying comment. Pretending as though they hadn’t been looking forward to this all day, Iago starts to look through their pockets.

“Oh, Katya, I wanted to show you something I’ve found for my shop. I’m curious if it works,” they say casually, changing the topic abruptly.

They pull the ornate dog whistle out with a flourish and only pause for half a second to consider the ire it might earn them from the rest of her pack if it works as well as they hope it does. Worth it. tweeeeeeeeeee~

[yujeong]

Pete's heartbeat has calmed down, as has his breathing. Now, only the sweet ache remains. Lingering on all the parts of his body Vegas touched. Vegas lays next to him, his hand supporting the weight of his head, his fingers running softly through Pete's hair, unlike before. Pete doesn't really have a preference, he's come to realize; he just likes it when Vegas takes care of him, no matter the way he does it. It's soothing, pleasant. He starts drifting; he'll probably be asleep soon, at this rate. Vegas' voice snaps him out of it. "You almost said it this time." The words make him suck in a shallow breath. He knows what Vegas means. It almost slipped out of his mouth, before he became aware of himself long enough to gulp it down. He hums. He doesn't open his eyes. "Hey, Pete," Vegas says in lieu of a proper answer. Pete prepares himself; he knows he won't like the next part. "If you had to choose between telling me you love me and having your dick cut off, what would you do?" Pete opens his eyes. He can see it: behind the bland expression on Vegas' face, the desperation in his eyes couldn't be more clear. It takes Pete half a second to decide. He turns around and grabs the knife resting on the bedside table. Vegas stops him. "Are you out of your fucking mind?!" Pete almost laughs, but manages to hold it back. "You told me to choose." Vegas' face morphs into something Pete hates. He looks hurt. He shouldn't be, not when he was the one who asked. Pete hands him the knife. "We don't need it for this, right? You can cut it off, if that's what you want." Vegas' eyes widen. He looks... scared, is how Pete would describe it. He almost says something about it before Vegas speaks first. "Pete... is it so difficult for you to say it?" Pete remains silent.

[centipeettle]

This has been just sitting in my pile of WIPS and never plan on finishing it, so here is a little animation that I started a while back!

(Doja Cat super sucks but I really dislike making animations w/o sound OTL)