#the illustration for this scene is perfect!

[anne-bsd-bibliophile]

- Meng Xi Shi, Thousand Autumns Vol. 2

[saracastically]

painting of a tragedy

[sweattyspaghetti]

Today is my birthday! My treat to you all is the finished Brokeback Fight Club piece :^} <3

(yes I did make the video, no I did not make the meme, shoutout to whoever did though, it gave me the energy to make this au become real)

I personally believe that Jack would take Ennis’ place while Tyler took Jack’s (how ironic) since he’s unafraid to push through but in this au there’s probably major differences as in: only follows the basic outline of what happens in the movie. Everything in between is for me and/or anyone to create because these two are sick and insane and god knows what they would be up to.

[narsh-poptarts]

Chasing Comets

[snackugaki]

one orrrr

two?

[bumblingbabooshka]

Illogical Musings From 'Pathways'

[averageludwig]

I cant stop thinking about this fix since a follower recommended it.... God... Its so good....

[cryptiduni]

“white mourning.”

[neviayue]

my perfect stranger | By Nevi Ayu E.

Let's go back to May 16th 1987! It's been a year since this aired and I still like it a lot and I've been planning this for a long time, thank goodness I finally finished this piece safely this May!

Maybe spoilers ahead, but here's what inside the boxes from top to bottom, left to right:

The time machine monitor and a hand scrolling through 1987 to 2021 and back.

Haejun and Yoonyoung's first meal together: Orange juice and the sweet savoury danjjan combo, twisted doughnuts dipped in soy sauce.

Chungah's red wool thread that Yeonwoo used...

A yellow marigold Haejun gave to Yoonyoung as instructed by someone from the future.

Suspicious Heesub wearing the blue cap.

Small Door, the cover of the book Soonae wrote!

봉봉다방 Bong Bong Teahouse and not ㅎㅎ다방 H H Teahouse matchbox, but the content changed?!

And the legendary red time machine driving in to the tunnel. See you!

[charleecat-bat]

Stares at you in Diamond

Scene redraw

OG screenshot below:

[lskamil27]

⌦ • Perfect Blue ( 1997 )

[redshoes-blues]

Here’s my season five theory:

Mike is Vecna’s main target (like Max was)

This leads to: the audience realizing his internalized homophobia, El finding out about his feelings for Will, and Will tapping into his powers

I also think since they’ll be pairing up characters again, Mike and Will are going to be paired together so Will can watch Mike and ensure that he’s safe

And I also am seriously considering them pulling a Deadlights parallel (in IT, Bev gets taken by Pennywise, thrown into the air in the same way Vecna does to his victims, Ben kisses her and it saves her) where Mike ends up in Vecna’s lair and we get a little Upside Down kiss moment that helps pull him out of the trance

Because: Vecna is all about self-hatred. He targets people who are depressed and feel guilty and who hate themselves. Mike accepting himself would be the key to defeating Vecna in this scenario. It fits in perfectly with every “moral message” this series has shown so far

That’s why I think it’s crucial that he is targeted by Vecna, because he’s such an insular character that only Bylers acknowledge the possibility (and likelihood) that he’s queer and has feelings for Will. Vecna is the perfect way to make these internal feelings shown on the screen

And remember the piggyback?

I think that, somehow, Will is going to learn how to do this as well. And he’ll see what Mike is going through and will then realize that it’s safe to tell him how he feels and the truth about the painting (if he hasn’t already at that point). I think this visual will also be the way that El begins to put the pieces together. I actually wouldn’t be shocked if she realized this before Will and tried telling him

[jonny-b-meowborn]

I miss being threatened with a gun by Jarod :( (I beat road 96 yesterday and don't wanna replay the game now cause my finals start tomorrow and I wanna fully focus on them)

[casscainmainly]

My Top 10 Batgirl (2000) Moments

This is my list of top 10 Batgirl (2000) moments!! There were so many to choose from, but these are my personal favs :)). Counting down from 10 to my absolute favourite.

10. Volving

An absolute classic. Perfectly encapsulates what Cass does throughout the entire run, and more writers should play with Cass' use of language like this!

9. Beat Up Every Mob In Gotham

Perfect encapsulation of the early Barbara-Cass dynamic, and one of the funniest moments in the series. Just love the expressions and the way this shows so much of Cass' character.

8. Choosing to Write

The entirety of issue #2 builds up to this heart-wrenching moment. After delivering a dead man's final message to his wife, Cass sees the wife's reaction to the written message and decides to learn to write. A foundational moment for her character, and a nice motherly Babs scene too.

7. Alpha Redemption

Capping off issues 35 + 36, Batgirl unmasks herself to convince Alpha (an amnesiac villain) that he doesn't have to be defined by his past. Brilliantly displays her core belief that people can change, and the fact that her belief pays off makes this moment extremely moving.

6. For God's Sake

Possibly a controversial pick, but I really like this moment because it underscores some of the fundamental conflict between Babs and Cass. They love each other, but they don't always understand each other, particularly in regards to each other's disabilities. A painful moment that should have been explored more.

5. Fight For Your Life

My favourite Stephanie and Cass moment in this run. You can feel Cass' grief throughout this hallucination, but there's also so much hope and love (for Stephanie and for herself). It's an amazing conclusion to Cass' initial suicidal tendencies: instead of desiring death, she now actively fights to live.

4. Darknight Detectives

This interaction sums up a lot of Bruce and Cass' best moments. Cass' unwavering moral beliefs, Bruce's pride, their instinctive understanding of each other; they just get each other in a way few others do. I picked this one instead of the 'instinct/good answer' moment because it also marks Cass' development in her detective ability. From Moment 8 above to here, the confidence in her mental capacities has grown so much. She really volved!

3. Perfect For A Year

I mean of course this had to be here. These lines literally take up 90% of my brain space, it's an incredibly tense moment that illustrates Cass' desire to be perfect, her need to be useful and good. This issue is also just awesome.

2. You're... Not

Another absolute classic. Illustrates Cass' compassion and her belief that people aren't defined by their lineage, which is particularly personal to her, given her own dad. This struggle between good/bad, parent/child defines many of Cass' best stories.

1. Who Do You Think You Are? + Father's Day

What else would number 1 be?? Issue 33 is my favourite in the entire run, and the entire thing is stacked with moments that could fill up this list. I just love 'who do you think you are' because it's all of Cass' rage spilling out, and yet she still loves David Cain in her own complicated way (and he reciprocates, too). Then we have the ending, which is the BEST Bruce and Cass moment ever. The sparse, meaningful dialogue, the expressions, the reveal of the TITLE: comic book writing at its finest.

Honorary mention to the Shiva/Cass fight, which just narrowly missed out.

[pierofilm]

broken lipstick. yjw

2024 | 16+ | ONESHOT 1.8K. | G-yandere; W-obsession, possessive, unhinged jungwon lol, forced kissing with lipstick yes.

DIRECTOR's CUT, found an old note of ideas in my phone from 2022 about jungwon × lipsticks, and thought that it would be a pity to not write about it so here it is. this is kind of like an experimental storytelling, just finding my way with the rhythm and pacing of the words, sentences, and grammar. so if it kinda sounds weird, apologies in advance lol !

finding yourself trapped in this world he created for you drives you terribly insane.

down, and down you go.

every words he spills—he claims that he had spent hours and days of effort for this room, curating it just how you would like it; makeup palettes and brushes, lipsticks, magazines, jewelries, pretty and dainty sundresses, coquettish bows and laces perfectly matching your taste.

everything single thing before you—was all you've ever dreamt for, wished for, manifested for. bare skin planted firmly on this king-sized bed you've listed as one of your life wishes, wrists and necks adorned with saccharine gemstones—ones you've often seen on magazines.

every single damn thing was here.

he claims that he did it because he wishes nothing but to see the finest shade of happiness be illustrated on your visage; for bliss and satisfaction weaved under the strings of fairy tales, you shall wish nothing more but to remain abode.

yes, it is an exact replica of your dream room yet a lot more bigger, lavish, but certainly not home. a doll house would be a much better, fitting term. or perhaps, a prison—masquerade as the definition of your perfect little utopia.

his eyebrows knitted at the way you worded it, saying that such comparison is absurd, and certainly is not the truth. for all that was before you, is all yours to take—and so is he.

all yours to take, he says.

but if it was yours, then why can't you wear all it outside? has he ever thought that all these things is fucking useless if you can't even bring it with you out of this sickening room? what's all these even for, you asks. he replies with that same sickening smile, "why, silly, of course it's for you."

you repeated it with spite, "no, this is not for me. you're doing this for you."

"if you say so," he brought his finger against your cheek, stroking it ever so sickeningly, causing you to lean away. "you're my priority here, your wants and needs are at the best interest of my heart. nothing more, nothing less."

it didn't miss your eyes how his composed visage falters ever so slightly, so subtle—it almost slips away from your fingers but you saw it and you didn't care.

his soul, you despises—every word etched of his existence, you loathed. death shall greet him, and you'd never spare a glance.

why would you? when just a month ago, a world filled with the brightest prospects was all waiting for you, but his grim arrival dims every glowing lantern ahead of your path, ultimately sealing the door to your future tight and begone.

akin to a rat in a trap under a cat's claws; your sanity wilting with each passing day. how many days or months has it been? you lose track of time. where is your phone, even? oh why, he asks? books and magazines was what you'd prefer over some petty little devices, so why would you need them now?

rage, despair, helplessness; you released all these pent-up frustration with each object you slammed against the floor, scattered about in a hazard mess. broken, shattered in pieces like you do. he should see it, feel it, of how his own hard work are gone into the drain, like what he had put you into.

footsteps approaching from the distance.

the door flew open, just like how he often appears, ruining every single opportunity you had back then. he appears too composed, inexplicably unfazed at the ravage scene before his eyes. his own efforts obliterated into nothing, every single thing he spent time on perfecting was wasted, in downright shambles.

you drop on your knees, suppressing your sobs as he approaches with small steps.

it was all too silent, with only your shaky gasps blending with the solemn air. with your head down, eyes locked against the wooden floor, and on your clenched fists shaking with grueling anticipation, you glance nervously at how he stands so still—staring down at you like you were an object.

you wish he just would kill you right now.

in your peripherals, however, you caught the sight of his fingers grabbing the tossed lipstick, now broken in half—it's smoothened tip now uneven. you waited for him to say something, perhaps throw profanities at you for ruining this dollhouse he had spent hours and days at.

grow mad at me, hate me, and then throw me away. in your head, you chanted these words—prayers it ultimately morphs into.

however a gasp spills out of your lips, your breath caught at the back of your throat upon seeing him applying the lipstick on his lips, still and all—while humming a melodic tune as he does so.

"is this how you do it?"

you didn't answer, only imbued with aghast at the deep shade of crimson hugging his lips. as peculiar as it may seem, you can't deny that this visage of his perfectly adorns it.

he steps closer, alarming you—manifesting straight to your eyes widening in sheer panic.

with strong arms, jungwon catches your legs before you could push him away, pulling you closer where he forces you to face him, gripping your jaw so tight and suffocatingly so into his well of eyes; with it's depths you could never fathom till your last breath.

yet he begs you to drown in them, to answer all the questions written all over within—what's so fucking wrong to just stay obedient, and be his oh so sweet darling? why can't you see his love and dedication for you? of how he's ready to give up everything for you?

maybe a slap to your pretty face would tighten the screw in your head a little, or perhaps a yell pulled out from his throat would do the trick, but oh darling—profanities don't suit you, nor does it do you justice to be treated so harshly.

fragile you are, and such a fragile one should be nested, sheltered away from this merciless world. you do not need to lift a finger, or tire your pretty little head over useless things but..

but why is it that you refuse to understand him?

evident it was, through the way you dug your nails on his hands, imbuing your ever growing hatred to him. not a single word spoken, nor spitting at each other but through your eyes—your rampant wishes of spitting him death grows enormous.

die, die, just die.

you held your breath, as a stroke of his finger on your temple—slides down your cheek. a grimace takes form on your feature as he leans in, propelling your body to fight harder against his—though, he remains stronger and faster—pouncing on you like a prey, diving in with his venom-laced fangs into your lips, forcefully so.

his carnal desires takes form across your visage; smudged, blotted, and smeared. a shade so intensified through his vows to make you understand his perception of love.

they say that love is patient, love is kind, love is forgiving.

no, that's bullshit. it's fucking slippery, a mess, metallic taste leaking out from your lip—spilling into his tongue, only for him to hum in frenzied delight. a taste so sweet, so divine, like caramel melting in his cavern.

tilting his head sideways—his tongue went further into yours, twisting and knotting like wet fabric—pooling an amalgamation of saliva, blood, and lipstick down the corner of your mouth. sticky palms on the back of your neck, spiralling you down and down into these candied greed.

heat, searing, throbbing immensely—this pain, do you understand it now? that's how his heart mourns towards your ungratefeful, petty actions. have you perhaps realise it? maybe not yet, as you still had this little fight in you, a funny sight to behold.

your head spins, flashing in mismatched colors, jaw throbbing by his gracious mouth of flames—infiltrating every corner.

soaking everything in you with his relentless rhythm—a pace you could never match as it accelerates beyond what you can take with each second. his lips, like a paint brush—and you, like a paper being crumpled into every way possible. moulding your speech into incoherent sentences, strings of pathetic cries for help drowned out into the void, your prayers to god himself had been engulfed by a devil's kiss.

what's a god, even? they say humans are made in the image of god, but he dare say that not even god are comparable to you, nor those who reign above the heavens—angels, sirens, succubus or whatever the hell are there—your feet they shall kiss.

a canvas you are—pure, and untainted. a masterpiece in the making, not even the greatest artist known to mankind could do justice to your beauty.

you're his haven, his abode. yet also a temptation, a sin, his inferno. every edge of your portrait tweaked perfectly into his own ideals and fantasies, yet also a curse, the poisonous bane of his life, so toxic—it contaminates his soul.

decaying, decomposing—perhaps he was the serpent, and you're the tenant of the garden. insatiable, the apple of eden couldn't be as mouthwatering as your visage.

so why, can't you understand his love?

if you couldn't see it before, then he'll make sure you'll see it now.

dragging you across the floor, jungwon forces you to meet your reflection in the shattered mirror. on your knees, you met this drowned out visage of yours, all visible for you to observe; disheveled hair, your cheeks bathed in intense shades of red, all the same to your neck and shoulders, lips swollen with a visible cut, drenched in all his unspoken words. a mess, you are.

his pretty little mess.

yet what a masterpiece you are, still. he coos with lips pursing up in a sweetened grin, as if he had sucked out all remaining little bits inside your little jar of hope. do you see it now? how every part of you belongs to him, all for his lips to take and taste.

"you look even prettier, all broken like this." jungwon isn't very much different, but while you look like a corpse bludgeoned into mayhem. the image he bears was of a bloodthirsty demon, an animalistic abstraction.

through the mirror, you could see him shuffling around—looking for something amongst the mess, only for the same lipstick he used as an instrument for this macabre play—returning to his palms.

with him back to your side, he delivered a stroke down your hair, tucking your locks behind your ear. a chin he places on your shoulder, one hand under your tummy and the other looped around your shoulder to reach for your lips.

the same broken lipstick, made its way on your lower lip. a shade so deep, so heavy, amplified by his twisted affection. all dolled up for only his eyes to see. your luscious hair—inviting him closer and closer, savoring the way it hugs his fingers. too delicate, the broken mirror could only shy away from you.

"mirror, mirror on the wall," the lipstick tossed on the floor, replaced by his thumb lapping your lip. "who's the fairest of them all?"

© 2022-2024, pieroulette on [tumblr].

[sporadicartcomputer]

uh hi. i wanted to illustrate one of the introductary scenes for SecUnit's character, since that would go along well with this being kind of my first post here. i... think that makes some sense. i promise more Murderbot diaries fanart after this (calling it content feels icky)). (did I start overusing brackets becouse of these books? possibly).

and i hope i captured SecUnit freaking out while trying to keep its composure at the same time well. as weird as it sounds, i like seeing depictions of it being nervous, becouse this side of it is what got me to relate to it so much in the first place (besides the heavily implied neurodivergence. though i guess the two go hand in hand). examples: in the second panel of the second page i tried showing how Gurathin's words affected it by making the speech bubbles visually "choke" (?) it, though it kept its face straight. oh, and i made it look much shorter than it actually is to mirror the way it is feeling!! figuring out details like that was pretty fun

(i'm sorry for any inconsistencies and the messy colouring and linework, i have ADHD and i get incredibly bored when i spend time trying to make everything "perfect" and looking the same in each panel... )