#if I do I'll add it

[thebestworstidea]

I don't have any proper illustrations for Out Of the Night that Covers Me by @inexplicifics but it still is one of my favorites.

Page of sketches working things out, Lambert, Aiden, rough height chart, and comparisons

page of small illustrations for the begining of the fic

the Wolfe Boys (and Voltehre)

Lambert weeding to Aiden reading to him (with sketch of Aiden's brothers in the lower right)

[verflares]

(click for higher quality!) draconified link concept ive been chipping away at this past week ..... here's my funny little compendium concept for him:

"A heroic spirit has taken the form of this bestial dragon. Unlike it's kin, this creature exhibits an extremely aggressive disposition. It appears highly territorial, and will relentlessly chase down those who disturb its skywide patrols - of which it seems to be endlessly searching for either a long-time vassal or foe. Unfortunately, it seems the spirit within has long since forgotten exactly who it was looking for…"

[sneaky-eel]

Some helpful advice from your friendly neighbor assassins.

[vault81]

I've finished my Fallout OC Character Sheet! this is my first time making something like this, but I like how it turned out!

PSD below cut!

Compressed Version!

[shartfinz]

let me help you

[ruubesz-draws]

Zeuszilla? Zuezilla? Zeusilla???? Idk but it's trending on Twitter rn

Anyway, my contribution haha I'll just put this here and disappear!

[sleepnoises]

I've started quilting my quilt and I thought it would be fun to approximately quilt in the shape of major roads (thanks yarrow for suggesting this in april) but now I want to quilt it more densely and feel locked into the road thing as 1) it is a sin to lie 2) as i am learning, Boston has an infinite number of roads

I will actually probably do leafs or vines or so on but wanted to share my road conundrum

Additional planning materials:

[thunderpot]

A peculiar bookseller arrives in town, full of stories and mysteries to share.

This time, he tells the tale of a bird who took the place of another, yet seemingly no one could tell the difference…

[illustratedartist]

Ask Me About My Mask 🎃🐦‍⬛💉

First request for my 400+ follower event is done!!

I KINDA went my own direction with this, I saw this funny image with wolf shirt verison of this and it reminded me of Scarecrow from Asylum lol. So naturally I decided this has to be how I draw AA Crane from now on XD

Thank you @jennoirwolf for the request and supporting me! When I was in my Crash Bandicoot phase she was one of my absolute favorite artists! I remember going through all her comics and doodles on her DA and being so inspired. SO it honestly blows my mind that she likes my stuff 🥰 definitely go check her out!!

[maddymoreau]

Finding Frankie Ending Discussion

I've seen a lot of people discussing the ending and some confused so I thought I'd share my thoughts!

Why does the Real Frankie say: "Stop ruining my fucking gameshow!"

When you meet the Real Frankie in that room there’s a white board showing his plans. Which are to help keep the player alive until the final round in order to boost views. By not dying during the climatic moment you’re ruining his show.

How does the contestant survive?

Although it's not shown how the contestant survives. It's important to consider this scene is shown from the audience's perspective. Everyone watching assumed the contestant died so the broadcast ends. Which is why the credits begin to play.

We can also see this through the Real Frankie when afterwards he's watching the credits on his monitors. Along with how he's surprised when the contestant appears.

Why does the Real Frankie recruit the contestant?

When the contestant reveals they're alive this is a golden opportunity.

The broadcast is over (shown also by the TVs being turned off). It's just the contestant and the Real Frankie. Since you won, as promised, he gives you the five million dollars.

Although the Real Frankie helped the contestant survive they're the first out of hundreds to make it this far.

Real Frankie: "You're the first contestant we've ever had who won. Hundreds of people last a few seconds, a few last a couple of minutes, but you . . . you're different. I like that."

So he uses this as an opportunity to try and recruit the contestant for another round. Since contestants are disguised if they do another round the audience won’t know it’s them.

What is the contestant's motivation?

While not explained we're given clues throughout the game. Let's start with what the Real Frankie says about the contestant.

Real Frankie: “But let's be honest with ourselves for a second, contestant. We need each other. Especially you, I mean, look where you live . . ."

We're shown the contestant's apartment which is in rough condition. Along with the detail that the constant has watched prior shows:

It's important to note that the broadcast is privately funded. Most likely through people paying to access the stream and gambling thousands of dollars on it.

ANONYMOUS: "I HAVE 10,000 ON THIS GUY LET'S GO!"

For someone living in those conditions we know the contestant took a HUGE gamble for the opportunity to get on the show.

Considering they spent $3.99 X 769 boxes = $3,068.31

My theory is that the contestant's financial situation may not be the best due to gambling (or other life circumstances) so they chose to stay another round.

Real Frankie: ". . . And you've helped us. Having a privately streamed and funded show isn't the easiest thing in the world, and then, on the verge of bankruptcy, you came along. Our star, but stars don't just leave after a season, do they?"

[voracusrdr]

Say Hi Magical Misfits!

[beetlebabber]

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice (2024): Phone Popups Clip

So I uuhhh seen a post about this scene (will reblog) that looked like it could use some HD footage for, uhm, RESEARCH.

HERE'S THE GIFs OF IT AS WELL:

AND A COUPLE SCREENIES TOO WHY NOT:

乁( ◔ ౪◔)ㄏ Happy Beetlebabbing <3

[royalarchivist]

Tubbo: What was wrong with the timing?!

Pac: You did it in the worst possible timing! Everything was–

Bagi: I think we ruined the kiss.

Everyone:

Pac: It– it wasn't the kiss, more– you know? It was– *mumbles*

Tubbo: IT WAS MORE?! IT WAS MORE?! ON THE FIRST DATE?!

Bagi: WE DON'T NEED THE DETAILS!

Fit: That's not what he meant!

[seiwas]

grow on me like a dog loved fondly: prologue | kamo choso

wc: 1.0k

summary: your regular to the flower shop is more than what he seems. 

contains: written with f!reader in mind but can be read as gn!, animal shelter employee choso x flower shop owner reader, implied that reader is shorter than choso, flowers, small talk.

a/n: the promised choso drabble! depending on how this is received, i intend for this to be the prologue to a longer choso fic i have in mind!

You have a regular on the weekends. 

Business in the flower shop tends to be slow during winter, with less occasions having the need for flowers and even less buds blooming during the season. 

But even with the expected decline in customers, Saturdays always guarantee one—

The bells attached to the store doors jingle, allowing in a gust of cool air that tickles your cheeks from where you’re crouched down. The peonies in your hands were delivered just yesterday, the ends of the stems needing a slight trim to keep them fresh for longer. 

You turn, standing up to face your visitor. A purple scarf is wrapped high around his neck, with white fleece running down the length of his arms—a sort of undershirt to the short-sleeved uniform worn atop it. The outfit is familiar enough, but what truly distinguishes him are the two spiky pigtails on the sides of his head. 

There are a few things you’ve managed to pick up from four-line exchanges with your regular (six if you’re lucky): 1) he works at the animal shelter a few streets away, 2) the flowers he buys are for the front desk, a weekly replacement he deems necessary to keep the place looking alive, and 3) who he is, his name—

—‘Choso’, if the tag on his uniform says anything. 

The tag that is now, also, just a hand’s reach away from you. 

You look up, pocketing your plant nippers. The peonies dangle between your fingers. 

“W-welcome!” you stutter, focusing on the thin metal chain running across his nose. 

It’s new, an addition that intrigues you more about the man in front of you. 

The look he gives you is lazy, gaze deadpan, almost empty. Anyone else might find it snobbish and off-putting, but you’ve gotten used to it—an almost magenta puffiness that surrounds his eyes, bags of fatigue that usually hang underneath. 

He continues to stare, unmoving. 

Considering all your previous interactions, you’ve realized, he isn’t scary or rude or anything of that sort—he’s just awkward. 

A bit quiet and unbothered, maybe, but still just awkward. You don’t think he’s ever started an interaction with you first. 

“Is there any flower in particular that you’re looking for?” you ask, motioning around your store. 

The selection is limited this season—a few camellias and clusters of Japanese primrose with an abundance of peonies and daffodils. 

His head turns as he glances around the store, pigtails bobbing slightly with each movement. When he faces you again, he shrugs, voice deep and firm as he asks, “Do you have any recommendations?” 

It’s an odd feeling, borderline awkward and nervous; you have no idea why your mind is blanking. 

“Um,” you clear your throat, tucking the peonies between your fingers into your apron pocket, “daffodils are bright and friendly, good for entryways and front desks, I think.” 

He eyes the daffodils to your right, buckets of stems holding yellow and white. The store stays quiet for what feels like a good minute before he nods, agreeing to your suggestion. 

“The usual?” two clusters, wrapped in newspaper. 

Your question echoes throughout the shop, lingering while you pick at which daffodils look best. 

“Yes, but two of them.” he answers in monotone, before adding on, a soft hesitancy, “Please.” 

You smile to yourself, picking more daffodils for another bunch. 

Both of you make your way to the cashier, another bout of silence surrounding you as you crumple newspaper and pull at tape. He always watches, you notice, his focus set on your practiced handling of stems and leaves. 

You look up momentarily, seeing that he keeps his head down, “The pigtails are cool.” 

He doesn’t say anything, and for a while you’re afraid you might have offended him, but he responds, voice low; it’s soft, gentle in a way you never expected it to be. 

“Thank you.” you catch him shifting his weight from your periphery, hands digging deeper into his pockets, “The dogs think they’re chew toys when I wear it this way.” 

You most certainly were not expecting that, either. 

This is the most initiative he’s taken to add onto the conversation.

You grin, chuckling under your breath, “That must be fun.” 

It’s faint, but you think you hear him laugh a little. 

When the flowers are completely wrapped, you set them aside, making your way behind the cash register. You punch in the cost, ready to bill him before he speaks again. 

“Actually, would you happen to do deliveries?” he seems shy asking it, barely looking you in the eye. 

“Yes!” You nod, grabbing a pen and paper to hand over to him, “Just write down your contact details, the address you want it delivered to, and when you’d like it to be delivered.” 

Another thing you’ve realized, is that despite appearances and what he seems to be, Choso handles objects gently; the pen and paper you’d just given him were taken lightly from your fingertips. Even the strokes of his penmanship are slow, the tip of the pen barely creating an indent on the small sheet. 

“Will you be having both of these delivered?” you ask, holding up the bundles of daffodils. 

“Just one.” he answers promptly, before adding on again, “Thank you.” 

And you know you shouldn’t ask, shouldn’t be so nosy, but—

“What’s the occasion?”—

Flowers are rarely in demand during the winter season. 

—“If you don’t mind me asking,” you follow-up quickly. 

The immediate quiet makes you think you might have gotten too comfortable again, made him feel weird about your questions—but he answers.

“My brothers,” he finishes the final curves of his writing, “they’re coming to visit.” 

The piece of paper is handed to you, and you hum, acknowledging his response. You go over his details, reciting it to him to double-check. But when you land on his address, your eyes go wide, a little ‘oh!’ slipping out. 

He furrows his brows, confused. 

You definitely, most certainly did not expect this. 

“Sorry,” you shake your head, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment, “Just—“ you chuckle, “I think we might be neighbors.” 

thank you notes: @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat for sending me lil prompts that somehow birthed into this!! + @yemmuishomeforthementallyunwell for feeding the choso brainrot 🥹 + @mysugu @soumies for being my angels, lights of my life!! listening to me ramble abt this and helping me pick music, hash out plot, pick title, everything! ily

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[thatonequeeraunt]

An alignment of shows with queer themes (imo)

[cuntylestat]

i saw the tags on this post i made and i find this super interesting because i don't think the problem was actually that he just doesn't have enough light - it's a hindrance for street photography, sure, but a tripod and a shutter cable could solve that and you can take creative approaches to street photography to outweigh the lack of light. you can also shoot in well lit interiors, you can use faster lenses, faster film, etc. you could even pivot to a different type of photography. of course, as technology advances, this would become less of a problem and light is important in photography, but that's solvable. people have made and continue to make great photography in the dark. the pictures that turn out to not be taken by louis are mostly taken at night or inside.

partly, it's down to louis. as dreamstat says, louis is impatient and doesn't take the proper care, e.g. by cleaning his lens, framing his shot with care, taking enough film, or sticking around to try out different compositions in different conditions.

but this is something that he could train himself to do. the real problem (as the dealer points out) is that the compositions do not say much. louis doesn't have "the eye." the photograph they discuss is not good because it was shot in daylight, it's because it tells a story, there is depth to the image, the subjects are framed in a way that it lets you interpret the meaning. it's human.

however, it also goes deeper than that. louis cannot connect with humans to properly picture them or tell their stories because he's a vampire, and therefore there is no relationship that goes beyond predator and prey anymore. he is separated from humanity at this point, even if he doesn't want to realize it. he cannot (and does not) want to stick around to get to know humans, make a connection with them. he finds the idea of doing that preposterous and impossible - they're sustenance and not interesting enough for him to actually invest time and interest in them. i think he likes to think that he is interested in humanity, and that's why he tries to capture them on film, but really, the gap between him and them is too big at this point.

and then there's this excellent point that @feedingicetothedog made in this post. vampires are mimics but they cannot create. louis can recognize the story when it's in front of him in form of a picture, but he cannot recreate it in his own photography because he's no longer human.

so i don't think that, no matter the technology, louis will ever be the type of photographer he wants to be, the one that captures people and human life, its essence and its complexities and its emotions. he's not capable of that anymore because he's a vampire.