#i'll count that as a win.

[braisedhoney]

i think a lot of the stuff you've made is already inherently beautiful and meaningful. you put time and effort (however small or large) into every line you've ever drawn and every word you've ever written. what you make is a product of millions of years of evolution and decades of personal experiences that have all culminated into that one moment where you sat down and decided to create. every little piece of time and work put into willing something into existence is so minimal and meaningless in the scale of the universe and because of that it is so so so large and sacred. i know that you're likely looking for a specific kind of beauty and a specific kind of meaning that you don't feel like you've achieved through the things you've already made. but i also know that there are dozens or hundreds or thousands of people out there that have been looking for their specific kind of beauty and their specific kind of meaning that found it through what you've made. the act of creation is beautiful in and of itself, regardless of the source or product. im glad to have seen your creations through this silly little app. hope you're having a good day!

;; anon... god this is sweet.

genuinely, i wasn't looking for compliments or anything like that, it wasn't a vent post. i was just expressing a bit of my frustration with the work i've been doing/have done. you did definitely nail it right on the head about looking for something though ^^;

i think most artists struggle with searching for a specific idea that they don't feel they've reached with their own work, or that they see in others. it's just part of the artistic process i think, which is both what makes it satisfying and what can be frustrating. double sided coins and all that — progression is great, but it does make the stagnation sting a little lol.

the fact that you sent this does mean a lot, seriously. it's exactly why i always make annoyingly long tag commentary paragraphs on art reblogs; because i want to point out every detail of every piece of art that i can. it's my way of communicating my appreciation for other artists and their hard work. (and hey, i like reading tags, i hope they do too.)

it's easy to get lost in things like comparisons without analyzing what it is you can do as an artist to improve and bring yourself closer to whatever it is you're looking for. but just because i may not be satisfied with it doesn't mean that invalidates the meaning or beauty someone else might have found in my art. i don't like invalidating other people's feelings, especially when it comes to stuff like media or music or generally harmless things that make them happy. at the end of the day i share my art here because i want people to enjoy it with me, and also to share in the brainrot. it's fun that way.

i appreciate this reminder of that, it's very kind <3 thank you.

[useragarfield]

9K MAKE ME CHOOSE:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ @sharpesjoy & @yelena-bellova ASKED: Mark/Lexie or Jackson/April?

I know who she is, and if she's going through her worst right now, I wanna go through it with her. She makes me happier than anything I've ever known. And if I can have a part in making her happy again, that's all I want to do. That's all I want to do for the rest of my life.

[casscainmainly]

you’re soooooo right for the cass and jason stuff. i am obsessed with how their views make them behave in their own separate selfish ways. cass needing to believe people can change and be redeemed because she herself needs to believe she can be redeemed…… im thinking specifically in batgirl where she tries to save a murderer from death row. saying “maybe he changed” to the victims mother….. and then everything with jason really, the way he can’t see beyond how he was a victim to see how he has hurt and victimized others. how he has made himself into someone who really can’t see beyond his own tragedy in many ways… how he sees bludhaven literally blow up but refuses to let bruce leave to find Dick

YOU'RE so right because it's easy for people to side with Cass or Jason only, but it's more interesting to see it as neither being 100% in the right. That issue in Batgirl is literally so good - as this post points out, the crime the guy was in prison for was most likely a hate crime. The motive doesn't matter to Cass, since her belief is that no one should die, but it's deliberately disquieting that she doesn't stop to consider the victim until the victim is actually in front of her. Her point of view is focused around redemption and absolutes, to the detriment of justice and specific circumstances.

Jason, on the other hand, is so focused on justice that he has trouble making room for redemption. His is a situational ethics (in contrast to Cass' moral absolutism), which can be good in certain instances (like, debatably, killing the Joker), but can lead to really muddied actions and reasoning. Jason, like Cass, is fundamentally compassionate, but his actions are calculated in a way Cass' is not, leading him to sometimes lose sight of saving lives as the original goal.

Bruce, Jason, and Cass form a really interesting triangle of people whose views on murder are irrevocably tied to the perspective they witnessed the defining murder of their lives in. It's why none of them (yes, even Cass and Bruce) can ever truly understand each other, but also why they have a lot in common. Idk it's just very interesting to think about!

[akantorrr]

Dying halo

Based on this post:

I did say I'd draw it >:0

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Advanced Interrogation Technique: Dog

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[kathairoette]

I like the idea of post-canon Atem retaining most of his 'royal habits', including keeping calm and looking serious even when under pressure. The unstoppable force, only matched by the immovable object, otherwise known as Yuugi "little shit" Mutou.

Bonus:

[karleksmumskladdkaka]

Diabolik Lovers Dark Fate Vol. 3 Chapter of the Last Quarter — Short Story Translation

A short, sweet, and comedic tale about the Mukami brothers being supportive siblings… and nearly committing accidental fratricide in the process. Meanwhile, Yui watches with increasing concern as the disaster unfolds.

Please refrain from using or reposting the translation anywhere without my permission.

[Note: The story is written in Yui's POV.]

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅✮⋆⋅

"Uh...something's wrong..."

Kou-kun groaned as he stared down at the pot.

"Should I help after all?"

"Eve, you mustn't get involved...okay? Just quietly watch over us."

Even though he said that, an increasingly terrible smell was spreading throughout the kitchen. Despite being told not to interfere, I was starting to get a bit worried.

"Maybe it needs some sugar-chan!?"

"Ah!!"

Before I could stop him, Yuma-kun dumped several sugar cubes into the pot, filling the room with a foul stench. I felt a sense of despair.

The whole mess had started when Ruki-kun injured his hand.

"Ruki-kun always cooks for us, so let's all pitch in today!"

And so, Kou-kun's plan of making dinner ended up as disastrously as I had feared.

"...This is...?"

"Well... It's supposed to be curry..."

Kou-kun glanced at me as if pleading for help. When I looked at Yuma-kun and Azusa-kun, they averted their eyes. In short, something horrible had been created. Its color was... to put it nicely, pitch black. After tasting it, Yuma-kun commented nonsensically that it was "bittersweetsalty". Dubbed "Mukami Brothers' Style Curry" it had transformed into a mysterious substance resembling anything but curry. Just by looking at it, anyone would instantly recognize it as inedible.

Yet, Ruki-kun was peering at the plates lined up on the table with a happy look on his face.

"Maybe it's better if we don't eat this..."

In spite of Kou-kun's uneasiness, Ruki-kun scooped up the substance with a spoon and brought it to his mouth.

". . ."

"It's disgusting."

We all shared the same fear. That even though he's immortal, Ruki-kun might die from this.

Despite his words, Ruki-kun's expression suddenly relaxed. We stared at him in amazement.

"R-Ruki-kun...!!"

"Ruki..."

"Ruki...! Damn it! Yer such a...!"

The three brothers, seemingly drained, collapsed to their knees on the spot. Ruki-kun simply watched them in silence as he continued to eat.

And then, afterwards—Ruki-kun was bedridden for three days and nights. Even though Vampires aren't supposed to get sick...

Seeing this, his brothers made a firm vow to themselves. They would never try to cook again.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅✮⋆⋅

[dont-open-dead-inside-25]

*voice of boy who just experienced romantic/sexual attraction for the first time* did you guys see that. that was insane. wdym you live like this

[roxysillymode]

I'm counting Noah as bi representation because ROTB kept hinting at romance between him and Elena but I don't think the movie realizes the levels of fruitiness going on between him and Mirage

[khinesthetic]

A Fancy Lance from @teamxdark's gorgeous fic May I Kiss You?

[the-eclectic-wonderer]

Oh wow. Today's entry is something else. I remembered the scene with the three vampire women was memorable, but the sheer tension of it, the way Jonathan describes being torn between desire and terror. An agony of delightful anticipation. No wonder people have been thirsting after vampires for decades, holy shit.

[pokimoko]

I have had it with these motherfucking spam bots on this motherfucking site.

[fumbles-mcstupid]

got my staunch anti voting family to vote (mostly). also I came out to them.

the latter is not nearly as causative for the former as you'd hope. but.

[flynncorvus]

"We'll Meet Again ~ Don't Know Where ~ Don't Know When ~ But I Know We'll Meet Again Some Sunny Day ~"

We'll Meet Again [] Vera Lynn 1935-01-16

[harryandmeghansussex]

"MailOnline has terminated the contract of its columnist Dan Wootton." Well I'll drink to that, cheers folks! 😘

[come-down-that-tree]

Prologue Previous

Warning: unjustified violence against a sweetie and some paaanicking :(

Come Down That Tree! (An aftermare story)

Chapter 16: Kutya pamutambo wemaruva

A week or so had passed since his little soul-to-soul with Geno and his injury…

While that arm was not fully healed yet, the other didn’t seem that bothered about it and even regained almost all of his limb’s mobility. He told them he got all of it back but Nightmare noticed how stiffly he moved it and how he favored his right even though it was obvious it wasn’t his dominant hand. 

Nightmare bit into his piece of pear pie. It was sweet and juicy. They didn’t have such high-quality snacks everydays, so he was planning to enjoy it.

How long has Geno been here now?

The weather had yet to turn cold so it couldn’t have been that long.

It felt like it however.

The guardian licked his fingers clean and glanced at the other two. They were silently sharing some lemon bread.

The village must be in a good mood, it was more and more frequent to see Dream coming back bearing a full basket of food and gifts. They even now had a spare blanket and an old cushion they decided to lend to their guest.

…Do you still consider someone who stayed for long at your home and wasn’t showing any sign of moving out as a guest?

Geno met his eyes and slightly inclined his head.

He averted his gaze to watch a random blade of grass.

Oh, a ladybug.

“Is the pie any good?”

Nightmare nodded in his brother’s direction, not feeling like talking just yet.

“Nice. I���ll keep my part for later.”

If the definition of “guest” was, as of now, outdated to describe Geno then…what was he? 

“I’ll put the basket away. You should go for an afternoon nap, Geno, you look tired.”

That was true the other had progressively slouched against his cushion during the meal and his dimming eyelight seemed to scream sleep.

He didn’t even answer the proposition and promptly klonked out.

That capacity to fall asleep fast and clean was impressive. 

Nightmare stood up, dusting himself off and calmly helped Dream cleaning the last traces of their meal…while keeping an eye on the sleeper.

He couldn’t help but be pensive about all that.

He couldn’t lie to himself anymore. He didn't hate Geno. He didn’t fear him either, even though he saw hints again and again of how volatile and dangerous he could be.

Nothing happened recently.

It had been quiet.

They talked a lot. About books. About the sky. About childhood adventures and stories.

It was… nice.

And if he often found himself slightly leaning against his shoulder to sleep at night, that was his problem.

Two amber wells entered his field of vision without warnings and startled him.

“What are you thinking about ?”

He caught himself with one hand against the tree before answering.

“Nothing, nothing at all.”

He couldn’t say any of his thoughts, he wouldn’t hear the end of it if he told him he was thinking about how he didn’t despise Geno anymore.

“Hmmmm, I’ll let that slide… For now!”

With that said, Dream all but jumped on him and he barely avoided falling again. Shifting his feet to stand steadier, he glared at his brother.

This one was making pitiful wet eyes and he knew -oh he knew…- that he was going to be asked something he wouldn’t like soon.

“Soooo, I was thinking…”

And there it was…

“What were you thinking…?”

The doubt and carefulness he tried to convoy didn’t seem to deter his brethren. Sadly.

“You noticed how I’ve been given more gifts recently…?”

“I did… I assume the village’s mood is high for some reason?”

He got shaken quite roughlessly by that overly excited puppy.

“YES! Today is the first day of the Verflor festival so place is absolutely decked out in flowers! And there’re food stands and dances and music and we need to go!”

Nightmare gripped his arm, focusing on the sensation of a fistful of fabric under his fingers.

“We…?”

“...Yes, we. Come on! It’s been ages since the last time you went down! You didn’t even go borrow books recently…”

Dream trailed off for a second before bouncing back into his plea with gusto.

“I know we’ll have a blast! I’m pretty sure the central bookstore said they wanted to put up a stand with newly arrived finds, you can’t miss that!”

Oh he could. But the offer sounded slightly less bad after that statement, somehow. He was still not convinced.

“I’m not su-”

“And don’t wake up Geno. Guy’s great but you spent so much time with him recently. Can’t I request some wholesome brother bonding time when I really feel up to it?”

Yeah, he was not winning against this one. Might as well give up, enter the village for five minutes, find a random excuse and go back right away. Easier than to argue now.

“...Ok, fine. We can go for a bit.”

He was promptly released as Dream twirled around, looking truly enchanted by the news. After a few seconds of this show, Nightmare was once again caught by the arm and pulled harshly enough to make him stumble (again). 

That day was going to be exhausting, wasn’t it?

“LESSSSS’GO!”

Surprisingly, the ruckus did not rouse Geno out of his food coma and they runned down the hill, clumsily, as they dug every once in a while their elbows into each other’s ribs.

And soon.

Sooner than Nightmare would have liked if he had a word on the matter.

They reached the village.

And, as promised, the verflor festival was in full display.

Fresh flowers -that kids must have collected early in the morning- were decorating every possible surface. Daylilies and bacopa pots were proudly displayed under each window. The mix of perfume was so strong that he wondered briefly how nobody fainted yet -as far as he knew. A bird-like teen was running around with a water can, making sure the heat was not getting to the vegetation.

That task must have taken all their focus as they almost bumped into him…and apologized without even looking.

The lean feathered guy just runned off to their next pot and fussed over a slightly damaged balloon flower.

“It’s been so long since the last time we went together to that event! How long has it been again?”

Nightmare pretended to think before giving his twin the answer he could have given in a blink.

“6 years, I think.We needed fresh flowers.”

“Ah yes I remember, maybe we should pick up some today as well?”

“...yeah, we should.”

Dream clapped his hands, looking satisfied.

“Then it’s settled! We look around, enjoy the event and pick up some plants -and maybe a book if you find something interesting?- before going home!”

And without waiting for an answer, Dream grabbed his hand and started energetically walking and making comments on how each display of flowers were installed and by who.

Surprisingly, he found himself infected by the other’s joy and quickly started truly appreciating the evening. Some people watched him curiously and some others were sending some rather nasty glares but he ignored all that and focused on his brother’s unending chatting.

They picked up some flowers and put them down their pockets, uncaring of if they’d survive the trip. A flower didn’t stop being pretty just for some bruises and missed bits after all. And both of them were now wearing flowers breaded firmly into their crowns, almost fully masking the glistening metal. Coreopsis, poppies and some treasure flowers for Dream. Delphiniums, lilies-of-the-Nile and some drooping verbenas for him.

The day was sunny and rays bounced across the windows, producing rainbows in water puddles.

The people were merry and colorful dresses and shirts were twirling around in every corner.

It was loud.

It was bonded.

It was so many things he usually avoided.

But somehow…

It was nice.

He could see a table set just down the street with books laying on. From here, he thought he could recognize a cover or two. That red one with the white handle casting a shadow of a knife’s blade, for example, was the cover of a story that was hard to forget…

“Dream, I want to make a stop at the book table just there!”

Dream didn’t answer and soon, he realized he wasn’t holding his hand anymore.

“He can’t be far, he was blabbering about some pie smell just a moment ago…”, he muttered as a self-reassurance.

When had he let go? Or was Dream the one who let go?

The streets suddenly seemed less welcoming. 

It was loud.

It was bonded.

It was so many things he usually avoided.

After getting bumped into a few times (and getting insulted for it), Nightmare scooted against a wall and fiddled with his fingers, keeping an eye on the crowd moving around.

He just needed to find Dream and they could leave that place and all would be well! There wasn’t any need for stress here.

Everything was swell.

His hands were pulling on any bit of fabric he could grab onto and he really hoped it wouldn’t tear from the abuse later.

Where are you?

People are staring.

People are judging.

They’re staring. They’re staring. They’re staring.

Calm down, Night’. Deep breaths. Happy thoughts.

His legs were shaking and he couldn’t afford being seen panicking so far from his haven.

They’re staring.

That guy is staring. The children are staring and giggling at his misfortune. That mother is mocking him.

Even that dog is against him.

He needed…out!

But Dream?

Why did he leave him here alone?

Why did he drag him there at all?

Did he…?

A glint of golden metal caught his attention and he dashed in that direction.

Dream!

Unfortunately, he lost the trace fast but he kept running through a few streets just in case.

He just couldn’t bear everything so he sped off into smaller and emptier streets until he was finally alone.

Then, he crashed in this tiny dingy one-way street that smelled of anything but flowers and wept on his knees for a while.

Why must he be like that? Five seconds alone in the street and he started acting worse than a toddler. No wonder he was hated around here… He must have been such an easy target that any aspiring violence couldn’t help but look his way and see a snack.

His pants were damp from his tears before he calmed down enough to close the watergates.

The guardian raised his head to look around.

It was a fairly narrow space but some could still stand up without being squished together.

Beside the walls, he could see the sky and even the top of their tree, merely a green stain dotted with warm gold and purplish black against the blue of the day.

So small.

Nightmare sighed and vowed to only rest a bit more before heading back home.

That corner was void of flowers and he relaxed in their absence. 

Wind was making dance two lonely leaves that swirled and twirled before being stopped by a wall then the ballet stopped until a new burst guided them to a new barrier and this, again and again.

Far away he could still hear some laughter and music but he ignored the background noise.

He ignored the distant steps, running and dancing, enjoying the celebration.

He ignored all those sounds to focus on the leaves, on the crown’s weight on his head, on the warm feeling traveling through his vessel of a body and some forgotten tune, he couldn’t name but felt soothing, flowed out of him.

He shouldn’t have, probably.

He shouldn’t have blocked out the rest.

Maybe if he hadn’t…

He could have slipped away in time.

Before the steps were not so distant.

Before the voices were right in front of him.

Before he was trapped with these three.

But he did, so when two monsters and a human showed up, he was taken by surprise.

After that?

There wasn’t much of a conversation. It had been a very one-sided ordeal.

They pushed him, making his thoughts rattle each time his back hit bricks.

Stay calm, they’ll get bored soon.

The purple hare tugged on his sleeves until they ripped.

He already went through this dance and song enough to know how to act to minimize dommages.

The plant bear clapped and hummed, not participating but enjoying it nonetheless.

Do not retaliate, it would only aggravate the situation.

“Ah that’s boring, let’s up the game a bit!”

He had been too boring, that wasn’t going to end well.

The last lanky teenager looked at him for a second before leaping towards his head.

“Give me that circlet thing! That’s too fancy for you!”

A scalding warmth spread through his bones at these words. And he dodged and let the guy crash against the bricks at his turn. 

That was where he drew the limit.

Nightmare winced at the harsh sound of flesh hitting solid and crouched down in an action ready. 

He wasn’t going to allow those to even dare touch his crown.

Soon, joyful expressions turned sour and he was attacked once again.

Some vigorous kicks made one tumble while another retreated.

One was on the ground, grumbling about stained clothes.

One was looking at him, calculating.

And the last…?

Strong arms caught him under the armpits and he was left wiggling in the air, captive by the superior strength of the bear monster who was towering over him by their sheer size.

 Ah. He had lost fast.

He squeezed his eyes shut in anticipation as his aggressors came closer.

Then…

Nothing.

Silence.

A tremor runned through his holder and he wondered…

What could have made them hesitate all of the sudden?

End of chapter 16! Go to chapter 17?

@dragon-tamer-1 @shinechermont

Geno!Sans belongs to @/loverofpiggies Nightmare, Dream and dreamtale belong to @/jokublog