#so i promise i'll come back to it

[the1trueanon]

finally posting these alfjsdfklsadjfdfk took me ages ik i'm sorryyyyyyy TwT but yeah, slime rancher au designs hehehe ^^ wanted to make them look more cartoonish to match with the overall design of the Slime Rancher game 👉👈 let me know what you guys think!

story link: The Planet Brought Us to Life (please tap for better quality hhhhh)

Close ups of each under cut

[artilite]

throwing various pinterest outfits on these guys!

[ramcue]

i participated in the cookie run wlw week event that's going on on twitter :)

day 2 : rainy day / shining glitter & black lemonade

(technically day 1 cuz this is the first prompt i'm doing :3)

[necrotic-nephilim]

as an apology for being gone for a month, have a uquiz i spent a week making! pls feel free to reblog with which character you got, i worked way too hard on this silly little thing. there are eight different characters you can get that are varying levels of unknown, with comic recommendations for each character <3

[hamofjustice]

nemona feels like an obscure blorbo instead of the main rival character from the latest pokemon game because to get to her really good content from people who really get it, you first have to wade through the ocean of yandere pervert obsessive stalker annoying punchable bimbo amazon goddess interpretations of...

... a neurodivergent and possibly disabled high schooler who's desperately trying to make any friends or get any support from her rich neglectful family - while everyone in her school is jealous of their own imagined version of a privileged asshole version of her they made up - who deeply and platonically loves and supports the one new kid who agreed to take the time to get to know and respect her and her special interest without having to hold back her true self

unlike her, it's not great!

kinda feels like she has the same problem in our world that she does in hers.

[blusandbirds]

eli moskowitz - "am i making you feel sick?"

[sparxyv]

I want you to know that I have scrolled through your page after coming back to HL brainrot, and I have deviously fallen in love with Mousey. Like seeing your artwork of him makes me so giddy to the point I swing my legs and twirl my hair. 😭🫶 I love your art and page sm, the only thing that I look forward to.

THIS HAS ME SO UNBELIEVABLY HAPPY.. 💋💋 LOVE U ANON THIS WAS SENT WEEKS AGO BUT IT MADE MY MONTH!!!

it makes me so ecstatic that people love my art AND my characters?? i swear it makes me feel like i'm living 13 year old lukas' dream 💜

ANYWAYS.. i see that the people like mousey 🙏 and mousey LOVES the people.

if mousey was able read these messages, he would be beyond happy.

mousey LOVES being loved, being popular, all of that.

that being said.. it would 100% go to his head.

he can't shove it in sebastian's face though 😔💔

[lunarharp]

witch sketchbook

[oneluckydragon]

✨🌸 Sunshine on your skin, flowers in my soul 🌸✨

🌊🫧Summary → In the midst of his reconciliation with Team Wish, Dusknoir begins coughing up flowers. This unfortunate brand of bad luck should be a cosmic joke. A spiteful punishment that the world has brought down on him out of malice, out of vengeance for his past deeds. A cruel, agonizing curse manifested with the single unjustified purpose of preventing him from realizing happiness, ever seeking redemption, ever righting his multitudes of wrongs and moving on with his life. But that's not true, and he knows it deep down. Knows it in the very core of his soul like the flood of petals building in this throat.

This is his fault because he is a coward, and that's all he has ever been. A backstabbing, lonely coward.

And now he is going to die because of it.

[AO3]

[CH. I -- Word Count -- 13,290]

🌒💫 Return → the act of going back to a place, person, or memory

[CH. II -- TBA]

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

for me, nothing hits quite like someone who's sick but like...still in a good mood? like either ignoring it or admitting they're not well but still pleasant to be around. like they sneeze and someone asks if they're ok and they just roll their eyes and say "yeah i just have a stupid fuckin cold" 🫠😳👁️👄👁️🤩

[vaguely-concerned]

just realized all over again that harding and rye never got to talk about varric. when he got out of fade jail she was gone. she's never coming back. they never got to talk about it. they will never get to talk about it. they spent all that time together, they became so close, and still they never got to meet in a world where they could both talk about it and now they never will because she's gone too. she'll never know he felt it just as deeply as she did, that she wasn't alone in it. millions dead thousands wounded in my heart and brain right now it's just a bloodbath in here

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

I've been unable to work on my longer WIPs for some reason but take this. for lack of a better title:

idiots locked in the world's most romantically charged staring contest

Heist Mark x Y/N (reader) | 628 words

You wait just around the corner, quiet and out of sight, and lightly smack Mark's arm with the back of your hand when he tries to peer around you, lest someone see and you have both your covers blown.

Your partner rolls his eyes exaggeratedly and you level him with a stare.

You understand the anticipation, but patience is crucial for jobs like this. You wait for the signal. One wrong move could cost you a lot more than just your loot.

The little nook of the building you're waiting in is, rather conveniently for means of slinking around unnoticed, out of the way, and quite narrow. Even with Mark leaning back against the opposite wall, you are mere inches apart.

He checks his watch. 'Should be any minute now,' he utters in a hushed voice.

You nod. Several seconds pass. Distant chatter echoes down the halls, muffled into a steady background ambience of rich party attendees blissfully unaware of the thieves in their midst.

You look at your partner, simply because you have nothing else to do. He's craning his neck again in a futile attempt to peek around the corner more subtly.

His suit for the night is crisp, and gives his silhouette a sharper outline than the more typical cosy sweaters and soft flannel shirts. His hair looks especially dark cast in shadow, but there's enough light from outside the enclosed space that you see it reflected in his eyes. Softly glowing white and orange and magenta specs, floating on deep brown. Pretty.

It's as he turns his head back to face you, that he notices you staring, and meets your gaze without missing a beat.

Mark smiles, faintly roguish, but gentle and just for you.

He holds your stare, and something to the way he does so makes you wonder if he sees the same lights sparkling in your own eyes, and if he finds the sight as oddly captivating as you do.

A minute passes.

Mark loosens his tie.

It's a simple, small thing, but it stirs something inside of you, and you don't know why, but your breath hitches a little and your eyes widen slightly and he definitely notices. But he doesn't say anything and neither do you. All he does is keep looking intensely into your eyes until he doesn't because his gaze is flickering elsewhere — trailing across your features, settling on your mouth for longer than can be dismissed and when you bite your lip subconsciously it's as if he's mesmerised. You can hardly recall where you are or what you're doing here, none of it matters as much as his head tilting ever so slightly and then—

A voice through your earpiece jolts you out of your stupor. You suddenly take stock of the warmth from Mark's breath on your face. Your noses almost bumping. When did he get so close?

You press a button on your earpiece to answer the call, and by the look on your partner's face, he hears it too. It's Wubba and Bubba, giving the signal as agreed, and the moment is gone and your friend clears his throat and straightens up, as a confusing mixture of disappointment and frustration and lingering excitement flutter and twist in your gut.

When he moves out of your immediate space, the inches feel like miles.

You push the feelings down. You have work to do.

Mark mumbles something over the voice channel before turning back to you once again.

'You ready, buddy?'

The corner of your mouth quirks up, matching his own eager grin.

'You know I am.'

His grin widens.

'Good,' he says, adjusting his sleeve and finally getting a better look around the corner, now that the coast is decidedly clear. 'Alright, partner. Showtime.'

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

So I have decided that if a clone rebellion series isn't announced or at least hinted at during the next Star Wars Celebration, I'm going to write the story myself.

[dollya-robinprotector]

Wobin and Lya in Clamp CCS manga style

Pose and heavy ref from this Clamp Syaoran Sakura art

[yujeong]

Time was at a standstill. Vegas was holding his breath without noticing, and continued to hold it when he did - he was afraid of what would happen if he exhaled loudly enough to draw attention to himself. His gaze was shifting between Pete and the man who was standing before them in the doorway, blocking their entrance. Vegas had never seen him before, but even so, he recognized Pete in him enough to know who he was. A dangerous aura surrounded him. There was an edge to his presence that Vegas would only come across people of certain circles. He was a fighter. A muay khao. Pete's father. Shame coursed through Vegas' body, smearing his skin, settling in his lungs, rendering him speechless. I thought he was dead, he wanted to tell Pete if he could. He wanted to scream at him, I thought you killed him. Pete was the one who broke the stillness. As if awakened by something, he took a half-step back and made a motion with his arms, almost raising them to his chest, but not quite. In an instant, Pete reverted into the pet Vegas had been keeping at the safehouse, bound by handcuffs and afraid of his belt hitting flesh and drawing blood. A lump formed in Vegas' throat. "Have you stopped practicing? Your form is off." The uncanny similarities between Pete and his father appearance-wise didn't mean a thing when it came to their voices. Vegas shivered. Was this what Pete would sound like in a few decades? (Were these the condescending words he'd choose to spew? Was Pete going to embody his father? Was Vegas embodying his?) "What are you doing here?" Pete whispered. "They let me out for a few days, so I came here to collect some money. Imagine my surprise when I found out my offspring left the job someone found him worthy enough of doing to... do what exactly? Yaai didn't want to tell me." He crossed his arms, waiting for an answer. Vegas didn't know what he was allowed to say. If he was allowed to say anything at all. "It's none of your business." "I'd say it very much is my business, as well as yaai's business who was dependent on the money you were making being some rich asshole's human shield." A choked sound scratched Vegas' throat. He didn't like getting reminded of Pete being the main family's bodyguard, even though he stopped being one mere months ago. Especially like this. That was the first time Pete's father stopped looking at his son and turned his head to look at Vegas. For a moment, there seemed to be recognition in his eyes. Did he know who Vegas was? Did he care? A snort came out of his mouth. He leaned on the door. "Oh, I see how it is." He laughed, scratched his neck. "I never expected you to whore yourself out for money. Tell me, is it preferable to the path I carved out for you?" Vegas could sense the disgust in his voice. He could also see it on Pete's face. He was too astonished to share it, but not enough to be unable to speak. "Khun, there has been some misunderstanding-" "Don't bother. I can recognize a faggot when I see one." Pete's movements were too fast for Vegas to stop him. A direct jab to the nose; his father fell like a pack of cards, groaning like a wounded animal. Surprisingly, no blood - Pete held back. Vegas didn't know what to think about that. "That was a pathetic attack, even for you." "Get up." "We're not in the ring, son." Pete growled. Vegas could see his hands trembling as he was keeping them in the air, maintaining an offensive stance. "That never stopped you before." "You were too young to understand what I was doing back then. What I was preparing you for." Pete was silent. "The world isn't kind. It'll fuck you over one way or another." He got up, spat on the ground. "You still haven't learned a thing. You're too old to afford being naive." He turned around, and without sparing a look at Pete again, said: "Now get the fuck out of my house." (For @musictooth, whose posts about Pete's father have reignited my passion for this specific concept and for @wretchedamaranth, whose comments on my writing are always lovely and precious ❤️)

[botanikos]

Hey, can I have your attention for just a moment? Yes? FANTASTIC!

Here we go then —

I want to take a moment and just. . . . Shine a light on a few things. And by a few things, I mean you all! Now, I have 1 rule about this post: You Cannot Compliment Me In The Replies. Full stop. This post is about YOU!

That being out of the way, I want to let you all know how much I appreciate each and every one of you! I have made some amazing friends since I started this blog, and it has been an incredible ride so far! Honestly, I never intended to be here but am so glad I am! Coming onto this blog makes my days a little easier, a little brighter, and especially so during the ones that feel a bit darker and harder to get through.

I want you to know something: I think your writing is INCREDIBLE! The amount of passion and depth I see everyone pouring into their muses is staggering! There is so much fun to be had reading your words and interacting with you [ and to those I am mutuals with but have limited to no interactions with yet. . . I am so sorry! Believe it or not, I am an anxious person and am actually admiring you from afar ] ! Not a day goes by where I don't gasp, laugh, or smile at something on my dashboard. The variety, the nuances — and I've met so many kind people!

There are truly no words. The ones above feel so little in comparison to the big feelings I have! I cannot begin to tell you how much I appreciate each and every one of you! Please never lose your spark, remember to have fun, and do your best not to doubt yourselves or the potential you harbor!

And thank you — thank you so much for visiting my little blog and choosing to stay with me through the chaos!

Much love from yours truly, Jude ☆