#work from home 2024

[eloise1111]

Work From Home

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[sailorgrey41]

Work From Home USA

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[marley369852147]

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[avani111111111]

Work From Home USA

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[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Learning to celebrate the little wins!

[headslikekites]

paintober day 10

enjoying balloon smp so far. welcome back @sophiebaybey

[aprito]

sos month day 26: undercover / arranged marriage

based off of the tv show the americans which you should all watch btw

[0m3n-0f-d3ath]

Otto in a pink sweater

100% doesn’t correlate to what I wore a couple of days ago

[kmesons]

@pulpmusicalsfortnight2024 day nine: home

[srldesigns6277]

Louis backstage (and shirtless) at Away From Home Festival 2024

[lapinposts]

wip sharing >:)

[pigeonneaux]

Mormaid fil

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Books of 2024: ALWAYS COMING HOME by Ursula K. Le Guin.

The people have Spoken, so I'll be reading this 618-page brick next! The cover page credits the author, an artist, a composer, a geomancer (??), and the author of the intro, so. I suspect I'm in for a Ride™. I am both Excited and Intimidated--will report back on how this goes!

[smeg-and-the-red]

Smegtober Day 13: Dreams

(prompts by @strange-and-off-putting)

word count: 259

A/N: This is set prior to the boys meeting Kryten for the first time.

Kryten lets out a mechanical sigh as he takes a seat at his docking station. Having dutifully attended to Ms Yvette and the others and seeing them off to bed, he is finally ready to power down for the night. He plugs himself in and lets his eyes fall shut.

At first, there is nothing. It is quiet and very peaceful. Then, very slowly, the inky blackness begins to melt away. Kryten allows his eyes to adjust.

He's in his garden. The grass has grown since he was last here, and frost crunches under his feet as he walks. He steps carefully towards his flowerbeds. He had planted bulbs and seeds, and he's anxious that the cold could have killed them while he was away.

He is met with the sight of tiny green shoots. He smiles in relief, crouching down to brush the frost away. He ensures that each is alive and alright before moving on to the next.

When he is finished, he stands back up, wiping the soil from his hands in his gardening apron as he admires his work. Yes, he thinks, by summertime, it will be simply splendid.

He pauses, his eye caught by something hidden away in the corner. As he approaches, he sees that it is a lone snowdrop. The first flower to bloom in his garden. He bends down and gently touches one of the pearly white petals.

Kryten made this grow. With gentle care and patience, he'd worked, and he hopes that this flower will be the first of many.

[pinkusmaximus]

it has not fully sunk in that i own her yet

[aerialsquid]

FFXIV Write 2024 Day 17: Sally

(Continuation of this scene.)

Author Note: This fragment has a content warning for nonconsensual aether feeding that might tangentially resemble an assault. Idk how to tag this besides 'fantastical violation metaphorically resembling real world ones' but like. Make your reading choices accordingly.

--------

It didn't hurt, was the problem. Even with his chronic anxiety Martyn took far too long to realize something had gone terribly wrong. Dollmaker had put the weird mouth embedded halfway down its neck on Martyn before, after all. No reason to not assume this was more of its wet kisses. Whatever strange stilling of the aether that Dollmaker did to disassemble and reassemble its dolls meant there was no pain when the teeth sank into Martyn's shoulder and the vast, dark maw began to feed. 

There was an odd tugging, a sense of dizziness, a feeling of cold creeping along his arm and then a feeling of emptiness that even someone who'd touched every magical discipline Eorzea would allow had no vocabulary to describe - not just emptiness, but an active, sucking void, a whirlpool that he was being pulled into.

His weary mind frantically battered the pieces of his thoughts together with the strange sensation until finally, by a mercy, the answer snapped into place.

The voidsent was devouring his aether, bite by slow bite.

This wasn't – I didn't agree to this, stop this–

"My doll, precious doll, sweet doll," Dollmaker moaned. "And how delicious your essence. Sweet and potent, fluttering with purest life. Just a taste, doll, just a taste, you owe me that much, you owe me…"

The oddly comforting locks around his limbs now revealed themselves for the chains they had always been. Martyn couldn't move, couldn't scream as the teeth dug into his flesh. The massive tongue laved at his arm, drawing his essence in deeper down the voidsent's throat.

Nonononono

His cane was across the room, as useless as if it were in remote Thavnair. Nothing to channel with. No focus. Incredibly unsafe, incredibly ineffective, but good gods he couldn't even cry for help. With that monstrous mouth across his vision, all Martyn could think of was the rotting undead goobue wandering the ruins of Amdapor, its hunger so vast that its own stomach had opened a maw of its own. The Gourmand, they'd called it. 

Spectral teeth bared in the dim light of the tunnel and snapped down on Dollmaker's gluttonous neck. The monster jerked, body wriggling at the impact. "What is this? What–" It slapped the teeth away. The slow drawing in of aether continued, but it had broken Dollmaker's focus just long enough.

By force Martyn ordered his body to flinch away, his neck to turn inch by agonizing inch. He pulled in what precious aether Dollmaker hadn't already devoured, coiling it, sharpening it.

Don't touch me don't touch me you can't touch me

Protection to harm his enemies, to make any hand that touched him suffer. The sharp edges of a thousand sabotender needles exploded from Martyn's body. Dollmaker screeched, dropping Martyn's body from its arms as it clawed at the tiny spines embedded in its dark flesh. Another burst and spikes of ice slammed into its mask, leaving a crack along it. Glowing blue seeped through the crack and the eyeholes of the mask, shimmering in tune with the rising rage in its voice.

"Fiend, how dare–how–!"

Later, Martyn would realize the moment the rage turned to horror and regret in the voidsent's glowing gaze. Right now, he just wanted the vile thing to burn. 

Martyn shook himself, rolling up to curl on his side. His clumsy arms folded around himself, a protective gesture for the blue mage's last resort. When you couldn't win a fight, you made it a draw. Fire aether channeled between his palms. The dripping voidsent reached out for him again, its voice high and piteous.

"Wait–doll, please, Martyn–"

There was the reek of sulfur, the crack and roar of flame, and then nothing at all.

--------

Credited as the source of the “bomb” voidsent family's name, Self-destruct, when used by blue mages, converts the entirety of its caster's energy into fire-aspected aether to cause an explosion. The application of oil has been observed to make it more effective─though likely also more painful.