Internet Parents FOREVAAAAAAAAAA

Humans are weird

What if aliens don't have pets? Like keeping animals as friends is just completely foreign to them

Alien: So you're telling me… That you took a predator from your forests, saw that it was fluffy…. And kept it?

Human, petting a dog: he also gets really happy when you pet his stomach!

Alien, bending down to cautiously pet the dog:……

Alien: I would die for you.

Every time I start to feel like my art isn't improving, I try redrawing old art and that usually makes me feel better This is like one of my very first Ocs that I made when I was 8 and drew like every day. Her name was Milly but I'm changing it to either Maeve or Meadow

Vampire villain biting hero without being aware of it because of how hungry they were. Hero starts having a painful transformation and villain didn't notice until they meet with hero again??

I just really liked the idea and i love your writing.

tw: blood

“Hero.”

The villain frowned, their eyes narrowing at the sight of their nemesis doubling over, clutching their stomach. They sucked in a painful gasp of air, before gritting their teeth, and clumsily straightening up.

“Fight me,” they demanded, their voice hoarse. “I’m fine.”

The villain hummed under their breath, hardly threatened by them. They easily noticed the painful pinpricks on the side of their neck, their memories resurfacing uneasily. Villain remembered that in their bloodlust, they’d fed on the hero, despite their unwillingness.

They had been so out of control and they knew it had shaken the hero up badly. It had been so long since that night, but Villain could sense something wrong with them.

And it wasn’t because they were scared.

The air around them smelled different, and the villain prowled closer, curiousity calling them. “Look at you. You can hardly keep yourself up. What’s wrong?”

The hero looked furious, their expression twisting into a grimace, before a loud groan tore from their throat. They quickly collapsed onto their knees, just barely caught by the villain’s awaiting arms.

“Fuck you,” they gasped angrily, whining in pain as they curled in on themselves, clutching their stomach desperately. “You...did something to me. Fuck, it hurts, Villain. Everything hurts.”

The vampire’s eyes widened in recognition. “That’s why your scent is different.” They murmured, clutching gently onto the hero. They seemed hypersensitive to their touch, shivering if they pressed too hard. “You’re turning.”

“Turning?” The hero growled out, before they dissolved into trembling cries, pinching their eyes shut. “Too bright, too bright. It hurts.”

Villain guided them to the shadows, letting them rest on the floor. The hero whined when Villain pulled away, and they pressed a hand to their forehead, feeling how burning hot and clammy the skin was.

“Why didn’t you come to me?” The villain chastised, frown on their brows. Hero bit back another insult while they were verging on another painful wave of nausea.

“I don’t like you,” they grumbled, shuddering at the pain. “You did this! You did it on purpose...”

The villain knew it was useless to tell them they hadn’t meant to. They cut open a small vein on their wrist, placing a hand on the back of Hero’s head.

“Here, drink this,” they ordered quietly, knowing the hero’s senses would be heightened to an unhealthy amount. They tried to jerk away, shaking their head.

“I’m not drinking that. I’m not like you.”

Villain sighed. “It will speed up the process. And make it a little less painful.”

“I don’t want to speed it up,” Hero snapped, gasping at another zap of pain up their spine. “I don’t want to be like you...”

Villain shook their head, and pushed their wrist against the hero’s mouth. Defiance sparked in their pain filled eyes, but they quickly succumbed to the taste on their tongue, sucking desperately at the blood. Villain stroked the back of their head, supporting them, before moving away.

Hero released a trembling sigh, unwilling to fight as the villain helped them onto their feet.

“Let’s go someplace better, all right?” They whispered.

The hero didn’t argue this time.

I really do love how it came out though

the amount of pain I went through for just these two seconds

I forgot how annoying hand drawing animating is

i absolutely ADORE ur Tim and Cassandra art

Oh thank you so much! Have some really rough sketches of them for your enjoyment <3

Humans are weird

Sleep. Sleep is honestly so strange. Sometimes I go to bed at a reasonable time, like 11pm. But then there are other times where I got to bed at 5am. Why do we do this? The struggles most of us have with sleep is unreal. But then even if I try to go to sleep I'm left with my thoughts, and I don't know if that's worse.

Alien: Human Kevin, you told me a human needs 8 hours of sleep a night.

Human: I'm aware

Alien: So why haven't you moved in 24 hours?

Human, drinking it's 15th cup of coffee: next question-

The design of the I

cyberknife

I forget to post my art here all the time

But like

Undertale, how could I not?? I'm just casually drawing the au 8 year old me came up with

Must Be Something In The Water - Smile 2 Alternate Ending/Continuation

Chapter 1

The screams were deafening. Loud enough to drown out the blaring ringing feedback from the microphone.

The very same microphone that was now grotesquely smashed into Skye Riley’s face, the entire right half covered in blood and other unidentifiable flesh.

As the puddle of blood continued to grow around the now completely still pop star, the entire crowd abruptly surged backwards, as if just beginning to come out of a trance.

And then the true panic began.

It was a free for all, and every single person in the auditorium was scrambling, dashing, and dragging their ways past each other and through the sea of terrified concert goers in an attempt to escape the horrifying scene that had played out before them.

Not everyone was darting for the exits, however. There were still several people (whether it be the morbidly curious, or the devastated family and friends of Skye) that had stayed behind and were now instead rushing towards the stage towards the dead pop singer.

Elizabeth rushed forwards, her daughter’s name in her mouth as she screamed, immediately hopping over the small divider fence and immediately moving to climb up onto the stage where her child had been standing only moments ago. Back when all of her blood was still inside her body.

Elizabeth tore through the small crowd of security guards, police officers, a few concerned concert goers, backup dancers and a few friends of Skye’s.

“Move!!! Jesus MOVE!!” She screamed at them, her voice breaking as she approached her daughter’s still form.

Finally, after what felt like ages, the crowd parted enough that Elizabeth could rush through, and was immediately taken aback once she reached her.

Skye’s face (smeared with still-warm blood) was drawn in a tight smile, her one remaining eye completely empty.

Elizabeth froze, feeling as though her heart had just been shattered, ripped apart into tiny pieces, and she felt her breath catch in her throat.

Before she could stop herself, she keeled over and vomited on the now bloodstained stage.

A strong, tough figure rushed to her side, kneeling beside her as the crowd closed once again, pushing Elizabeth to the outskirts. Several people were frantically calling 911, requesting for aid and medical attention.

Elizabeth knew better.

Her daughter, no matter how much she wanted her to be alive, was not there anymore.

She gagged again, and she felt a hand lightly touch her back, before a pair of arms tugged her to her feet and embraced her.

When had she started crying? She found she couldn’t tell.

And who was screaming like that?? Oh wait. That was also her.

Her hands found their way around the strong figure’s torso, hands latching onto the back of their shirt and squeezing.

The night moved like a blur.

One moment, there was a crowd on the stage, and she was in the middle of it, then she was sprinting out after a group of paramedics who were frantically trying to pack Skye’s wounds, injecting her with adrenaline, and performing CPR on her body. Elizabeth knew that it was a futile and hopeless attempt. Skye was gone, and she found that she could quite literally not process that thought.

The last thing she had said to her daughter was encouragement to smile. To get out there on the stage and have fun, relax, perform. Sing her heart out, and dance, and enjoy her life and her success.

A sudden realization dawned on Elizabeth as she was frantically climbing into the passenger seat of the escort vehicle.

Skye had begged her to not have to perform.

She had said she wasn’t ready. That she was scared and that she felt like she was going crazy.

And how did she react??

She had called her daughter a selfish spoiled brat.

Her heart twisted painfully in her chest, another gut wrenching sob tearing its way from her throat as the van pulled away, quickly moving to catch up to the ambulance that carried her daughter.

“The sirens are still on,” the driver was saying in a panicked voice. “They only keep the lights and sirens on if there is a chance at survival. If they had declared her dead, the sirens would be off.”

“My baby…” she found herself sobbing, leaning into the arms of that same strong figure that she had held her moments ago on the stage. “My beautiful girl…” Glancing up with watery tear filled eyes, she found that it was Darius who was embracing her still.

She couldn’t make herself care enough to stop crying.

——•——-

A few yards away, within the ambulance that was still barreling its way through traffic on the way to the hospital, was a group of paramedics, all frantically trying to regain a pulse within the now flatlining pop star.

The woman on the table was small, much shorter than most, and inherently beautiful. All of them could see and knew it, but there was just something… off. About the way her face looked. Something about that horrible smile that had been stuck to the star’s face since she had struck herself with the microphone.

One paramedic clipped open the girl’s outfit, exposing the upper half of her chest. Another two were carefully and delicately removing the microphone from her face, and then trying to pack the wound full of antiseptic and gauze.

The third was preparing the defibrillators to shock life back into the lifeless girl.

“Hands off, everyone back!!!” The paramedic yelled, and immediately, everyone stepped away from her. “Clear!” He shouted, pressing the machines against her chest and causing her entire body to jolt with the electrical current. The flatline tone continued.

Everyone held their breath. This was it. If she didn’t regain a heartbeat after the third shock to the heart, she would be pronounced dead.

“Clear!!” The paramedic shouted once again, pressing the defibrillators back against her skin and causing her body to jump once again with the shock. The flatline droned on.

Two paramedics grabbed each others hands, squeezing them tightly.

“Come on now dammit!!” The paramedic shouted, charging the defibrillators one final time. “Clear!!” The man yelled, his voice brimming with desperation as he pressed the machines against her skin again. She convulsed once again, and the flatline continued.

Everyone went silent, everyone’s hearts heavy with the realization that there was no saving Skye Riley.

The famous pop star was dead. She was officially dead.

Everyone lowered their heads, two of the paramedics even allowing a few tears to stream down their cheeks.

“…Call it,” the lead paramedic said, and another looked down at his watch.

“Time of death: 7:24 pm, Octob-“

*beep.*

Everyone silenced immediately, all eyes flickering up to the heart monitor.

*beep.*

Another small beep echoed in the silent ambulance.

*beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.*

The machine let out a few small uneven beeps before finally regaining a rhythm once again, and slowly but surely picking up speed.

Every paramedic was silent before they all turned their eyes back towards each other, relief etched into all of their expressions.

“Oh Jesus Christ, it’s a miracle,” one of them mumbled with a soft laugh.

post mortem