#suggestions are more than welcome :)

[szynkaaa]

Just a gal and her Stone Monkey

this image pose template from here

HC since SWK cane change his size, the same applies for his Azure Dome form. So he can be as big as a mountain, or the size of a big yaoguai, or normal sized (whatever normal sized is for the Stone Monkey)

Much later on:

Slight NSFW under the cut

[perryelornitorrinco]

Who would win a milk chugging contest?

Okay the single braincell I have sparked and I thought about something.

The whole Chain is too competitive so what if they all battle against eachother to prove the rest who likes milk the most BUT not only by chugging milk but with a milk league >:). So I shared the braincell with Wild and he will be deciding the different challenges to prove the biggest milk enjoyer.

Also I think Wind or Sky wouldn't know what is a cow or that cow milk was a thing (at least Wind probably knows about coconut milk), but neither does Hyrule, living in a cave is tough bruh. Maybe they can try a round as a trio and the best of them goes with one of the pairs, that way a league would work!

Next chapter

SO, FIRST MILK ROUND. A little hint I’ll give you is “corn maze”. Now time to guess: >:·3

Also I'll do like a little comic/drawing for each round of course hehe so please be patient with me if I'm slow 🥺😭

[ratsoh-writes]

Here are some main points I have for the au/history so far.

There were three main races: humans, dragons and the fey

Monsters are descendants of humans and fey, basically a hybrid

The fey ‘die out’ and their history gets lost over time

Main monster religion is worshiping the “mother magic” aka what they remember of the fey

In temple au, monsters and humans lived peacefully together, created a barrier to protect them from a curse

Thinking of making temple au an offshoot of nomadtale with a cursed forest theme, but instead human/monster cooperation

Worship of “mother magic” is common religion with most other AUs as well with some differences between them

Thinking of an eastern style for dress and buildings of temple au

Remember that whole monk/temple-tale idea I had? Well it’s taking so long cause I’m playing with the whole temple thing, what monsters would worship and how that would tie in with the other AUs. It’s gonna deal a lot with fae and the royals

Anyways here’s a sneak peek at the characters:

Sans:

Names: Druid, monk, zen, smoke, ray, fog, breeze, glass, bell, jade, opal, silver, brook, shrine

Magic color will be white/very pale blue

Very calm, serene, graceful personality. Kind, does have cheesy jokes, kinda grandma in interests and technical knowledge, does not understand memes but will laugh anyways to be nice.

Loves hot drinks, nature and birds, chess

Papyrus:

Names: guard, monk, Druid, stone, marble, moss, jade, agate, river, lake, drums, shield, shrine

Magic color will be darker moss green

Pure of heart, kind, gentle, stoic, calm, a bit naive, constantly seems like he’s holding in energy, too nice to realize when people don’t like him, peacemaker

Loves nature, architecture, cooking

The whole idea of the au so far centers around an au where monsters and humans were teamed up against a common enemy, and created the barrier together to protect themselves. The temple dwellers are the ones who spend their lives maintaining the barrier and appeasing the “fey”. It’s supposed to be kinda the beginning of monster history etc..

[corrodedparadox]

Looking to try out some red foil prints and I think I might start with these?

I’ve also been eyeing some iridescent + gold foil and I think these would look cool in foil,,,, so many choices. What the fuck.

[zelliphies-art]

School gala, aged up version ✨

I loved chapter 96 so much 🥰

[elainarcheronslawyer]

Some more things that remind me of Elain:

1) if I say vintage nighties 🤍

2) that filter they had on the last Harry Potter films that made everything dark and grainy but also autumnal? Specifically the odd hope you feel when the filter isn’t there at shell cottage 🐚

3) tasteful hair bows 🎀

4) vintage heart cakes 🧁 (I just think everyone gets one for birthdays and celebrations)

5) continuing the cake theme these butterfly cupcakes I found on Pinterest 🦋

6) heart shaped jam pastries ❤️ ( if anyone has a recipe let me know please)

7) Lover by Taylor Swift 💕

8) not to go full swiftie but that’s exactly what I’m doing, the purple folkmore dress 🪩

9) daisy crowns 🌼

10) a little women Christmas 🎄

[fictionadventurer]

Considering picking an offbeat (for me) creative possibility to try in the new year.

Radio drama script

Poetry chapbook

Invent a board game

Pick up a musical instrument again

Perfect the bread part of spicy cheese bread

Work on learning a foreign language

Build a kite

Shadow puppet animation

Learn a magic trick

Bullet journal

Collage

Flower arranging

[yuji-enjoyer]

Attempting a comic format for the next itafushi tattoo au post, this time actually featuring itafushi for once

[theroseyhues]

Pomme Wallpaper <3

[hoziersmilligan]

the tension between me and every single destiel possession fic in existence

[oceanspirit9]

I'm back? From writing hiatus? I've been going back and forth on whether to finish this piece (what's left for posting it), BUT I felt like maybe it'd be nice. So, here. Have yourself a young Clint Barton 🎯 Thanks @quietlyimplode for always being there for me during the toughest creative blocks 🖤

“Wait up, Barney!”

Clint scrambled back and up on his feet in a flurry of dust, brushing gravel and sand off of his palms with trained nonchalance. His new trousers, the annual Barton hand-me-downs, had unraveled, and tripped him up again, two sizes too big and stiff as cardboard. Yet, he kept on running behind his brother without a single care in the world, all wind-swept hair and a toothless grin.

Summer was coming to an end, the afternoon sun no longer so violently sweltering. Rather, it caressed the two young faces, bathing them in a kaleidoscope of reds and oranges, and dragging their shadows as they dashed across the wheat fields. 

“Hurry up, dork,” Barney’s voice sounded over the grass, times clearer the closer Clint got. His hand shot up to tap his ear, once, twice, and then some more, fine-tuning it the only way he knew. It had taken some adjusting, learning to live with the water that kept swooshing in his head. A ton of cue tips too, as he’d been pretty darn confident in his ability to push it all out on his own. Some days were ordinary, mere mild discomfort that he’d learned to block and work around. Others, he was driven mad by what little he could hear and all else that he couldn’t. 

‘For every curse there is a blessing’, his momma had whispered that faithless day, stroking his hair with trembling hands and wiping off the blood that trickled down his neck ‘and you Clint are mine’. Her fear had been tangible, her sobs equal to his own, though muffled through the cotton clamped over his ear. They’d stayed in the bathroom long after his father’s drunken yelling had died down, bathed in moonlight and holding onto one another against the cold tile.

“Look!” Barney had stopped abruptly, waist-deep in the grass, and pointing at the old birch tree they’d hung their swing from “Do you see it?”

“See what?” 

“Up there, on that branch.” 

Clint’s puzzled look earned him an eyeroll and a groan. 

“The nest, Clint, do you really not see it?” 

Clint shook his head again.

“Whatever, move,” he shoved Clint out of the way, squatting to rummage through the grass, then emerging with a sizable rock in his grasp “Watch.”

“Wait, Barney, no-” 

“Remember dad showed us how to fire that old rifle?” Barney’s face scrunched in concentration “He said I was good, you know, told me to practice, work on my aim.”

He gripped the rock tighter. “Said maybe one day he’d give it to me.”

Clint hated that rifle. Hated how it made his father’s eyes gleam. Hated the squeal of animals when the bullet pierced them, how their blood seeped into the ground and their corpses rotted, killed only for a laugh from the old man. Clint hated how his ears rang for hours, how the smoke billowed from the barrel to the heavens. He hated everything that weapon represented, and the power it granted to his already unstable father. And now it had corrupted Barney. 

“Barney, no, that’s not right-”

“What are you, a wimp?” his brother’s grin was cruel. Clint held his breath “Besides it’s just eggs in there.”

“Stop it,” Clint’s hand balled into a fist.

“Aw, are you going to fight me or what?” he tapped Clint’s cheek “Or better yet, go fetch mom, sell me out like you always do. Tell her just how bad I’ve been.”

“Please, Barney.”  

Clint grabbed at his brother’s shirt, desperation in his eyes. Pleading not so much for the birds as he was for his brother. 

Years ago, when Clint was but a toddler, Barney was his best friend. He saved him quarters for the gumball machine and gingerly put bandaids on his scraped knees. He took him everywhere and showed him things, took his beatings for him. 

‘He’s just a kid’, he’d scream in their father’s face, spitting insults and taking blow after blow. 

All Clint could do back then was watch, too afraid he’d get himself and Barney in more trouble. 

Gradually, though, Barney began to retreat unto himself. He buzzed his hair off, clogging the sink with dark brown curls. He’d pick cigarette butts off the ground every time their mother sent them to the store for milk, smoking them in secret in the woods behind their house. Worst of all, he picked up their father’s mannerisms, the way he walked, the way he talked, the way he looked at girls and slapped their butts without permission. Harold Barton was already notorious in Waverly, the butcher with a potty mouth and an iron fist. Now, there were two of them. 

“You’re such a loser,” Barney spat, readying the rock “Truly your mother’s son.”

“You’re mom’s son too.”

“Quiet!”

The rock flew. Barney’s aim was perfect. The nest wobbled on the branch then toppled over with a dull thumping sound to the ground below. 

“Today’s poker day,” Barney said, picking at the dirt under his nails; a sour reminder it was Sunday “Don’t provoke him too much.”

Clint averted his eyes from him, looking at the mangled eggs in his feet instead.

“Where will you be?”

“I’ve plans.”

“Fine.”

And just like that, Barney walked off.

Clint stared at his disappearing silhouette until the horizon enveloped him, then slumped against the birch tree. He could stay. Spend the night here. Worst he’d encounter was a coyote. But he couldn’t leave his mom alone with his father. 

He allowed himself a final sigh, then squared his face, readying himself for the mess that awaited him at home.

[y00mies]

what to do to celebrate 600 followers….i fr love and appreciate all of u and i’d love 2 do smthn since i missed 500

[rose-colouredlens]

Barbie’s first time in a (real) flower field

[ylvaslooks]

Windrose

[virginia-werewolf]

my neighbor has now mowed down my garden four (4) times in an attempt to get me to abandon the space so he can use it, anybody have ideas on how to ruin his life

[anawkwardlady]

HMMM... guys it's, it's fashion okay. It's fashion.