Oh Lord, return me to dust ✦
Jules of Nature
$LAYYYTER
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
styofa doing anything
Mike Driver
Not today Justin
RMH
Today's Document
i don't do bad sauce passes
wallacepolsom
will byers stan first human second
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
trying on a metaphor
AnasAbdin
Keni

Product Placement

shark vs the universe
Peter Solarz
seen from United States
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@dovexii
Oh Lord, return me to dust ✦
Editorial illustrations for a conference discussing AI’s impact on communities.
Sainte Esconde des Mystères, une confidence pour une prière
Sainte Esconde des Secrets, montre moi ce qui est caché
My comic La Langue des Vipères was released this week in bookstores in France, Belgium and Switzerland !
This beautiful trailer was created by my friends at Potto Collective : @lholmesharfang , Luc Armanet, @noctambuleur , @estellito , @nomnomsandwich , @shliten, Matthieu Chavane and Fanou Lefebvre
puffy feathers means they like you
Micah sits in silence on the bench facing the airlock as he works to untie the knot lodged in his throat. The dreaded time had finally arrived, the one that strained his anxiety every six months like nauseating clockwork--
ship maintenance day.
In his mind, he could picture his bioshifter crewmate doing cartwheels (of the closest approximation to joy he was capable of) in the definitively joyless void of space merely six feet before him.
The image would be amusing if he didn't also have to be out there.
It wasn't as though he disliked space-- it was quite the opposite. Finding pockets of stunning nebulae on their travels and exchanging locations of rare cosmic events with strangers in passing were high up on reasons space-faring was the life for him. He even kept a bucket-list of once-in-a-lifetime astral phenomena he'd love to one day observe and shared it eagerly with anyone who would listen. No, it was simply the practice of being submerged in it, hopelessly ungrounded in all orbital planes of direction, protected by nothing but a few layers of thin insulation and cheap synthetic polymers... And, of course, not helped that today specifically required the lugging of sharp, cumbersome tools across a complex mass of machinery that had no business being accessed by one so inexperienced in the field. But four (five?) hands were better than two, even if those two were damp and graceless.
Gently stroking the helmet by his hip, he breathes out the last reserve of whatever remaining whisper could convince him to stay before launching to his feet and tightening the straps below the metal-rimmed collar of his navy suit. The quicker we get out there, the quicker it gets done, he repeats in thought while donning shock-resistant gloves. He fidgets with the worn cuff edges that barely exposed its thin microfiber lining, distantly wondering if that could be the reason amongst a thousand and one that finally does him in, like a broken seal, like a loose grip, like a hurtling meteoroid-- -- but before he devolves, Micah is shocked to attention by an impatient rapping on the airlock glass, followed by a muffled voice projected from his helmet comms, "Hey, don't have any sense of urgency while you're in there, yeah?"
"Y-yeah, sorry, I'm... I'm..." Micah stutters while making check-pats all over his suit, trailing off after realizing he's still wearing dog tags. With a frazzled motion, he yanks them over his head to shove in the holding compartment before finalizing his safety inspection with the helmet, sliding it into the collar with a satisfying click, "...coming."
today, we celebrate a silly lil guy <3
I think a lot of writers might benefit from giving themselves permission to get weird with format.
Use second person, drop classic rising action and climax format, write backwards, just sit in a moment, tell all you want and refuse to show, make an entire book that’s just one run on sentence, reject tropes, use all tropes, cliche yourself to death, produce something that’s completely gibberish. Break all the rules of marketability. Become ungovernable.
Write a story that just takes place inside one pathetic little person’s head. Do it. It’s enrichment in your enclosure.
Do the writer’s equivalent of playing with finger paints. Do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it
It’s the middle of the night and I should be sleeping but listen. Listen. Just get weird with it. Open your soul up a little bit. Like actually don’t worry about it being palatable. I’m serious. Get weirder. Get weirder right now. I’m demanding that you get weirder right now. It’s not your responsibility to make your reader feel good. It’s your job to make art, goddamnit. Make art. Make weird art. Open up your third eye and eat an entire cheesecake.
forgive me father for i am going to sin
Lorelei ✦ Fifth Seer of Dominion
sometimes i wonder if we have forgotten that sharing creative work is, fundamentally, a bid for human connection. like I'm not posting art or fic for 'engagement' i'm posting it looking for other sickos to play with! i'd be making it anyway for my own gratification because there's something wrong with me, i'm sharing it hoping we can have something wrong with us together <3
In the throes of reworking sizeable swaths of my main wip, and it's driving me up a wall because I'm having to recontextualize a god-like being, Ru'uah's, motives and... involvement with the main character, Eden. It is almost ridiculous how much bandwidth this relationship has taken these last couple of weeks!!
Unfortunately, my goldfish memory swallowed what I remembered to be "ah-ha!" moments in the 5.7 seconds it takes to open my phone's Notes app and click the appropriate folder, so there's some nuance and metaphor that was lost to time that I'm pretty bummed about BUUUT exciting development times for a previously very one-dimensional character.
Seemingly uncharacteristic sacrifices for a benevolent, "holy" being that were made before Eden's birth now become a surprise reoccurring theme! I shouldn't speak too much on her motives, but hmm. she sure would think it cool and good to eat him :)
Influence
wyd when you see this? (the very next compulsion you feel in your mind)
✶ ✷ ✶
a red string of fate can be a leash. if you're enlightened
Some other life — detail from 'Thicket'
End of a season, wind from the west
Prints here! :)
If you’re interested in a commission, feel free to email [email protected] <3