#maybe I'll finish it one day

[thebibliosphere]

I don't know if I'll ever finish it, but occasionally, I am reminded that I started writing crackfic based on a dream I had after playing too much Garden Life and also reading too many Nightwing comics, and I'll open up the document and laugh myself sick at how awful a time Slade Wilson is having in my haunted flower shop AU.

He's been ripped body and soul out of his genre and into a cozy Hallmark movie with undercurrents of cosmic horror, and there's nothing he can do about it. Worst of all, the human he kidnapped is unkillable. At least by him.

---

Slade took a menacing step forward, then stopped dead in his tracks, unable to move another inch. "The fuck."

He looked down at his boots, struggling to uproot them from the dirt-strewn floor. When that failed, he gave up and took a desperate swing across the shop counter. The little witch didn't even flinch. She didn't need to. The same invisible force wrapped around his arm, holding it in place as he strained his outstretched hand toward her neck.

"What the fuck did you do?" he demanded, arm shaking as sweat began to bead down his brow.

"Me?" she asked, far too innocently, like butter wouldn't melt in that smug, annoying mouth. "Bless your heart, dearie, that's not me. That's the plot armor."

"Plot what?"

"Armor," she repeated slowly for him. "I know you're familiar with the word. I've seen that discounted Spirit Halloween ensemble you call a costume."

Slade snarled, renewing his efforts to crush her windpipe. "I know the word. What does it mean?"

"It means I'm protected. The story can't advance without me, so you're stuck with me." She smiled sweetly. "Lucky you."

"Story? What story? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"This one," she said, gesturing around them as though that explained anything. "The one we're in. The one you pulled me into. The one I can't leave until you figure out whatever the fuck you're supposed to be doing. So if you could hurry up and do that, that'd be great. I've got shit to do, and it doesn't involve holding your hand through whatever bullshit character arc crisis you're going through."

"Lady," Slade breathed out through gritted teeth, "you are fucking insane."

"Oh, sweety," she drawled, leaning across the counter and causing his arm to draw back of its own volition, not allowing him to get a hold of her throat, as she patted him condescendingly on the cheek. Clearly, whatever bullshit proximity magic she was pulling didn't apply to her ability to touch him. "You don't know the half of it."

[webbytbh]

This was a sketch I'm not sure if I should continue to work on

[theeclipseofcat]

i don't know if you are still active on tumblr, but i want you to know i cannot stop watching your 00q videos "don't miss me?" and "runaway baby". i especially love that moment of the latter, after "i love you so," where bond smirks with a "that's what you'll say" and q turns away with an "omfg". you are so ridiculously talented, thank you for making those amazing videos and sharing them with the world!

Ahh this just made my week omg you're too kind 😭 Thank you so much, I am so glad you enjoy them both!!!

And ok so since you're so nice... I have this unfinished OOQ edit I started right before nttd came out, it's about the idea of Bond taking Q with him at the end of Spectre soo here have a slice of that as my thanks!

[thatmintleaf]

Sometimes I feel like rambling about 2pRupru and 2pPrussia in particular but I feel too self-conscious about them sigh

I always saw 2ps as not just the opposite of 1ps but like a different facet of the nation itself, making it even more difficult to talk about them as it's not the most wide spread idea

Sometimes I feel like I've been disconnected from the fandom for too long to just come back to it as nothing happened

[wolfwhisperertf]

ya ever just find an old fanfic you wrote but never published so you read it and all of the sudden your crying? feels a little surreal getting emotional about something I wrote

[boogara-bassguitara]

Here's a WIP from last year, since it's the anniversary

[memoriesinmashups]

maybe one day i'll find you.

among the dull, unpainted walls of the concrete jungle,

in the rustling leaves and the sticky humid air,

weaved by the whispers of those around you,

carried by the fleeting glances and falling dreams

that's not to say i won't try to find you

but my body couldn't sleep from the phantom laughter and crinkling smiles of my thoughts

i'd say i've given up on hoping to see you

a future i'm not sure if you'll be on the sidewalk on my road

but if my life is a self-fulfilling prophecy,

then one day, i know I'll finally look into your eyes

with a murmur silencing my thoughts,

and an eased smile dancing on my lips,

"..hi."

i'll be the warmth that you never know you needed, neither short-lived nor burning you

i'll be the tears brimming your eyelashes whenever you're safe, neither the phantom smiles nor the pain of loneliness

i'll be the temper that grounds you when you need it, neither suffocating nor fearing

despite my flaws, i'll be the best i can be

for both you and me.

[instant-bull]

staying mediocre. you know how they nail down stop motion puppets so they don't move

[alostkittenontheinternet]

Stupid animation doodles of a recording that I did for Ai the somnium files

It was so much fun to make ! I cringe a little now that I look at it but some panels made me laugh a lot when I finished those

I hate this old man you have no idea

[reineydraws]

mihawk training with his step-kids! ft. smitten husband shanks

[iliterallyjustlivehere]

here is a little something i wrote a few months ago when i nearly quit theatre! complete projection onto Nick, per usual. 

the google doc i wrote this in is titled “nick is sad again.” it’s 1000 words of angst. please enjoy. <3

Nick Nelson hated rugby. He hated how physical it was, hated being touched and tackled. He hated the anxiety before a game and the sense of loss afterwards. But most of all he hated that he didn’t love it anymore. Rugby had once brought him so much joy. He had been team captain at his school and nothing had brought him so much joy. Other than Charlie, of course. He loved leading the team. He loved the unity of it. He loved that, even though they weren’t the greatest players in the world, they still had fun. He hated that he couldn’t handle it anymore. 

Going to Uni to play rugby sounded like the perfect option. He was definitely talented enough, and he loved it so much. He didn’t just love the act of playing, but also the mechanics and what makes a team or a player great. He wanted to be a coach for some kids' rugby team. He knew he didn’t need to go to college just to be a coach, but he wanted to. That’s what he hated the most. He hated that he hated it. 

It had been a long day. His new team just didn’t mesh well. They were all decent humans and phenomenal players, but their personalities clashed and their coach was not good at bringing them together. Try as he might, Nick couldn’t pull the team together. In a way, he had become captain. He wasn't an official captain, the real captain was quiet, reserved. He reminded Nick of Charlie, kinda. The Real Captain was the greatest player on the team, by far, but when it came to anything outside of Rugby? He was lost. So Nick had taken that part. He did pep talks, he gave quiet pointers, bought doughnuts on game days. The other guys joked about him being their “mascot,” or called him the “mom friend.” Nick didn’t know what to feel about these names. 

The drive to practice was awful as well. Nick was often convinced that his own driving was making him carsick, when it was just his anxiety. He knew this and yet still had to pull into parking lots during the drive to get his breathing under control. The intense nausea and dizziness kept him home some days, but he knew he couldn’t hide forever. He’d stopped eating  beforehand, which probably made things worse. He reasoned the skipping meals with the fact that he felt ill. No one wants to eat when they’re nauseous, even if it’s just from anxiety. 

The ride home was very different. The complete stimulation switch majorly fucked with his head. Going from an adrenaline fueled panic attack to the silent drive home was the worst. He would listen to music, but it hurt his head. He didn’t feel ill anymore, the issue was he didn’t feel anything at all. Dissociating became a common occurrence after heightened emotions. He just felt so physically and mentally sick. He knew it was hurting him. But he had to accept that this was the way things are. This was his own fault. He had chosen this, he had to deal with the consequences of his actions.

Arriving home was good. Opening the door to see Charlie’s face and feel his presence was the best part of everyday. If he could, Nick would bring Charlie with him everywhere. He was sure Charlie would go with him anywhere, but it just wasn’t feasible. It just wouldn’t work out. He was ashamed of how much he needed Charlie. Nick was so used to being the one that people needed, he didn’t realize he also needed people. People plural. Humans are pack animals, they need multiple people. They can’t find everything from just one person. But Nick secretly hated everyone but Charlie. Maybe not hate, perhaps just… distrust? Dislike? Nick didn’t know, but he couldn’t handle anyone else. He didn’t feel safe anywhere except for in Charlie’s presence.

Some days they would both ditch all their responsibilities and just sit in bed all day. Often these were Charlie’s bad days, so he would be staying in bed anyways. Nick insisted on staying home and taking care of Charlie, even though he could handle himself. He hated himself for this, but he loved those days. He loved having an excuse not to go to class or work. He loved caring for Charlie. Sometimes Charlie would cry, and Nick would rock him back and forth and tell him everything was okay, he was safe, they were safe. It was just as reassuring for him as it was for Charlie. 

Feeling needed by Charlie was an addiction. Feeling needed by anyone really. That was part of the reason he was still in Rugby. They needed him. Mom friend Nick Nelson. The one who provides snacks and makes sure everyone is hydrated. He realizes the irony here, since he had spent years providing snacks and drinks for Charlie. The difference was he loved caring for Charlie. It was everyone else, everything else that angered him. But he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t let them down, they had come to expect him to be a certain way, so he had to put on the same mask every fucking day so as not to ruin anyone’s impression of him. 

What Nick hadn’t realized is as follows: Rugby wasn’t the issue. It was just something to blame. It was only a vessel for all the bad feelings. A reason for him to hate himself. Nick often gets so submerged in the mist that he forgets things. He forgets that he is human and therefore makes mistakes. He forgets that he needs to breathe too. The blinders over his eyes have been in place for so long he has forgotten anything else exists. 

Charlie knew something was up. You don’t sew your soul to someone and not know most everything about them. Charlie knew Nick couldn’t sleep with socks on, that he only reads books with happy endings, and he always, without fail, kisses the back of his hand when they’re both in bed and Nick thinks he is asleep. But Charlie also knows it’s best to let Nick open up on his own. In the past he had begged Nick to tell him what was wrong, but Nick would shut down. Charlie trusted that Nick wasn’t actively trying to hide anything. He was just hurting and not ready to talk about it. So, even though it pained him to see the paleness of Nick’s face and feel his cold hands, he kept quiet. He loved Nick quietly, so as not to overwhelm him. Every day that passed, Charlie’s heart hurt a bit more. His best friend, his love, his person was hurting. He realized this was probably how Nick felt whenever Charlie was struggling. 

Nick was at his breaking point. He couldn’t do this anymore. Couldn’t continue like this, just feeding the cycle of never ending pain. He had had enough. Arriving at home, Nick parked the car and just sat there for a moment. A long moment. Time was passing. The sun was setting. Still Nick sat. Charlie peeked through the window for the fourth time. It was time for Charlie to step in. 

[nouverx]

The Light Bringer 💫

[2xlee]

Why did I never post my winx stuff here???

[bunnysnared]

uhmm here are some unmasked boyfriendly ghost sketches +bonus headcanons i have 🫶🏻💌

[pls dont reupload bcos i didnt watermark them but i wanted to share;;] +ALT TEXT on my headcanon sheet in case u can't read my handwriting ♡

[lynaferns]

Due to popular demand

of one person, I bring you the abandoned wip of Sun on a tiny bicycle.

Enjoy.

Animated in Autodesk Sketchbook, Flipbook, 24fps (doesn't seem like it I know), idk how many frames is this and I'm too lazy to look it up but seems like 12-13 drawn frames(?)

[2cypress]

the cave that forgot time

(also happy anniversary earthbound!!)