#Line art moment.. Unreal

[terrovaniadorm]

Vampire for a vampire

Here's my part of my art trade with @the27th ! With her beautiful character Ahmanet, beloved family head >:)c went with her WWDIS inspired outfit bc she looks good in white

[gayrogues]

there is no fucking way that tom king's shitty oneshot, featuring the most out-of-character riddler known to man and a batman who breaks his no kill rule and waterboards people, got nominated for an eisner award...

[twilightprince101]

Let's be careful before labeling Wally or Home as "The Villain" of Welcome Home

Or anyone for that matter imo

Listen, I can completely understand why people would go to that conclusion. "So Below" and the eerie vibe that Wally gives off in his obsession don't exactly give either a flattering light (I know there are also the art pieces on Clown's personal blog, but I'm not counting anything that hasn't been officially released yet)

But whenever someone labels a character who is acting weird as "the villain," it puts a bad taste in my mouth. At the end of the day, characters in fiction are real people with motivations, so labeling one as "evil" or "the villain" can sometimes erase that complexity. And after the most recent update, we know that Wally has A Lot of very, very complicated feelings about the situation.

Before I get into that though, I wanna point out something that Clown himself has said describes the brand of horror that "Welcome Home" gives off to themselves personally. Click here for the link to the post.

Before I get into that though, I wanna point out something that Clown himself has said describes the brand of horror that "Welcome Home" gives off to themselves personally. Click here for the link to the post.

"My home doesn't feel like home anymore."

That line sticks to me pretty hard. There's a pervasive feeling of unfamiliarity, unreality, that exists in the core of the story itself.

I think we see, firsthand, Wally experiencing this in the latest updates. In all of the hidden Bug/Answer secret videos, we see a familiar pattern. We get some sort of scene of two other characters talking, a scene in whatever universe they call home, until at the very end one of the characters addresses Wally (who was apparently there the whole time) and the video glitches out.

A key part that not a lot of people seem to realize though is that these videos are from Wally's perspective. See the above picture with Wally's hands. In every scene, Wally is present and was supposedly taking part in an activity (in the above one, helping Poppy with knitting), before the video started playing.

Whenever I saw these videos I had that same feeling that something felt. Different. The interactions felt like scenes you would see in the animated/cartoony aesthetic we'd see from the various art pieces, it doesn't feel like it's "on set/TV" to me. They're moreso just intimate glimpses into their lives. But they're shot in the real world, and that feels. Wrong.

This is very likely the same feeling that Wally's having in that moment. "My home doesn't FEEL like home." It's like he's disassociating, having a brief episode of that unreality feeling. Those bouts of strangeness don't go away until, like clockwork, someone says his name and the video ends, snapping him out of it.

Do other people in the neighborhood also feel the same way? Maybe, but we don't know. What we do know is that Wally, whether or not he tries to explain this to others, feels isolated by this sensation. "My neighbors are only neighborly until they know I'm different in a way they can see."

The only other person he likely shares this feeling with? I'd take a guess that it's Home. Nearly every time Home has been featured, Wally has been there, close. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the only physical puppets/props we’ve seen of the cast are Wally and Home.

According to this post by @eldritchravens, Home is the only other person who talks directly to Us, the viewers. That's probably why they're so close, because they're the only ones who can truly confide in each other about this.

"So does that mean Home is manipulating Wally?"

Again, I really don't think that's the case. I don't wanna call people villains quite yet. Besides, we see (or well, hear) Home and Barnaby have a conversation together, and from how Barnaby reacts it's fairly casual.

This shared feeling is likely why Wally is so obsessed with us, including the Restoration Employee. They seem to be sharing a similar sensation to Wally's bouts of unreality, in the fact that it seems they're the ONLY one who doesn't remember Welcome Home being a thing. They seem to be one of the few things that Wally (and maybe even Home) consider to be "Real." Hence their obsession with "seeing" us.

"Isn't this Wally or Home manipulating the Employee though?"

Maybe, I don't know. We don't really know much of what's going on right now, we're only getting glimpses. For all we know this could be a side-effect of Wally/Home trying to reach out. For the time being though, I want to keep my own expectations in check. I'm choosing not to label Wally, Home, The Restoration Team or anyone as a "villain" until something definitive comes up.

It is very, very likely that Wally is going to be doing something more dangerous later down the line (or maybe even is doing so now). But if he's doing anything, I get the feeling it's more out of desperation. He wants something to quell this feeling inside of him, this pervasive sense of unreality, and to connect with something he feels is "real." And, for better or for worse, that thing is us.

This whole thing isn't to bash on people for speculation or theorycrafting, I personally think speculation is very healthy! But it's still important to remember what the core of this story is going to be. We're only seeing the very start of the story right now, and we don't know what'll happen down the line. It's useful to keep that core idea at the center of our speculation so we can have reasonable expectations going forward.

As for me? This doesn't feel like a story with villains. I don't think he'll pull a Monika from DDLC and start gaining a kill count, but if something does happen to the rest of the cast, my money is that it'll happen completely by accident, and he'll regret it. Hard.

[cassiusfen]

This isn't my art, (it's made by @ TheHearthFox over on Twitter) but I wanted to make a long post about why this work in particular speaks to me so goddamn much. I think such a massive part of the queer experience -- and also the furry experience -- is about the abstract. This can be seen in so many different aspects of furry "culture," from the concept of fursonas to kink and and other fetish content. You and I will never know what it's like to be a werewolf and transform under the full moon into the form of a big hulking furry beast. However, us furries create art and other works about the idea of it anyway. We never will be able to be our fursonas -- our often idealized and "perfect" versions of ourselves -- and part of that really hurts. It hurts so bad honestly, to the point where I can't quite put it into words. In terms of queer culture, I will never know what it is like to be a cis woman, and that also messes with me a lot. Yet, I'm still trans, my identity can change, I can perceive myself as whatever I damn well please. Identity allows you to shape yourself and the world around you in your own image, even if not everyone can see its beauty.

We have ways to get at least somewhat close to how we feel in our abstraction. VRChat allows you to make an avatar of what ever you want, whether it's your fursona or just an ideal version of you. Hell, it doesn't even have to be you, it could be anyone or anything really. We have a whole industry based around creating big ass costumes that allow people to at least look something like their desired character. But it's not enough. It's never enough. I ain't religious, but sometimes I feel like I've bitten the apple, been kicked out of the garden, and now I'm left to fend for myself with an identity that my physicality will never match. When I made my fursona using an avatar base in vrchat and configured it to match my real world body scales and looked down, I honestly started crying. I take the headset off, and I'm still me. Everyone takes the headset or fursuit off and they're still the body they were given, not what they would choose. Our reality is objective, and there's no way to really change that. We can act like animal people online all day, but the moment that screen shuts off, the moment we walk away, that warm, fuzzy feeling (hehe) fades.

To think abstract is to think beyond what you can normally sense. You will never get to brush the knots out of your fur in the morning, or play with your antennae while anxious (I see you bug people). We can still have those ideas, however. I know I'm on the third goddamn paragraph and I'm just now talking about the artwork I linked but this is an important concept to me. Usually, when I think of the abstract, it feels unreal, "fuzzy" so to speak. However, in HearthFox's piece, the objective reality appears out of focus and pixelated. It feels like even if we are unable to fully embrace the abstract, we can still embrace what we can of it, and bring some sort of color to a world that doesn't feel like it is made for us. The colors being outside of the lines could suggest that our abstract perception is maybe just "painted on" to the world around us, but is that a bad thing? Is it bad to take things in from the world around you, but still look at it all in your own unique way? I think not. This also isn't only about therian identity, or furry identity, or even queer identity -- it's also about neurodivergence. You are never in the wrong for thinking about the world in a way that is viewed as "non-standard" by the rest of the world. If you see yourself as a wolf, bee, fox, bear, raccoon, a fucking plane, it's not a bad thing. We can still identify however we want, and this modern way of looking at identity is the best way for us to embrace the abstract.

Go wild, go fucking stupid. Love yourself, if you're a fox, be a fox, there are ways you can feel that way, even if it's not all of the time. We can fight, we can love, we can still find ways to elation, even if sometimes existence itself feels wrong to you. This work is but one side of abstract thinking. Look at the color the fox has compared to the objective. Look how the fur drapes, how it runs down the body, or how the snout expresses emotion. Sometimes it feels melancholic, but you cannot tell me that trying your absolute damnedest to live your identity doesn't at least bring some color to your otherwise dreary and unfocused world.

Stay safe, love yourself no matter what.

[man-down-in-hatchet-town]

VHSCC OH MY GOD

(no spoilers)

Starkid nation, you aren't ready.

So let's start with the obvious. Look, I spent thirteen years growing up with Starkid. That initial Michigan gang are deeply special to me and I will always miss Dylan, Brian R., and Corey in any show they aren't in. And this one's no different. But just as Janaya came in and took over Belle from Britney so flawlessly, Curt, Brian, and AJ were all WONDERFUL in their new roles. The gentle-but-high-energy, truly decent, romantic himbo charm Curt brought to our Springsteen boy Jim (you all are going to LOVE Jim, I promise) perfectly offset the defiant, sneering anger of Young Scrooge in "That Scrooge." Brian's reactions (particularly to the "rather take my own life" line) were so funny and some of my favorite parts of the show. And AJ... this is now my favorite thing AJ has ever done. And that's saying something. The smaller casting shake-up moments (Joey as Fezziwig, other little line re-distributions) were so fun as well!

The new act 1 is PERFECTION. I was actually surprised by how absolutely hysterical it was? Like, I won't tell you what was up with that clip on Instagram of Brian, Lauren, and Joey doing a freak-out dance, but I can tell you that their whole Act 1 deal threatened to steal the show every. Single. Time. I already mentioned Curt as Jim, but you will also love Della, who is so funny and real and truly carries us through the start of the show (Janaya is a STAR and she Curt have brilliant chemistry). Ali did a terrific job of balancing the sadness and hope that are both at the center of the devastating little Match Girl. And Jamie's Grandma... well, honestly I have no idea how to talk about Jamie's song without giving stuff away.

But the real star of the show in Act 1, as he should be, was our man Clark. I can't emphasize enough how much he nailed the writing of this whole new act. I mentioned that the new stuff is hilarious, but it's also deeply heartfelt, and also sad exactly when it needs to be. Like, the transition after Jamie's song? I can't really talk about it yet, but what that moment does with emotion is unreal. And, as expected, every song is a banger! My one complaint about this show, and it IS a big one, is that there is no cast recording of the Act 1 songs. I want to listen to them all the time.

But the good news is, I CAN listen to Christmas Carol as much as I want! The classic that started it all is back, with so many people reprising the hell out of their truly iconic roles (God I love the VHS Cratchits), and better than ever. I traditionally hate change, and I love the version of VHSCC Live! we already have so much, but I think I somehow loved this version even more? The staging is alive and clever and there are some additions and changes, particularly in "Final Ghost"/"Christmas Day," that frankly blew my mind and somehow managed to elevate the material even further. I can't wait for the digital ticket to come out so that I can talk about them. To put it simply, James Tolbert mastered his Starkid directorial debut like you won't believe. I'm so proud of him and grateful for the larger role he's taken in Starkid since they moved base to LA.

Also, the Ghost of Christmas Past is extra unhinged this year? Jaime pulled out all of the impish stops and it was the BEST.

Basically, everyone more than delivered. I haven't talked about Meredith yet but she rocked it in the band and continued to validate the hell out of my opinion that "3 Spirits" is the dark horse best song in the show.

And a special shout-out to June Saito for continuing to be a costuming GENIUS. I always love her work and this production is no exception. I honestly wanted to give the return of the Bob Cratchit costume its own round of applause.

You know, the world is a mess and everything is pretty much terrible. It's been a hard year in an impossible decade. But every once in a while you come across some art that takes all of that, acknowledges the truth of it, and somehow pulls back the curtains to harness the joy and hope that's still there under the rubble. To me, Starkid in particular has always been about finding and holding onto the hope and the beauty and humanity that allows us to endure an existence that can so often feel bleak. And VHSCC is maybe the most perfect encapsulation of that idea.

So thank you Clark, James, Meredith, Brian, and everyone who worked so hard on this little bit of magic. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Let's make a little light.

[samsvenn]

Would you do some hc's about sakamaki's cuddling with their significant other??

𝐜𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐬

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬

shu’s cuddles are filled with utter warmth and homey-ness. he loves letting you play with his hair and scalp massages have him melting like a pot of honey.

his fingers love to slowly trace along your veins, drawing mindless patterns across your lower back and spine. cuddles with him are mostly out of boredom; a time-waster to let the eldest have an excuse to drift off to his safe place, you.

cuddling with reiji makes you realize how touch starved the poor man is. you can see it from the way his hands trail after yours when you reach for your phone, the way he gently presses your head to face the same direction as his when your eyes stare way too long at his beakers, and the way his breathing changes when you let his rest his tired, pretty head atop your chest and rub his tensed temples.

all the stress leaves the man like cold, arid vapor floating towards the moonlight once he croons into your neck and soft, circles along his back welcome him to loving bliss - something that was definitely uncommon for the dork.

it felt unreal how peaceful ayato felt to the touch. there was no more boisterous, booming man-child that’d snap your neck if you ever pointed out how vulnerable he was although the possibility always lingered, depending on how cocky he was feeling that day.

the moment he sank into your plush arms and of course, chest, it was as if time stopped and ayato wasn’t the arrogant, aggregating vampire who’d make fun of you for every little flaw you have.

instead, little murmurs of vengeful possession would lull the man into grasping you tight and sin your skin to be his. both your legs twisted and interlocked with each other, fluffy red ringlets laying on top of your cheek.

his grip on you often felt like an inescapable prison. was it a cover up for his underlying abandonment issues? you’d never know the truth. however, all it took was a simple caress pressed to the corner of lips and you knew, his glassy spring-green eyes whispered so much to you; or perhaps in another sense, it even needed.

with laito, the line was barely there, yet you knew to enforce it. this man has probably done this before, countless times and with countless prey before.

but did you care? absolutely not. to care was to give him power on a pretty platter, so you took it away and didn’t look back. his touch longed for you - pleading, pretty feline eyes that promised to take you to a world of pleasure, eager hips grinding against your waist, hands keen on making you a mindless slave, and deadly venomous words that were laced and wrapped with temptation.

it was an artform at its finest. however, laito forgot that there were two pieces of art at its definition: art that made you feel and art that was so perfectly and intricately made, to the point where it felt ingenuine. it was clear where laito fell.

to try and somewhat deflect this, you fought him at his own battle: you peppered pecks to ends of his eyebrows, laid still and held him gently, as if his advances were just another part of laito being his usual self and that it didn’t matter anymore.

for the first time in a while, laito stayed quiet. and, as he held your hand, a dry chuckle bounced on your ears. he leaned more into the cuddle, until there was nothing more separating your bodies, including his desperation.

cuddling with kanato always felt like he needs you. despite his harsh words and the constant comments about various replacements, he clings to you like a lifeline. there’s always harsh nail marks on your arms and back from how hard he digs his digits into you.

thanks to his petite frame, it’s easy to position in a way that he’s laying on top of your lap and letting him nap on your shoulder. kanato likes this position too, mostly due to how much access he has to your blood and heartbeat.

with kanato, there is no such thing as a break from cuddling. you’re either together or you somehow ended up in a coffin. his nose and lips are always pressed to your skin. whether it’s your neck, the skin behind your ear, the fold that connects your collarbone or simply suckling onto one of you fingers like a pacifier as he falls asleep, it’s a reminder that you’re real and you haven’t escaped.

yet.

like his brothers, kanato is extremely touchy. his skin itches for you and he’ll throw a big tantrum the moment you stop coddling him.

“I will dismember your hands with a fork if you continue to rebel against me. Now, if you please, touch me as you desire and let your greed run wild… Or else my patience will be the one running thin.”

subaru was an interesting cuddle buddy. there’s a mental back-and-forth whenever your warmth distracted him from his other usual self-degrading thoughts. ‘i don’t want this, i don’t need this, why am i like this, this is just a physical altercation and all i need to do is punch some scumbag to feel better-’

these thoughts serve to sever himself from how close he is to being intimate and vulnerable with you. of course, it doesn’t work. the care you’re showing makes him forget all the things his mother has thrown at him as a child. whenever you two cuddle and you hold his ruffled bedhead to your heart, it’s the closest subaru has ever felt-

-to being deemed as loveable. and probably, it’ll be the closest subaru will ever come to loving himself - using the sense-losing warmth of your bodies as a proxy.

[mochinomnoms]

francesca (1K Follower Special Event)

art: “hold me, dear” by raiain

“Heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I” — Hozier, Francesca from “Unreal Unearth” Their love for you is so overwhelming, so profuse, their hunger for love is worse than their hunger for food, water, or sleep. They yearn for you and your affections, like a baby yearns for the embrace of their parents. From the gods above, to the demons below, there is no where that can house or comprehend the love you share with them. spotify playlist

A song fic event to celebrate over 1,000 followers!

Requests are closed

Rules

Anyone can use this event and prompts on their own blog! Tag me in so I can read all your stories!

This event will be for TWST on my end, others are free to use for whatever they'd like!

All request will be up to 500 words, with a max of 3 characters per request

Chose one prompt for each request with one song (randomly selected line will be used for the request), and indicate if you want romantic or platonic. You can also indicate if you want fluff, hurt/comfort, suggestive, nsfw etc.

Reader will default to gender-neutral unless asked otherwise

Dialogue Prompts (@mcflymemes: 1/2/3)

“It's funny. Sometimes I think I've already fallen in love with you as much as possible… and then we share a night like this.”

“I'm falling more and more in love with you every day.”

“Do you feel connected to me when we're together like that?”

“You made a few sounds I've never heard before.”

“Can I get you anything? Do you need me to do anything?”

“Touch me like that again.”

“You look so good like this.”

“Tell me when I can move.”

“It's like your body was built for mine.”

“You like that, don't you.”

“You don't know what that does to me.”

“Kiss me again, and don't stop this time.”

“I can't bear the thought of living without you.”

“You complete me.”

“I want all of you. Every piece of you.”

“I won't lose you again.”

“You're the most important person I have ever known.”

“The universe gave you to me.”

“Can I kiss you again? I promise I won't get carried away.”

“Where you go, I follow.”

Song Selection

Hozier, “Unreal Unearth”; “Wasteland, Baby!”; “Nina Cried Power — EP”

De Selby (Part 1)

De Selby (Part 2)

Francesca

Eat Your Young

First Light

Movement

Talk

Be

Sunlight

NFWMB

Moment's Silence (Common Tongue)

Rio Romero, “Good God!”

Inarticulation

Nothing's New

Twice

Eyedress, “Let's Skip to the Wedding”

Romantic Lover

Jealous

Kiss Me Like It's the First Time

Ricky Montgomery, “Montgomery Ricky”

Line Without a Hook

My Heart Is Buried in Venice

Mr. Loverman

Kali Uchis, “Sin Miedo (del Amor y Otros Demonios)”

la luna enamorada

telepatía

Misc. Artists

See You Again (Tyler, The Creator, “Flower Boy”)

Me Gustas Tu (Manu Chao, “Próxima Estación: Esperanza”)

Die For You (The Weeknd, “Starboy”)

🎶 francesca masterlist 🎶

“It ain’t workin’ ‘cause you’re perfect”: jamil viper x gn!reader — #19

“And flew like a moth to you, sunlight, oh, sunlight”: azul ashengrotto x gn!reader — #15

“Be like the love that discovered the sin”; “And I'd be the immediate forgiveness in Eurydice”; “If I could hold you for a minute/I'd go through it again”: jade leech, trey clover, ace trappola (separate) x gn!reader — #16

“Y al contemplarla en su mirada”: azul ashengrotto x gn!reader — #4

“I always want your love”: ruggie bucchi x gn!reader — #19

“Oh, was it something I said to make you feel like you're a burden”; “All my emotions feel like explosions when you are around”: leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto (separate) x gn!reader — #15 [PENDING]

“Si te tuviera de frente, la mente te la volaría”; “You know that I can see right through you”: deuce spade, lilia vanrouge (separate) x gn!reader — #9 [QUEUED]

“'Cause we've found ourselves in quite a situation”: silver x gn!reader — #9

“The sky set to burst, the gold and the rust”; “But after this, I'm never gonna be the same”: jade leech, floyd leech (separate) x gn!reader — #3

“It's got nothing to do with us”: divus crewel x gn!reader — #16

“One look is all it takes”: floyd leech x afab gn!reader — #15

“I'm not always right”; “It's gonna happen sometimes”; “I don't think of giving up”: azul ashengrotto, riddle rosehearts, kalim al-asim (separate) x f!reader — #14

“You know I'm just a flight away”: floyd leech x gn!reader — #7

“I can hear your thoughts like a melody”: kalim al-asim x gn!reader — #19

“I wish I could fall in love with you again”; “I know I can fall in love”; “I can only hope that’s what you are craving too”: jack howl, sebek zigvolt, silver (separate) x gn!reader — #19

“Que se podría hacer el amor por telepatía”: jade leech x gn!reader — #4

“And are you pretty or handsome? My words are on ransom”; “With you by my side is where I wanna stand”: trey clover, ruggie bucchi (separate) x gn!reader — #11

“Honey, I'm put in awe of somethin' so flawed and free”: silver x gn!reader — #15

“La venganza es dulce, ¿sabes? (Dulce, dulce, dulce, dulce, dulce)”: ace trappola, deuce space (poly) x gn!reader — #1

“I am just a line without a—”; “And if I've lost my charm / Apologies due, no harm”; “Forgive me, I'm not naïve”: floyd leech, azul ashengrotto, jade leech (separate) x gn!reader — #19 & #16

“Me gusta volver, me gustas tú”: jack howl x gn!reader — #13

“Nothing fucks with my baby”; “I'd wanna be felled by you”: leona kingscholar, vil schoenheit (separate) x gn!reader — #16

“And I've found hope in a heart attack”: jack howl x gn!reader — #13

Bonus:

“Heaven is not fit to hold a love like you and I”: ace trappola, deuce spade (poly) x gn!reader — #1

“¿Qué horas son, mi corazón?”: grim (platonic) x gn!reader — #20

[melodyofhisheart]

description of my lover | matty healy.

hi !! here's an adorable chapter!! i hope you'll enjoy it as much as i do!! (matty is just a simp is this writing tbh..)

The last rays of the sun slipped through the patterned curtains of the room, creating a golden tapestry that enveloped every corner of the space. Seated cross-legged on the bed, his journal resting on his knees, he let the pen glide across the paper, allowing the words to flow from his heart with an ineffable intensity.

Beside him, she slept peacefully, her soft, steady breath giving rhythm to the air. Her face, bathed in the light of twilight, seemed like a delicate, sacred work of art. His gaze could not turn away from her, absorbing every detail of her being.

Lines took shape under his pen, each one dedicated to her and the way she illuminated his life. Her eyes, two sparkling jewels in a case of tenderness, transported him to a world where only the depth of her gaze and the intensity of their shared emotions existed.

Her slightly half-open eyelids hinted at distant dreams, a part of herself she shared with him alone. Every bat of her eyelashes was a silent promise of trust, an invisible bond that united them beyond words.

The contours of her face, sculpted with divine grace, evoked infinite softness. Every angle, every curve, was an expression of the perfection to which she naturally aspired. He gazed at her, fascinated by the way even the stillness of her sleep seemed to dance with innate elegance.

Her lips, soft and inviting, were the source of so many shared moments. Every smile she gave him was a caress to his soul, every kiss exchanged was a promise of their unconditional love. He wrote the words as if each letter were traced by the memory of her warm breath against his skin.

Her hair was spread out on the pillow, a silken case that framed her face in a way that defied description. His fingers, as he scribbled, wanted to lose themselves in her locks, slipping between them like filaments of nocturnal silk.

The words formed in his mind, each one a musical note to the song of their love. He wrote of how her laughter brightened even the darkest days, how her presence was like a refreshing breeze in a stifling world.

Her hands, placed with natural grace on the sheet, seemed to be an extension of her heart. He explored the story written in her gestures, the silent language of her touch that made him feel at home, even in the midst of a tumultuous world.

Her secret dreams seemed to dance behind her closed eyelids, and he divined them, interweaving them into the words that took shape beneath his pen. He spoke of the hopes she carried, the aspirations that would animate her in the days to come.

The words filled the page, each sentence a declaration of love and a celebration of what they shared. And as the sun continued its slow descent over the horizon, her sleeping face was bathed in a golden, almost unreal glow.

His heart beat with renewed passion, each word a faithful reflection of what he felt. He wrote with increasing intensity, his thoughts spilling onto the paper like an enchanting melody.

Finally, he put down the pen, the open notebook in his lap, the words printed on the pages like an imprint of his love for her. His eyes rested on her face, so close to him, lit by the setting sun.

The silence of the room was filled with the echo of his thoughts and feelings. His heart beat to the rhythm of their connection, each beat a reminder of the intensity of his love.

Her lips occasionally smiled, a softness that spread across her face like moonlight over the ocean. His fingers were tempted to touch them, to caress that soft reflection of her joy. But he refrained, leaving her rest in peace, knowing that it was precious and deserved to be preserved.

The light wind through the window gently lifted a few strands of her hair, bringing them to life like moonbeams filtering through the branches of a tree. Her hair, so soft to the touch, was like an enchanted forest he wanted to explore again and again.

His thoughts drifted to her entire being, wandering into the subtle contours of her silhouette. Every curve, every fold of the sheet that covered her, was an invitation to admire her in all her beauty. She was like a work of art he never tired of contemplating.

He thought back to all the moments they'd shared, every burst of laughter shared, every silence shared, every kiss exchanged, every time he'd made love to her in that bed. His heart palpitated as he thought of how she had managed to capture his mind and soul, to become the star that guided his steps through the night.

The notebook in front of him was his sanctuary, a place where he could express emotions that sometimes seemed indescribable. Every word he put down on paper was an offering, proof of the deep love he felt for her. He knew that his texts were imperfect odes to her greatness, melodies that could never fully capture the magic she embodied.

As the golden glow of the sunset intensified, she seemed to melt into the room, becoming part of the magnificent landscape surrounding her. The warm hues blended with her skin, creating a visual harmony that only accentuated her natural beauty.

He lay gently beside her, their breaths mingling in the darkness. His fingers slipped to link with hers, a silent embrace that conveyed all that words could not express. He could hear her heartbeat, feel her warmth close to him, and he knew that this was where he belonged, beside her, in this moment, in this embrace.

[gemharvest]

Might not be exactly what you asked for but PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE go into more depth about the bf and pico drawing with the kinto pet song lyrics 🙏🙏🙏🙏 it has haunted me in a good way and I will explode without more

UR MORE THAN FINE DWWW it's easier for me to ask for prompts but I LOVE ASKS IN GENERAL I like getting to ramble. Forever and always if you see me post something and you want me to elaborate on it/ have specific questions/ literally whatever PLEASE DON'T BE SCARED TO SEND AN ASK IN !!!

okay needed that out of the way first LOLLLLL

The like. Images I get in my head when I listen to this song drive me insane like this was just me putting it into one image but I could deadass do a full PMV if I had the time.

Obvi I prefer to draw in a more Funkin'-influenced style, but esp. with how Pico is drawn I hope it's clear I was leaning into the Pico's School side of things.

(continuing under a cut because I am about to Ramble)

I don't think I was consciously thinking abt it the other night BUT at least the first verse makes me think. Of the Love Conquers All version of Pico's School. An ideal ending; Cassandra is convinced not to carry out her plan, nobody dies, Pico certainly wouldn't be Going Through It. Maybe in this ideal ending they (Pico & BF) wouldn't have split. "In this world, we're friends forever".

I also imagine it as like.. basically how the art I did ended up being. They're just black lines on a white background. Faces obscured. Maybe with some visual effects that distort things too/ some pixelation whatever. I actually think I was planning to have some parts of that pixelated but forgot by the time I was home and could draw; might have been for the best but here's a version with a biit of what I'm talking abt.

They're in a void. Separate from the real world, but happy. Stuck in a loop of the happiest time of their lives (mostly thinking from Pico's perspective with that lol). Is that not better than having to continue on in a fucked reality?

Of course, that's not real. It's just an imaginary loop of "what if"s in Pico's mind. It's a world he built for Boyf.

In this world, Boyfriend is always following with Pico, always showing him kindness and always smiling. Pico's emotions are less readable; maybe in a proper PMV I'd give him his mouth too so he can show he is at least somewhat happy, but despite being the "leader" of the two, he is much more passive, reserved. They are always holding each other's hands.

Verse 2 would be the inverse (lol), signaled by the stronger beats kicking in. White lines on black background. It's no longer the ideal world, and instead the "real world". Real, but distorted by trauma. "Inside my code, you'll always be". The world Cass built for Pico.

The bit of instrumental between verses 2 & 3 would be the Real real world, going forward to when FNF would take place; Pico and Boyfriend reconnected, through less than ideal means, though reconnected nontheless.

We're back to black lines on white background, but everything's less distorted. There's more details too, the world not just being a hazy backdrop for Pico and Boyfriend to play around in, but real.

He's different from Pico's memories, obviously, drawn now in the FNF style fully. More confident, still stupid. He has Girlfriend now.

The first 2 lines of verse 3, his imagined worlds and the real world melt together. Mixed in ways that highlight a feeling of off-ness. Everything feels strange, distorted, unreal.

The last 2 lines it's just Pico and Boyfriend hanging out alone. "All that's left is me and you/Lots of fun that we can do". Boyfriend cheery as ever, while Pico is visibly nervous-- uncharacteristic for him but we don't see if Boyfriend notices.

The strong beat kicking in again sends us back to the imagined world. The good world. But things are wrong. The real world is slipping in, things are no longer stagnant; no longer perfect. Visual distortions/ glitches worsen.

Pico could delude himself when he hadn't known where Boyfriend was; now that he's back, his world warps. No longer under his control. He is not in the lead.

The first half of the outro Boyfriend is still mostly playing along, though still seems to be growing disinterested. Pico is noticably anxious, clearly seeing how the other is no longer like a puppy at his side. Boyfriend is pulling away. Why is he pulling away, when everything's "perfect"? Why is everything going wrong. "The world I built, designed for you".

The second half of the outro, Boyfriend is now actively pulling away. He no longer looks like the idealized, young Boyfriend. He's older, a stranger, he doesn't care for Pico anymore. Pico is older now too, desperately holding on to Boyfriend. Unwilling to let him go again, first in the real world and now in his mind. Boyfriend refuses to hold his hand but Pico still grips onto his arm. Their eyes finally become visible in the imagined world.

Pico's behavior mirrors Cassandra's involvement in the second verse, though unintentionally violent as opposed to her intentional violence. He's selfish, desperate to hold on to his world; to Boyfriend. He's hurting the imagined Boyfriend in the process, but that is second in his mind to him so desperately trying to avoid a second heartbreak. Anything to keep his world together, his peace. Without it, he just has the dark.

Beyond this screen, you cannot leave Inside my code, you'll always be Endless fun that we can do In a world I built for you

In the final instrumental and as the song fades out, Pico wakes up. He's shaken, disgusted by how he acted in his mind and feeling like he's nothing but an anchor to Boyfriend, holding him back. He can't keep clinging to this false reality, nor can he pretend he's doing any good by being in Boyfriend's life again. His mind is made up.

...

LOL I hope the way I summarized The Thoughts I get paints the picture I get in my mind. I've got terminal artist brain I am imagining AMVs to near everything I listen to I am not joking; had to take a break halfway through typing this to walk around a store and I was looping KATAMARI by femtanyl for like half of it imagining an edit in my head. I can imagine anything jpeg.

I wanna very much stress that all that above would have been filtered through Pico's mind. He's not actively hurting Boyfriend, but he's fucking terrified of doing so and he feels so fucking guilty for continuing to hold on to the past they had. I guess it wouldn't be apparent from what I described but he'd also feel guilty for still having feelings for him when the other has moved on and even has a girlfriend.

His world, once his perfect escape from the anguish of his reality, corrupts as he feels worse and worse over even entertaining the thoughts. Him deciding to forget his world and, in turn, go to cut off Boyfriend for the other's sake is not based on objective reality, but an act of self-sabotage that he convinces himself to be the best outcome for everybody.

^ Literally included him doing this shit in a part of that last fic I did you can tell this is something I find interesting exploring with him.

The tone of the song too just fucking.. it adds to the eeriness I'd want out of a proper PMV of this idea. The way it's clearly an homage to the IBM 7094 singing Daisy Bell; the voice and instrumentals just feel so unnerving. Sweet and innocent on the surface, but clearly holding bad intentions. Maybe not intentionally bad, maybe misguided good even, but they are not good nor sweet nor kind. I am talking about the song on it's own divorced from it being from KinitoPET what I describe here is just the feelings it gives me in regards to my favies.

Anyways uhhhh god I could go on for hours but I've been going off for long enough I'm sorry to anyone reading this who had to sit through my insanity. My head is now lighter with this information shared tho.. I guess in conclusion: I am definitely normal and neurotypical and can be trusted to listen to music and be into my games without creating the most devastating ideas known to man. xoxo

[lucyfloyenworkshop]

Twisted Wonderland: 5 Homeplaces and Countries I wish to see in futurs “Travel Events“

It’s been two years now since the first Twst’s “Travel Event“  Scalding Sands' Al'ab Nariya was released. In theses events, groups of four NRC’s students goes to explore and discover  countries outside of the College’s ground. Event if the unstanding Crimsom Flowers and Bell of Salvation that take place in the City Flowers (XVI century like Paris) and Port Fest : Breezy Brass Beat make us discover the town that separate Night Raven College and Royal Swords Academy are indeed “Travel Event“, I will focuced there on the “Travel Event“ which  NRC main characters’s to visit one of them’s homeland.

So there is a kinda of Top five of the homeland/birthplace that I wish to see in futur “Travel Events“ :-) 

1) Briar Valley (Malleus, Silver, Sebek and Lilia)

I don’t where to start for that entry...

It’s feels so unreal.  It’s just wasn’t so expectating to see Briar Valley and that beautifull tribute Evelyn Earl art for Sleeping Beauty by designning the forest just like he’s. When, at the end of Chapter 7 Part 3, the forest background appeared on screen with this little soft medieval medley, I was crying of joy... before Past’s Lilia show up and Part 4′s releasing. I am currently working on a review centered on Part4′s narrative and lore events, and artistics easthetics (I hope to published it before Part 5 releasing ( There is too much things that I wish to talk about T_T )) but in paralle to give a such turmoil of angst, tears and melancolia, Part 4 give more expectations and for finaly seeing Briar Valley.

I wouldn’t be suprised that some time after the end of Diasomnia Arc, we got a Briar Valley’s Travel Event. Even in the Main Story, the only Valley’s locations that are revelead to us are the forest and a frontier wasteland. The rest of the time we got the area’s map with the charaters in front. We heard and read that they goes into villages and towns... And I thinks it’s on purpose. First, to stay in the dream/memories’s easthetics (some locations are clear in our mind while others, of least importances are shady or blure)  but also, indirectly give us, tease us with that countries, so often mentionned by Diasomnia boys, but so mysterious. Like them ( and the others characters) make us care and wanting to discovred their homes.

In plus of the towns and folk only evocated in the Main Story, I wish to finaly see Silver and Lilia’s house, the rest of Zigbolt family, how the relation involted between Humans and Fairies and also modern days Royal Castle ! And one of the castle’s location, I wish to see, is Malleus’s Roses Garden ^///^

According to Malleus's Silk Adorned Voice Lines, one of Briar Valley traditions is the creation of fabrics by spinning wheel. It’s can be an interesting festival. Even if, the fabrication of the fabrics from the transformation of the flax fibers to fabrics will be assist by the using of magic (as is the Briar Valley fairies’s way), the final production’s qualily may be depend of both the imagination and emotions of the group (elements that are the base of magic in Twst Lore) and also the bound between them. It’s can be, like Elinor and Merida’s tapissery a way to restore the bounds between the characters, after Diasomnia Arc...

2) Northern Pyroxene/Shaftlands (Jack and Vil)

We need to talk.

If in Sunset Savanna's Tamashina-Mina, I can understand that he couldn’t take part to the story (I means Leona, didn’t cross your mind that an artic wolf beastmen cannot handle a place so hot !) but Haverston... The whole story is about one of Jack’s trainning... Sledge !!! It’s true that Jack’s intervention could change at some point the story and perphash put some shadow on the team and Epel’s leaderships. I don’t know... But still, it’s been a long time that Jack don’t had his glory’s moment.

More I read, listen trivias and stories about his hometown, his familly, more  I wish so deeply to see to discover his hometown. For some reason, it make me imagined it in a kinda place as a kinda Alaska land type, just like in Brother Bear or Disney’s adaptation of Jack London’s White Fang. In theses both movies, and specialy in Brother Bear, we see how, Nature is an unstanding wonder.

I imagine the group leading by Jack participated at some exploration races across the mountains, maybe setting during autumn.  And all alongside Jack’s little brother and sister. I think he is the only student with Jamil ( and Idia) to have blood siblings much younger than him. All the others are olders and already having a job. I wish to see them so much ! Who they look !! To know their names ^^ 

3)  Port O’Bless (Sam)

I know ins’t a NRC student’s homeland. It is Sam’s but he is one of NRC’s character ;-)

I loved and still love so much the Princess and the Frog . I remember when I see it for the first time in the movie theater. The movie is so beautiful , the music so entrainante (Down to New Orleans, Friends form the Other Side etc), the story, the charaters, Dr Facilier... Everyting is so gorgeous. I wish so much to see the NRC’s boys go there !

 According to Jamil Union Birthday Personal Story, in which we got some informations about the town, Port O’Bliss is the setting of many movies productions. It’s can be an opportunity for the Film Studies Club to goes on location for studing/exploring or even better making a short movie on famous filmming locations !  To make references to New Orleans’s Quartier Français and its legends... In that same Personal Story, we learn, like in the animated movie and real life’s New Orleans, music take an important part of the town’s history. I know that mascarade, and music processions like Port Fest ~Breezy Brass Beat or Crimson Flowers and Bell of Salvation were the main topic  but, like for Jack’s potential event, may be there is a way to make a twist of theses topics and bring theses in Port O’Bless’s esthetics.

With Crimson Flowers Event (Let My Wish Resound) and Chapter 6 (Absolutely Beautiful , Ya-Hoo with Everyone!, Piece of my World’s NRC tribe version), we got indeed some songs, but Twisted Wonderland differ from the Disney’s animation pictures.  If the characters sung, it’s a performance, planned with trainning and preparation. So, like the Princess and the Frog maked a  tribute to 2D muscial animationed movies, a Port O’Bliss event can be the tribute to the game inspiration...    

4) The Coral Sea and the Lands of Dawning (Azul, Floyd and Jade)

To be fair, it’s was until I was preparing that post, that I realise that I was wondering about how look Octovinelle’s three unfamous residents’s hometowns and surroundings XD.  Until know we know only the seeting of Atlantica Memorial Museum (Chapter 3), in what it’s can be called the Coral Sea’s “Warm Area“ because of the vivid colors of the corals, fishes, water temperatures etc... But it was reveled in Chapter 4 and recently in Chapter 7, that the northern area of the Coral sea is more cold-tempered or completely artic, with the formation of icebergs when winter came. When we take a look closer, we notice that  Coral Sea occuped at least half of the map. So much of variations of submarine ecosystems and seafarers’s cultures ! 

According to Azul in a conversation with Riddle during Ignihyde’s Arc, there is some “intercultural gathering centers“ in the Land of Dawning that can allowed to Seafolk to meet Landfolk. The event can be based on that easthetic, meeting the Ocean and the Shore may be trought a kinda of treasure chase in a shipwreck yard... Prehasp with some pirates’s eathetics.  

After Dragons and medieval legends/easthetics, I love sea and pirate’s stories. During the both Halloween Event, thank to Savanclaw theme’s booth, we got some Pirates of Carribean‘s vibes and I think that will be a good mix with a potential Coral Sea based event... or being the topic of an entire event.

5) Kingdom of Heroes (Idia and Ortho)

According to Chapter 6, it was indirectly and directly presented that, the kingdom of Heroes is the twisted version of Hercule’s Greece. We learn, trought the fun video-game sessions planned by Idia and Ortho, about the Legendary Hero’s Entrainer (Phillip), the Legendray Hero (Hercule), a authentic Hydra monster etc... But that all. Just the legacy and all most nothing of the Knigdom itself. 

Since Sclading Sand, all the “Travel Event“ narrative struture is based about local festival, like  fireworks in Al'ab Nariya,  ritual challenge of Tamashina-Mina,  or races for Kelkkarotu and White Rabbit Festival. The more close I can get and which is present in the animated picture, the Old Greek Games Festivals, the most famous ones are Olympy’s, Delphi’s or Corinth’s. Theses sportive games where organised to celebrated the Gods and a way to confront in an no-military situastions the differents cities. There was also, artistic festivals and in partirculary theater’s competitions.

But it’s where I am running out of theories. As far I wish to see that location and see a Twisted Wonderland version of Greece, there a tiny, little problematic detail... Idia. In each event there was a true and solid reason to gathering the group that will discovred the country, with ahead the student how is originated from.  What could encouraged, no motivated Idia, that dear hermit, to goes there ? Not family’s reunion certainly. A convention with Olympus’s Compagny and playing with Ingihyde’s Big Five Heroes vibes or there is no need of an external motivation. Maybe, it could be the change for Idia, and Ortho, to finaly reach their childhood promise. To discover and explore the World outside and upside Island of Woe...

Twisted Wonderland is a such vast world.  There is so much countries and distant lands to discover. Maybe one day we will see Cater, Riddle and Trey or Rook home towns. Some countries are only mentionned like the Kingdom of the Crimson Dragon, the Sunshine Lands or all theses territories that are charted on the map but not ( yet) named. Maybe in the futur, we, and NRC’s students, will goes in a country inspired by  Brave’s Scotland, Encanto’s Columbia, Book of Jungle’s India ... 

I hope you enjoyed that post. Take care where you are :-)

[clever-fox-studios]

Fatass art dump time continues of all the neat things I made while in the SAMS server. I'm not active now, as I've stated before (somewhere) but it does have a special place in my crusty dusty heart for getting me out of a massive art block phase I was in; I did so much art while in that group, it was unreal. If you knew me irl, I'd maybe draw one picture every two or three months, it felt like, so the sheer volume of nonsense I generated, the styles I developed and designs I fell in love with will always be because of that goofy server

First off, memes! Starting with my favorite that still makes me wheeze

I only grabbed a handful of my favorites, as mobile only let's me upload 10 pics at a time

I have no idea why I drew this thing, but Bio!Hazard Killcode ended up being a favorite "why tf not" design I did even though I will probably never draw him again because details

Lucky Blocks was one of the first vids I watched of the show so I commemorated it by drawing Sun's non-canon son, the proto-star

And then later decided we needed more Eclipse Rizz and drew Eclipse and Solar (mechanic Eclipse) in corset vests because I had a problem and needed to make it everyone else's. you can probably tell I was really getting into my DCA art style given how much I could draw it across the board with all the characters (though I never drew KC in my Legacy style now that I think about it--)

Anyway... moving on to probably my favorite thing to come out of that art stampede:

CRUNCHY ART

I get really into monochrome + crosshatching cuz my style works incredibly well with bold lines and grayscale for some unholy reason

Really love the yandere vibes this still gives off; Eclipse, you petty bitch /pos

Pretty sure we all know when this dropped, cuz it was within two days of the vid posting

But before then, we got the OG crunchy: the scariest moment in all of SAMS (to me) that literally made me jump. I coined it the "Junji Ito" art style because it was the vibes I was going for

It worked out exceptionally well for poor KC as well, that time he was modified by The Creator while he was just vibing in Moon's body, minding his own business

I think that was all of it. Well, except stills from that (unfinished) animatic but that's on Youtube now so I probably don't need to post those on their own... maybe??

[hwei-theories]

╰┈➤ What exactly do Hwei's paintings look like?

I made a post about how Hwei's paintings are similar to impressionism and surrealism (here). But what do Hwei's paintings look like exactly?

Hwei's paintings are a reflection of his unique artistic vision and his ability to manifest his imaginative ideas in a dynamic and magical way. They are not mere two-dimensional representations, but rather three-dimensional images that come to life, blurring the line between reality and art.

The visions that fill Hwei's head are translated onto the canvas with vivid colors and intricate details. His paintings often depict ethereal and fantastical landscapes, showcasing a blend of natural elements and surrealistic imagery. For instance, he may paint scenes of lush forests with vibrant flowers, majestic mountains with swirling clouds, or serene lakes reflecting a multitude of colors.

We know that Hwei has already drawn a landscape through his lore. He painted the Sea of ​​Koyehn for the temple masters.

Hwei's mastery of artistic magic allows him to control the thoughts and emotions of those who witness his art. As a result, his paintings evoke strong emotional responses in viewers, drawing them into the world he has created. The emotions conveyed in his art range from joy and wonder to melancholy and introspection.

In terms of style, Hwei's paintings exhibit a unique blend of impressionism and surrealism (click here for more). The use of vibrant colors and brushstrokes that capture the essence of a fleeting moment or emotion is reminiscent of impressionist techniques. At the same time, Hwei seamlessly combines elements of reality and imagination, blurring the boundaries between the two, which is characteristic of surrealism.

Hwei's artworks often feature symbolism and visual metaphors that invite viewers to interpret and contemplate their deeper meanings. He may incorporate recurring motifs such as cracked earth, songbirds in golden cages, or all-seeing eyes (click here for more) straining full of veins. These symbols represent Hwei's exploration of his own inner darkness, his quest for understanding, and his desire to shed light on life's intrinsic elements through art. (From Hwei's short story: I stand in a glade and imagine it drowning in sights unreal. Grass melts. Rocks swirl into twisted faces. Leaves turn to liquid and drip down branches, bleeding into pools.)

Hwei also paints lively elements like flowers. For example, in his short story, Hwei painted water lilies for a woman to comfort her.

Here we see a specific example of what Hwei's paintings look like.

Here is an analysis of this video: ╰┈➤Hwei Cinematic - Surging Beauty - League of Legends - Analysis

[croaker-conspiracies]

Welcome to Truther Nation

I am Truther Steve and this is the Croaker Files.

This is my second time making this blog. Worry not previous Truthers, I have not soft blocked you.

I realize my original goals were foolish. I could never figure out the faceless and there is no bottom to this muppet hole.

The truth may be out there, or maybe trying to find the truth is hubris. If anyone will find out, it will be me, Truther Steve.

Armed with my Truther Spirit, I will be analyzing The Muppet Joker and his religion. Most of my focus will be on Tumblr's very first real cumifact. I will make connections, I will speculate, and I will hunger for sweet knowledge.

Certified Olipop enjoyer.

Masterpost

Truther etiquette is under the cut

Before joining Truther Nation, please be over the age of 18. Heavy triggerwarning for unreality.

General Etiquette

Be kind to me and others in the community

No kinkshaming of any kind on my blog

Be respectful of others' religious beliefs and identity

Do not bring drama to my blog, I refuse to bring negativity into the muppetverse

Do not flirt with me or ship me with anyone, I am engaged.

Asking Etiquette

Be as specific as possible

Double check that you have anon on if you don't want your blog published

Refrain from asking why my first blog was deleted, my dms will be open for that

Questions about myself are ok, I am an open book

No diagnosis or mental health speculation on anyone

Do not come into my ask box to tell me someone is talking shit about me as per no drama rule

Avoid asking about the reality of Croaker, I will answer some questions about it. I'm just not interested in the topic at the moment

Never ask for screenshots of personal correspondence between me and anyone else. If I have not shared something, then it's not meant to be shared. I respect everyone's right to privacy, and I want the people talking to me to have full trust that they can confide their secrets to me. I will never cross this line.

Common Tags

Croakerfiles- my conspiracies about Mr. The Frog

Tmj catalog- Croaker's posts

Olipop catalog- Olipop posts

Olipopfiles: my conspiracies about The New Kind Of Soda

Truther talk- my thoughts and / or statements

Truther answers- answers to asks

Truther personal- life updates and tmi

Truther art- my art :3

Muppet fetish- Muppet hole posts and me talking about Muppet kink

Anti croaker- tmj antis, and anti croaker rhetoric

The brotherhood- thoughts about the religion and where it's going

Brotherhood catalog- posts from the brotherhood

Out of respect for Croaker and The Brotherhood the following words will be censored

M*ss p*ggy

H*rse

G*nzo

B*tman

F*rce f*m

[cosmikazie]

me and my brother are both pulling an all-nighter right now looking for movies to watch and we found this one called “A Frozen Christmas 3” which… is very interesting, to say the least.

First of all, it doesn’t show up ANYWHERE on iMDB, at least not as I’ve been able to find. Only other D-list Christmas movies with the same/similar title. It’s quite astonishing that me and my brother were able to find it at all in the first place, buried deep in the Free Movies category on Comcast.

(Update: literally while writing this, I found its Rotten Tomatoes page, and it seems that it does have an iMDB page after all, it’s just disguised with the tag line “party time!”)

Second of all, I think it’s worth noting that the poster for this movie looks like this:

The gall of these people to call this a “Christmas Classic”, istg. You’ll see what I mean in a moment.

Now, keep this art style in mind. Look at it, absorb it, remember it, just… keep it in mind, alright?

We couldn’t help but notice an odd picture in the background of our little viewer thing. One that didn’t quite match the art style of the movie poster here. A strange little elf, who looked like he came right from a tech demo on a VHS tape:

I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was a little off about this movie. I was being misled to some degree. So I decided to watch just a tiny bit of it to see just how correct I was in my assumption.

Holy shit. I don’t think I’ve ever had more whiplash upon starting up a movie.

ALL OF THESE ARE REAL SCREENSHOTS (courtesy of the YouTube upload because I just figured out that was a thing)

It looks like it can’t decide whether it wants to be made in Unreal Engine, Roblox, or plain Blender. It’s absolutely horrendous and I’m absolutely convinced it’s either a movie for really really young children, or a money laundering scheme. They made 5 of these movies to my knowledge, so it could be both.

Also, I’m convinced the Rotten Tomatoes page for this movie had the best gallery I’ve seen on anything:

[lu-sn]

#kpweek2022 day 2: reignite

namphueng & chay & porsche, character study, secrets and suspense, 2K

-

“Mae?” Chay says, kneeling in front of her. He’s here alone. “I’m going to visit every Thursday night, okay? I’m going to sit over there. I might bring my homework, or my – my guitar, maybe.”

Namphueng watches him, his dear face. Her baby, all grown up. (Her baby, unrecognizable.)

Chay swallows nervously. “And, if you want to come sit with me, I’ll be right there. But if you don’t, that’s also okay.” He carefully folds her hands inside his own.

She can’t answer. But she can keep looking at him, and maybe he’ll think she can hear him.

Chay searches her face for any sign of understanding. He won’t find anything. (He can’t.) He slumps, disappointed, but the determination doesn’t leave his eyes.

“I’ll see you next week, Mae. I love you.” He rises to his feet, bends down to press a gentle kiss to her cheek. He smiles at her as he pulls away, waves before turning around.

Namphueng allows her gaze to follow him out. She keeps the rest of her face so, so still.

From behind her, Korn hums. “What a good son,” he says.

Namphueng empties her mind, blank as a sheet of fresh paper. She sees nothing, she hears nothing, she understands nothing. She unfolds her hands from her lap, reaches slowly for the paintbrush and turns back to the easel. She continues to layer color onto the canvas, black on black on black.

-

Namphueng has been endlessly dreaming. She can only tell because for the first time in years, she might finally be awake.

She thinks Korn has been drugging her. Well, no. She knows Korn has been drugging her. What she doesn’t know is whether he keeps her drugged to keep her healthy, or to keep her docile.

She doesn’t remember whether she’s sick or not. She should be more worried about the fact that she can’t remember, but she’s been sitting in that uncertainty for too long for it to matter anymore.

There is only one thing that matters, and that is this: everything Korn says could be a lie. It might be, it might not be. This is how it’s always been. And so, for her, everything in her small world is true and false, there and not there, real and unreal. It is paralyzing. Her paralysis keeps her safe. It is okay if she believes no truths, so long as she falls for no lies. She stands immobile, unalive and yet untouchable.

And then Porsche – her son, her dear son, who looks so beautiful and healthy and trapped just like her – crashes into her world. And suddenly, something here is real, and it is him. He brings Chay, her baby, and Chay is real too. Namphueng grips onto them tightly, for they are her anchor.

Her sons are the reason she is alive again, but she is the reason they have been dragged out to sea, and she wants nothing more than for them to be free.

The new thing that matters is this: she needs to remember why she is here.

-

Every Thursday, Chay comes to sit in her room. Every Thursday, she goes to sit with him.

The first few times, she can’t bring herself to do anything other than sit there and watch him. Chay doesn’t seem to mind. Chay smiles sweetly at her for doing nothing.

Later, she brings her sketching pad with her, sketches pages and pages of birds as Chay observes, fascinated. “Mae, you’re so good,” he says, sitting at her knee like he might have done as a child. “Hia always said. I used to look at your sketchbooks all the time, when I was little.”

Namphueng imagines herself smiling, gently patting at Chay’s hair.

“Do you think – do you have more sketchbooks now? Where do you keep your art?” Chay says. He doesn’t sound like he expects her to answer, but he does look around the room as if he might find a hint somewhere.

She doesn’t keep her art. Korn does.

Namphueng deftly adds more fluid lines to the paper, fleshes out a raised wing, smudges it a bit at the edges to give it an air of motion. Then she carefully grabs hold of the paper, slowly tears the page out of the sketchbook.

She looks at it for a moment. Then she hands it to Chay.

“For me?” he says, eyes delighted. He takes the page from her with something like reverence, smooths at the edges with his fingers. “Thank you, Mae.” He beams, dimples appearing at the corners of his mouth.

Namphueng looks down again, starts a fresh sketch.

Later, when Chay leaves, Namphueng watches as the guard stationed outside the door motions for the sketch Namphueng gave him, scrutinizes the front and the back, takes a picture of it before letting Chay have it back.

Namphueng lets the rage inside her swirl, for just a brief moment, before it settles.

-

She can’t figure out how Korn gets the drugs into her. Oh, there are the ones she gets handed to her in pill form, the ones she takes every day under a nurse’s watchful eye. But then there are the ones that are in her food. Or her water. Or the air. The ones that keep her head foggy, her thoughts trapped inside a bubble of haze.

She stopped eating once (maybe twice) to see if the haze would fade. Korn had her strapped to a table and intubated within days. “You need to eat, Namphueng,” he said softly, hovering above her.

She has a theory. Most days, Korn keeps her deaf and dumb, a pleasant crystal figurine in his collection. But she does feel the haze lift sometimes. And when this happens, Korn suddenly spends more time with her, invites her to indulge in a glass of bourbon or a game of chess.

She thinks that Korn doesn’t prefer the hollow shell he’s made her into. She thinks that he lightens up on the drugs occasionally to catch a glimpse of who she used to be, before sending her back down under again.

So the next time she finds herself playing chess with him, she reminds herself - no food, for the next few hours. No water, if she can help it. And then maybe she’ll have enough time with her own thoughts, the capacity to order them into something sharp she can remember once she eats again.

She lies on the couch afterwards, stares up at the dim ceiling. She doesn’t remember everything. But she prys at the tangle in her head, pushes through to search for a way forwards.

-

Every Wednesday, she starts working on a miniature. A tiny bird, perched on a branch, sat on a windowsill, pecking at the ground. Black on white only, harsh lines flicking to the edges of the tiny square of paper.

She finishes one every Thursday, and then she gives it to Chay.

Chay always takes them with the most beautiful smile, tucks them away inside his school books. “I’m going to put them up on the wall in my room,” he says. “Just line them up, and then I can look at them every morning.”

Sometimes, on Thursdays, Porsche comes too. The first time he sees her hand one of the birds to Chay, he yelps in mock-offense, smacks at Chay’s shoulder. “Have you been getting one every week? And you didn’t tell me to come?”

Chay raises an eyebrow at him. “Hia, but you’re busy,” he says.

Porsche’s face crumples, just a bit. “I wish I weren’t,” he says. “I want to be here every time.”

Chay reaches over, hugs Porsche to his side. “I know. It’s okay.”

Namphueng is endlessly glad that they had each other. That they weathered the storm together, came out of it intact. It kills her to know that they had to do so without her.

Or without Pat.

She shoves that thought down immediately. It’s worthless now.

“Mae,” Porsche says, pouts. “Can I have one?”

Of course, Namphueng thinks. She draws up a brilliant bird of red and orange, fire and flame. Of course he can have one. Everything she does now is for them.

-

One evening, Chay groggily takes the miniature from her before plopping down on the couch. “Mae,” he says through a yawn, “I’m sorry. I might nap, if that’s okay. I didn’t sleep that well last night.”

Namphueng watches as Chay curls up on the couch, pillow shoved awkwardly under his neck as he dozes off. She waits for him to fall into an uneasy sleep before she fetches a throw blanket for him, tucks it gently under his chin. Then she sinks to the floor between the couch and the table, knees folded to her chest, eyes fixed on Chay’s peaceful face.

Porsche finds them there like that, some time later. He sits down cross-legged on the floor next to her, leans in to press a feather-light kiss against Chay’s forehead, and then takes her hand and puts a second kiss there.

“It’s so good to see you together,” he says in a whisper. “I wish we could have had this all along.”

Porsche often talks to Namphueng as if she’s dead, as if he’s sitting at her gravestone and telling her all the things he never got to say to her. As if she’s not really there. She supposes it’s hard for him – harder than for Chay, for whom she is essentially a new person. And sometimes it’s hard for her to listen to him speak this way. (It’s a reminder that she isn’t really there, after all.) But it also makes it easier for her to say nothing.

“When things get better,” he says, eyes boring into hers, “I’ll have more power. And then I’m going to get you out of here, and we can all live together like we were supposed to.” He looks down at their clasped hands. “I’m going to make it happen.”

She adores him so fiercely, she almost can’t breathe with the intensity of it. He is so loving at his core, so willing to walk through fire for her. He doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into. It will be so much more difficult than it should be. (Korn has to die. Korn has to die.)

It also tells her that, of her two sons, she’s chosen correctly. Porsche is too naive, too free with his words. She prays that Chay will have more restraint.

Porsche puts his head down next to Chay, sighs wearily as he closes his eyes.

She commits the image of the two of them to her memory, heads bent together in sleep. Her family, small and worn. This is what will keep her going.

-

Namphueng sets out an array of supplies on the table in front of Chay, picks up the paint with a brush and swishes out a black flower with a few quick strokes, blowing at it gently to let it dry. Then she picks up a new brush, dips it in the water and swirls it in her palette, coats the hairs in black watercolor pigment - and with sharp flicks of her hand, covers the entire flower up in a mass of black.

Chay peeks over, curious. “What are you doing?” he asks.

Namphueng stares at the paper, waiting for the water on the paper to pool and settle. Then she picks up a cloth and dabs at the painting, lets the cloth soak up the water and the pigment, revealing the flower in stark contrast under the lighter burst of gray left behind from the watercolor.

“Woah,” Chay says.

Namphueng looks at him, continues to look at him until he meets her eyes. My child, she thinks to herself. Do you understand?

Chay looks back, surprised. She doesn’t normally make eye contact with him, so he’s not used to it. But he holds it, doesn’t nod his head or tilt it in confusion or say anything. She can see him thinking – and then he looks away, absently starts on his homework again.

When he leaves, Namphueng gives him the picture of the flower, slightly warped from the water. She breathes out softly, shakily, as she watches the guard take a picture of it. She wills her heartbeat to slow. What’s done is done.

She’s taken the first step. She hopes desperately that it will pay off.

-

(Chay walks back to his room at a normal pace, shuts the door softly behind him and sits down heavily on his bed. Looks at the row of birds on his wall, carefully pinned up in order along a taut string, dimly lit by the sole lamp in the room.

He goes to the bathroom, picking up a paper towel and dampening it, then returns to stand in front of the birds. He plucks the first one off of the line, tells himself that it’s ok if he ruins this one, if this is a useless endeavor. Mae gave him so many more, after all.

Before he can second-guess himself, he puts the miniature down on the table, presses the towel over it for a long moment, then lifts it. He watches the pigment bleed away, revealing a different, darker paint underneath.

Rapidly, he pulls down the rest of the miniatures, taking care to maintain their order. He runs to the bathroom to get more fresh paper towels and a cup full of water. He continues to press them, starts to dry the ones that he’s already pressed, too scared that the inner paint will start bleeding too.

Once he’s done, he thuds down on his desk chair, staring at the miniatures in front of him. The horror settles over him, makes his heart thud in his ears and the edges of his vision blur and darken. His mind is whirring.

Mae is… Mae is awake. Mae can hear them. Mae is trying to talk to them.

The miniatures spell out a message.

IF I SPEAK

I DIE.)

-

day 1 - day 2 - day 3 - day 4 - day 5 - day 6 - day 7

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When this is over | Original fiction

Note: Based on the current @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt, lights and sirens. The context for this one is, perhaps, very silly. I've started watching Formula 1 in August. Just like with everything else that I watch, be it a piece of media or a sport, my thoughts immediately veered towards how can I create a novel(la) within this universe. Car racing doesn't lend itself well to novel writing, though, (no way to capture speed on paper) and I doubt Netflix will hire me as a script writer for a tv show any time soon. But nothing stops me from creating a bunch of characters and writing heartfelt conversations between them. So, the people in this little piece: Martin and Matthew are two F1 drivers racing for the same team. Pauline is a sports photographer, Martin's girlfriend and the same age as him. Natalia is a supermodel, Matthew's girlfriend and a decade younger than him. The four of them go on holiday together and the two women share a moment while alone at sea.

⁘⁘⁘

Natalia swims in the sea. Pauline, perched on a rock, watches her glide in and out of the moonlight. Only the disturbance in the glasslike surface of the water betrays the presence of a body. Martin and Matthew are still on the boat moored to this small piece of earth that barely classifies as an island. There is no one else around for kilometers.

The deck sports colorful fairy lights and big headlights to keep watch over the swimmers. Natalia emerges from the water, her perfect profile backlit by the moon. She waves at Pauline, who has never learned how to swim properly. This close to the water she’s wearing boots and a loosely knitted jumper over her swimsuit.

The stillness of the night is punctuated by the laughter coming from the boat. Matthew is adamant to make a chess player out of Martin by the end of the trip. There’s a gin bottle on the table and it keeps track of time like an hourglass of old.

Natalia swims back to shore and grabs hold of the rock Pauline is sitting on. Her beauty is unreal.

“Come in!” Natalia says.

Pauline feels the pull of the water. There is a freedom here that cannot be captured anywhere else on planet Earth. But she can’t. The sea is a cruel mistress. She doesn’t want to be a sad story in the news.

“I can’t swim,” she says. “Sorry! I grew up smack in the middle of Germany. I was never much of a fan of the seaside.”

Natalia lowers herself under the water. The noise is extinguished from the world and she savors this moment, when it’s just her, a body held in perfect equilibrium within the universe. She comes back up when her lungs demand breath and sits down next to Pauline.

In the world of light, Martin yells fuck you, man and Matthew laughs.

“Do you ever think about the end?” Pauline asks.

“Of the world?” Natalia answers.

“Of this.”

Natalia looks up. She can hear the faint sound of Matthew explaining some chess move.

“No. I don’t think about the future. You can’t do that in my line of work, or you wouldn’t be able to enjoy any of it. I want to enjoy it.”

Pauline falls silent. Natalia is a supermodel. Her body is regarded as piece of art as much as the clothes they adorn it with. Its value is not timeless. It makes Pauline sad.

“Do you love Matthew?”

Natalia turns to look at her. There is an air of maturity about her that wasn’t there a moment ago.  

“What is love? He laughs at my jokes. Not many men pay attention at how funny I am, they just laugh at my accent. But he laughs at my jokes. I think he’s funny too. He’s nice to me. He listens to me. He cares about what I say. I feel safe with him. Maybe I do love him a little.” She looks wistfully at the moon. “We’re young, and he’s beautiful, and a good kisser, and the sunsets in Monte Carlo take my breath away. The present is the only thing that’s real, the only thing I care about.”

Natalia is sitting so close now; she smells like the sea. Pauline knows she herself smells a little like cigarettes, a little like alcohol, a little like Martin’s cologne. Natalia is looking straight into her eyes; fairy lights dance around her dark irises.

“When this is over, I’d like to see to you again. I’d like to go on a trip like this with you, just the two of us.”

Pauline can’t help her smile. She closes her eyes to hide a certain sadness she knows is there. Her thoughts circle around soft hands, lipstick stains on her neck, champagne and solitary islands in the Mediterranean Sea, away from the judgment of men. Nothing about this night feels real. This sentiment is not uncommon to her. Sometimes, when she watches the race, the number next to the unit of measurement for speed doesn’t feel real either. Neither does the champagne out of those oversized bottles, neither the fireworks over a track in a country where women aren’t allowed to drive. Sometimes, although it pains her to admit, the light coming through the white silk curtains in Martin’s Monaco apartment feels like the light on a movie set.

The rock feels sturdy under her. She presses her open palm hard against it for stability. A breeze passes over her body, like the breath of a sleeping giant. All of it is real, all of it. Reality all the way down.

“Yes, I'd like that,” she says.

The fairy lights from the boat chase each other around the trail of moonlight. Natalia’s head finds Pauline’s shoulder. Pauline squeezes Natalia's hand, warm fingers closing around a cold palm. It’s nothing and everything at the same time.