Spot the difference (HARD)
Buran Orbiter
Okay and the left one?
styofa doing anything

Love Begins
Jules of Nature
Game of Thrones Daily
todays bird

if i look back, i am lost

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

tannertan36
will byers stan first human second
KIROKAZE

Origami Around
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

JBB: An Artblog!
hello vonnie
Keni

No title available
No title available

No title available

#extradirty
Peter Solarz

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Russia

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Türkiye

seen from Brazil
seen from United States

seen from Türkiye
seen from United States

seen from Mexico
seen from South Africa

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from T1

seen from United States

seen from T1

seen from T1

seen from Malaysia
@mutiny-rp
Spot the difference (HARD)
Buran Orbiter
Okay and the left one?
medical tags
⠀𔓕 ⠀﹒⠀Zombie apocalypse pngs𓈒
⠀⠀⠀Requested by ...⠀@luvariofan⠀⠀⠀ 𓎟𓎟
It's good and cool to give your characters a single simple, straightforward, non-urgent, super-achievable goal that shouldn't really cost anything or hurt anyone, make that the driving factor for most of their decisions, and then have the Plot do everything in its power to stop them.
Goals include but are not limited to:
Wanting to go home
Wanting people out of your house who shouldn't be there
Trying to find a reliable babysitter
Trying to deliver a letter or package
Trying to do a favor for someone
Wanting to see a specific thing, place, or kind of animal
Wanting to collect the money somebody owes you (the lower the debt the better)
Trying to win a bet
Wanting to punch a specific person in the face
Goddddddd thinking about that narrative moment when something horrible is happening and the character who has been frantically trying to come up with a way to fix it and getting more and more frantic and panicky just—stops. Because. Oh. There’s the solution. They’re not getting out of this alive but like. It’s a solution for everyone else. Okay. Okay.
Why would you do this to me.
and!!!! like!!!! obviously this is delicious when you hit your Self Sacrifice Archetype with it, but honestly I think it's even chewier when you give it to, like. someone with a selfish streak. The one with some arrogance who's maybe not quite a team player. leans more towards loner. Give this moment to the one party member who has been shown to prioritize their own survival over everything else.
And then the eye-of-the-storm realization of "Oh. Huh. I am not making it to the end of the story. but everyone else is going to. Isn't it strange, that I'm not more upset?"
i’m dropping more Rhiannon and Keilan into your inbox because i love you so so much for loving Her
LORE BOMB WOOOOOOOO THE CROWD GOES WILD
putting her on the roof of a tall building in the rain, stat. just cause.
when ur talking abt headcanons w/ ur friend and they start typing for a really long time
[image description: stock photo of a person reclining on a sofa anf eating a movie theater style bucket of popcorn]
regarding rhiannon part 1
kind of obsessed with this comment from the aoteaora nz subreddit….
How to plan a long-term creative project for serial publication:
1. Make a firm decision about how big a single update is going to be, and estimate your sustainable update frequency based on that. This estimate should be based solely on your own demonstrated performance; you may anticipate that future productivity will exceed past productivity, but never make long-range plans on the assumption that future productivity will exceed past productivity. That is called the Planning Fallacy, and it will eat you alive.
2. Estimate how often you’re likely to miss updates. As a rough guideline, if you’re physically and mentally healthy and have no major commitments that would interfere with your ability to work on the project, figure that you’ll miss about 10% of your updates for various reasons. If you have health issues or frequent Real Life commitments, make it 20%. If 20% sounds low to you, you weren’t being honest with yourself about your sustainable update frequency; return to step 1 and re-assess.
3. Figure that you’ve got about two years before you lose interest in the project, gain some new commitment that will preclude continuing to work on it, or your art style evolves enough to make creative continuity impractical. If there’s some upcoming major life change that you’re able to anticipate – like, say, graduating from school – use either two years or that event as your soft deadline, whichever is less.
4. Use the figures from steps 1-3 to estimate how many updates you’re likely to be able to squeeze into this project, and write your outline/script based on that. You don’t need to wrap up every tiny little loose thread by that point, but ideally it needs to reach a point where you could stop and be satisfied with whatever conclusion has been reached. If you get there and you’re still enthusiastic about continuing, fantastic – return to step 1 and re-assess.
So, as a simple example: if you’re planning a webcomic, you figure you can reasonably manage about 1 page a week, and you’ve got a lot going on that’s likely to get in your way, that’s (2 years * 52 weeks/year * 1 update/week * 80% success rate on updates) = around 83 pages to work with, or about the length of a four-issue miniseries. What kind of story can you tell in 80-odd pages?
(Hint: it’s not a story that involves fifty-page combat scenes!)
This is all good and the only thing I’d like to add is that you should try to build up a backlog of as much finished material as you can. If you’re updating once a week and you’ve got ten chapters of your novel/webcomic pages/whatever ready to go, you’ve bought yourself a little over two months of leeway for life stuff/logistical plot problems/writer’s block/etc. Do not release work as you finish it, this is a recipe for hurting yourself.
You have control over your update frequency. Two updates a week is twice as much work as one update a week, which is twice as much work as one update every other week. Don’t kill yourself!
i <3 you blunt instruments who use their bludgeoning strength to be kind and protective i <3 you imprecise but meaningful forces
i <3 you people who know their power lies not in their words but in their gestures; who say "stay behind me, i'll handle this" and step up again and again in an attempt to soften the blow before it reaches anyone else; who bulldoze through both physical obstructions and emotional facades ruthlessly in order to get to the ones they love; who tear the things hurting the people they care about out of their hands and crush them beneath the contempt of their heel - and who fail to realise until it's already too late that the greatest danger posed by any oncoming threat isn't the thing itself, but the indiscriminate spray of shrapnel released by its destruction. and i'm sorry.
i think its so awesome that ocs exist. u can just make up some girl and put so many problems in her head
The stages of bruise healing
The distant rattling within the small tunnel was like the chattering of milkteeth, the cold, shaky breath of small lungs reached their ears, until Rhiannon listened closer. She saw the thing hunched in the corner, shivering but not flinching or running, as if it were glued to the side of the graffiti-ed wall. She has a tight grip on the edge of the wall, the mouth of the tunnel as she leans further in to look closer. Its lit from the back, the blinding white light reflecting off the puddles on the concrete floor
“...Hello?”
The thing grumbles, its eyes shining wetly. Then, it opens what seems to be its mouth and lets out a howl. Pained, awful sounds like a foghorn got torn up on the inside spill from its lips. It keeps roaring, and roaring, and her hands fly up to her ears and she turns to Keilan, who’s gripping his gun like a madman who doesn’t realise that shellshock is settling in.
“SHOOT AT IT!” she screams, but he doesn’t move, and she looks back and the thing has grown in size, stuck even further up the wall but starting to tear itself away, like gum off a shoe.
A split second decision runs through her mind and her hands are moving towards Keilan. She rips the gun away from his hands and pulls it over her shoulder, flicking what she assumes is the safety off, she feels around for the metal stick and shifts it around until it locks into place like she’s seen Keilan do.
Rhiannon whips around for one last cry for help as the thing wails again, but Keilan hasn’t budged, his hands are still holding an invisible gun. It’s up to her to shoot it. Shaking, always shaking, she raises the heavy thing and aims as best as she can, around where the glare of the water is the least bright, and pulls the trigger. But there’s no big bang. No smoking barrel. It didn’t go off. ...Fuck.
She tosses it down and runs forward in a last ditch effort – knife in hand – straight for the gooey, sobbing mess that sits almost twice her height in the corner of the tunnel. Plunges her knife into its belly until something liquid spills out. It’s hot, it steams, it burns her, it’s not blood but it should be, by the way it screams like a little kid. It locks eyes with her and cries. For a moment she stops, mid-slash into its neck region and she remembers to breathe in.
The thing finally locks up into an agonised pose of its last moments as a human, and it dies.
The hand holding the knife falls to her side and she looks down at the fatty mess on the ground. It’s slipped off the wall into a pile, sloshing in the wind with the water around it.
How Far From London Can You Get By Train In 12 Hours
Slime mold looking for more nutrients
Slime mold escaping London in 12 hours