#thats the last one i swear

[meansevika]

Billie Lourd as Wren Butler

TICKET TO PARADISE (2022)

[iooiu]

good to know all casey jones’ are the same

[melouthechalk]

i love gambling 💥💥✨✨🎉🎉

And Slimekour Funhouse, I gave up there, both on drawing and on Slimekour

@tibbycaps save me from tagging everyone... I just did second one last min so

And screenshots from Tibby's gambling day 💥

It was fun teehee

[intotheelliwoods]

So theres... this fanfiction,,,, I May Be Invisible, Bit I Still Look Good by @dandylovesturtles !!! And there is no fanart for it!?? Excuse me?? That is changing today. It is such a good read, and got me feeling so many emotions!

I hope my sense of humor gets across well aha

This was also just what I needed to get back into digital art and practice expressions apparently!

Sketch version of the second image under the cut!

[grif-hawaiian-rolls]

something about trust

Writing below the cut!

“How… does it feel?” Locus asked haltingly. Lopez shrugged. “<Weird. But I expected that.>” Locus hummed, his brow furrowed like he was lost in thought as he scanned Lopez’s face. Lopez grabbed Locus’ wrists, bringing his hands to his throat.  “What are you--?” “<One way to test it. Take my head off.>” Locus’ eyes widened, his expression turning panicked. He tried to pull his hands away, but Lopez held him steady. “<You are the only person strong enough,>” Lopez said firmly, giving the other no room to balk any further. “<If this synthskin doesn’t fix the problem, I want to know now, not later.>” Lopez could feel the way Locus’s hands shifted, his fingers flexing as he fought some internal debate. Lopez couldn’t read his mind, but the flicker of those marble grey eyes was telling as Locus looked at his hands around Lopez’s throat, then to his face and then back again and again. “<It doesn’t hurt, if that’s what all this fuss is about.>” Not strictly true, having his head removed wasn’t exactly a pleasant feeling. But better to do it now, with some degree of control, than in the middle of a fight or an accident. The sensation of feeling everywhere his skin touched was strange though, the normally very localized sensors spread out across the surface of the synthskin. Was this how humans felt things all the time? No wonder they were so easily distracted. Neither of them moved. “You’re certain?” Locus asked finally, his voice little more than a whisper. Lopez raised an eyebrow and let himself grin just a little at being able to convey the sentiment properly. Maybe there were some advantages to the synthskin after all. “<I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t.>” A nod, then the pressure. Lopez knew Locus was strong, for a human, but the feeling of his hands tightening around his neck and pulling at his jaw, the base of his metal skull…  His head didn’t budge, and the pressure eased. Lopez clicked his tongue, releasing Locus’ wrists. “<Good. That is one problem fixed, at least.>”

[for-the-love-of-avo]

Working on skin tones and scarring with my favourite porcupine 🩷🤍

[potatobugz]

Chapter 2 is out!

[friday-answers]

universe friday easter egg:

solus asks for radio to meet them at 1508 tomsby street. besides tomsby street being an actual street mentioned in universe city within radio silence, there is something else about the address that is familiar........

i'm impressed no one has noticed it yet.... 1508.... Hm.....

[sparring-spirals]

IM HAVING THE MOST INTENSE WHIPLASH BECAUSE IN STREAM WE JUST FOUND OUT VAXILDAN IS SCREAMING IN AGONY AND THATS EXTREMELY IMPORTANT AND BELL'S HELLS ARE HAVING A VERY EARNEST CONVERSATION. BUT ALSO I NEED LIKE. A MINUTE. TO PROCESS. VAXILORB, WAIT, STOP SCREAMING FOR A SECOND. DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS. YOU SEE THAT SHIT? also does fcg have cat ears? wha

[randaccidents]

Lost Memory-Dream #00

One of many half-remembered dreams of memories that Heart has. This one might be his oldest memory ever.

(Hi! First Tangled Wisteria fic :3. Doing a small set of random memories half remembered in dreams. And a little hint to how Heart might see the world now, freshly amnesiatic.)

(ALSO this fic is unfortunately not reader tool friendly, because I'm trying to give the feeling of words being roughly scratched out of memory. I AM going to include a translated transcript in a reblog though, so look out for that if you're wondering what they are saying!)

(also I went crazy in my tags whoops)

-------------------------------------

He is standing in a space of white and grey and black. Standing in the white and in the grey are two cut-out figures, the same color as the space they stood in, yet clearly separate from the background. He himself stood in the black.

["W██ ███ █ou ███?"] He furrowed his eyebrows. The voice is blotted out and fuzzed, he couldn't clearly make out what it was saying. He tried to open his mouth, but found that he couldn't. Hm. Something told him that it was simply not his turn to speak yet.

{"███ am I? I ███ld ███ y██ ███ █ame."} This voice was the same, static-filled and words missing his ears entirely. He knew it was not meant to be that way, but he didn't know what should fill the gap. He felt the figures turn towards him, and his mouth opened on instinct.

("Don't look at me? I don't know who either of you are!") He is confused. He could tell he is dreaming, but where is this? What is this? At least this dream-him has the same thoughts that he does.

{"I ██ow ███ I ██. I'm ██e ████."} The cut out of grey had moved, a hand on its presumed chin. He tilted his head, examining the cut-out and finding nothing he could use to identify it. Who was that?

["██gi███ly, ██ ██ ████ to ██████ es█████sh██ na████ con███ti██, ██ ██████ ████ ro███ ███ na███."] There's a deepness to the few letters that ungarble themselves from the white cut-outs words. It almost sounds.... familiar?

Familiar. Nothing about this dream has felt familiar, yet he knows it is a memory. Why is his memory made of static and cut-out figures? He can't find it in himself to worry too much about it, the roots of panic strangled at the source. There is a sweet scent in the air.

His mouth moves again. ("Roles as names you say? Well wouldn't that make you the ████, since you're so logical?") It was disconcerting, hearing his own voice briefly turn to static. There was something important there. What was it?

Words were being spoken at him. The sweet scent from earlier was building. He strained to listen. ["██ ██at ██? ████ you ████ ██ █he-"]

-

-

-

He shot up in bed, mouth forming around a name quickly lost to pruned branches and faded flowers. Furrowing eyebrows under the blindfold that had been given to him, he tests out the shape of his mouth.

The letter H. He tests the letter on his tongue, finding it familiar. Still mouthing the letter, he brings hands up to brush through tangled wisteria vines and feathers alike, calming himself on the sweet scent of the flowers.

That was a memory of his name. He is certain of it. But what name starts with the letter H? And what he said in the dream, roles as names. None of it made sense to him. The bright cut-outs in his memory gave no hints either, pruned and cut out and distorted out of meaning.

What was his name? He squinted eyes he had learnt were sensitive to light down at his hands. Purple had named himself. And now a forgotten memory told him he was named by someone he could not remember.

["Purple? Are you awake? It's late morning already."] Jumping at the deep voice, Purple looked up, tossing a grin at the shadow in his doorway.

("I'm alright Blue, just thinking. Remembering? Dreaming. I'll be out in a second!") He stretches, standing up and missing Blue's reaction to his words. ("I had the weirdest dream last night.")

["Is that so. Care to share?"] Blue has a weird way of being curious. Purple is still getting used to it. He shrugs it off anyways, both Red and Blue were still just strangers with some familiar habits anyways. It's probably normal to be awkward.

("I dreamt that...") The words trail off into burnt ashes that fall from his mouth. His face scrunches up as he tries to remember the memory. Only one thing stands out to him, caught between his teeth. ("...I forgot. All I remember is the letter H.")

A cold, metallic hand gently rests itself on his shoulder, urging him forwards. ["Maybe it will return to you later. Come, breakfast is waiting."]

Perking up at the thought of breakfast, Purple nodded his head, following Blue's lead, the scent of wisterias trailing behind him as he forgot his dream in favor of breakfast. The letter H remains, lodged in the breath between his tongue and palate.

[slurpyboii]

May take this down idk I wasn't sure if I actually wanted to post it but wtv maushold my beloved. Also rant in the tags I have opinions on pokemon

[acesammy]

i am so fucking certain i'm getting these calc questions correct but i'm still getting zeros on everything and i am going to fucking s c r e am

[analogboii]

[thefallenangelxxx]

NO- NO- NOOO

[seiwas]

i think abt megumi all the time 🥲

[pitske]

crying over paleontology and extinct animals again someone come euthanize me I need to be put out of my misery