#Get some pointers

[pokemonfrommemory]

Love his helmet!

[iamthelegman]

Not all tattoos have to have some deep, personal meaning or story behind it. You can get a tattoo just because you like it or you thought it was funny.

[arntyoujustcute]

"Strange Manicure"

(^She's so cocky here, I love her)

"Hey, Sektor?” Smoke calls out to her from across the table, snapping her from the thoughts. New blueprints for her flamethrower’s harness and what material would be best suited for it served as her mind's distraction as they waited for Bi-Han's arrival.

“Yes, Smoke?” She replied, lifting her head up from its resting place on her crossed hands. She had cleaned her hands free of her workshop's dirt and oil before coming to this assembly, and her nails were just as spotless. That was not what Smoke wanted to point out, however. It was something else on the Master Armorer that confused him.

“Why are the nails on your middle and ring fingers shorter than the others?” 

The young man asked his question, truly clueless on the matter. Her work was very hands-on, of course, but her nails were deliberately cut short on both hands compared to the rest on her other fingers.

Sektor sighed and glared, breathing low through her nose. Next to Smoke, Scorpion coughed loudly behind his mask, trying to cover up the laughter that tried to spill out.

“Mind your business, Tomáš.” Sektor scoffed, turning away from the smoke user. Scorpion is now chuckling silently, his face in his hands. Smoke blinks rapidly between the two of them, not sure what he did wrong.

“I did not mean to offend, I was only curious since it seemed like you did it on purpose.” He explained, making his situation even worse. Sektor glared daggers at him that would have killed him dead if she had it her way, and his brother laughed loudly, tears building up in his face.

“You have not felt the touch of a woman yet, have you?” Sektor mocked, still refusing to give him the reason for her strange manicure. Tomáš gasped, confused about what he did to deserve that when Kuai Liang spoke up from his laughing fit.

“If you are truly curious brother, go ask Sektor's assistant. I'm sure she wouldn't mind helping you!” Kuai teased, earning Sektor’s ire.

“Do not even think about it Tomáš!” She snarled, standing up from her seat. What goes on between her and her signif-her assistant is no one's business but there's.

Smoke stuttered, not sure why you of all people would know the answer to his question, but then Bi-Han walked through the room, icy vapor trailing behind him. The Grandmaster's presence forces them and everyone else in the room to look at him.

“Is there an issue?” The cryomancer spoke gruffly, seeing the scene playing out between his brothers and Master Armorer.

“Nothing, Bi-Han. May we begin now?” Sektor spoke first before Scorpion and Smoke, the two younger brothers quickly changing into pictures of obedient subordinates with the eldest of them now appearing.

Bi-Han looks between the three of them, still suspicious that he interrupted something judging from how Smoke keeps looking at Sektor, like she offended him. He will find out more later, from Sektor herself or from one of his brothers, and the meeting begins with little fuss.

Later on, while Sektor is off distracted somewhere, Tomáš makes his way down to her laboratory. He dodges cables, heavy boxes of building materials, and random chemicals in bottles stamped with symbols he doesn't understand. The person he seeks is currently leaning over one of the many tables around the room, a pair of heavy goggles protecting their face as they piece together more toxic yellow glue bombs for Cyrax. They hear his footsteps on the metal floor and look up from their work, lifting the industrial goggles hiding their eyes from view.

“Tomáš! What can I do for you?” You ask cheerfully, twisting yourself in your chair to face him. The Czech greets you back, making his way around your lover's magnificent lab to your side.

“I hope I am not interrupting you too much, I have a question to ask you that Sektor refused to answer.” Tomáš reveals, making you hum. Sektor could occasionally be a bit brash, a side effect of a large ego combined with a strong mind. It annoyed you in the beginning, but now you know better than to let her attitude get under your skin, and better yet, how to get under hers.

“You're good! What is it?” 

“Why are Sektor’s nails on her ring and middle fingers shorter than her other ones?” He asked, still just as clueless. He watched as your eyes widened and mouth dropped, a tiny squeak coming out from your throat. Your face heated up from embarrassment, and you quickly looked away from the warrior as you sat up.

“What!? W-why would I know?!” You yelled, your fingers coming up to try and cool your heated face. “Why are you asking me?”

“Scorpion said that you would know!” Tomáš defended himself, now on the receiving end of two different women's anger. You were not as skilled as him or Sektor in kombat, but you were more than able to hold your own. As if Sektor would ever leave you alone without some way to defend yourself. 

“Well I don't, so there's your answer!” You snapped, bringing your conversation with the typhomancer to a close. You stomped away from him, flinging your goggles and gloves to the side and going after wherever your lover was in the temple. To kiss or slap her, you don't know yet, you'll figure it out on the way.

Tomáš meant to chase after you, asking for forgiveness for whatever he did, but then the invisible light bulb over his head went off. He still didn't understand the thing with Sektor’s nails, but he did understand why his brother sent him after you. 

You, a lowly engineer and Lin Kuei initiate, and Sektor, the clan’s Master Armor and its best mind…what an interesting couple.

[hitwiththefandomz]

the bay area turtles of cabin 5 want to know if your turtles wanna surfboard with them!

@tmnt-fandom-family-reunion

Not that much surfing experience in this bunch, but they’re happy to try!

@tmnt-fandom-family-reunion

Cabin #7 (7Wonders of the Turtleverse)

[stellamancer]

2.6k words of absolute ridiculousness. contains essence of selfship coding. inspired by and takes place in @nagumoan's hsr office au so thanks goes to loni for letting me play in her sandbox!! i apparently love office aus. i was originally writing something different but uh. idk how this happened. proofread to the best of my ability. ALSO. i didn't research. anything about how this process works. i am sorry to anyone who works in this field.

There are many evils in this world and, for you, public speaking is one of them. Always has and always will be, but despite that, here you are, about to speak to a sizable group of people. You know well enough that this is just a part of your job, but it doesn't make it any less agonizing.

"Well then," Aglaea urges you and her normally soothing tone sounds more like a death march right now. "Go on."

She gives you what you assume is supposed to be a reassuring smile, but it doesn't help. It must be nice being her; not only is Aglaea good at this sort of thing, she's already presented— went first even.

Since Aglaea's no help you look past her at Blade in the futile hope that he might be able to save you, but he merely gives you an impassive stare before saying, "…it'll be over soon enough."

Should have known better.

As much as you love your coworkers you know full that they can't help you, can't fight your battles, and they certainly can't do your presentation for you. But, Blade is right, it'll be over soon enough— you just need to start.

With that in mind, you take a deep breath before standing up, gripping the folder in your hands like a lifeline. Shakily, you pull out a stack of papers and walk the room, offering a handout to everyone who's decided to attend the meeting. Obviously, there are your fellow members of the product design and development department, and naturally a few people from sales and marketing, and—

You stop short.

Sitting in the very back corner of the room is none other than the HR department's very own Mr. Sunday, legs crossed, notebook on his lap and—

Oh god.

You're not sure what's worse— the fact that Mr. Sunday is here right now or the fact that you can very plainly see an annotated drawing of the dildo prototype that Blade just showed off to everyone present.

He holds out his hand expectantly, offering you that pleasant yet chilling smile he always has in exchange for the handout you've been giving out. After a split second of careful consideration, you decide that Mr. Sunday's presence is much worse than the contents of his notebook; it's only natural to take notes at a pitch session after all.

You nearly crumple the sheet as you shove it into his hand before you spin around to make your way back to the front of the room. Why is Mr. Sunday even here of all places? You know that anyone in the company is allowed to sit in on pitch sessions, including anyone in the HR department, but as far as you're aware, Mr. Sunday has never come to one. Not only do you think that, as head of HR, he would be too busy to attend, but you can't imagine he has any reason to unless—

You nearly trip as the realization that he might be here to keep an eye on you dawns on you. There's no way, right? That would be ridiculous. Sure, you'd earned a spot on his watchlist, but everything you've done pales in comparison to what you've heard about Sampo in sales. You remember seeing him here too, so maybe he's the one Mr. Sunday's keeping an eye on. That has to be it, you tell yourself, if for no other reason than your own sanity's sake; you're only mentally equipped to deal with either this presentation or Mr. Sunday's scrutiny, not both.

When you get to the podium, you choose which problem to deal with and banish all thoughts of Mr. Sunday from your mind. Unfortunately, that does very little to dispel your unease because as you turn to face the crowd you remember, all over again, how you are not made for this sort of thing. You clear your throat and say, in an unintentionally squeaky voice. "Um… good morning everyone!"

If anything, the chorus of good mornings that echoes back at you is mildly comforting.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Aglaea give you a soft smile and next to her Blade nods, both of them encouraging you in their own way. You take a deep breath and continue. "So, the product I'm pitching today is called, um… nipple nibbler."

There's a quiet snicker somewhere in the room and you try to ignore the instinctive reaction of feeling like you're the one they're laughing at and not the product name. You swallow your self-doubt down and give everyone a sheepish smile as you add. "The name's still a work in progress.

"That said, the current name does an effective job of conveying the product's intended use. It's meant to—" you pause and glance down at your notes, "—be applied to your partner's skin, be it their… nipples or any other part of the body (excluding the vaginal area) and essentially licked off. It's similar to food play, though this product has been made with intimate scenarios in mind."

You look at the crowd to gauge their reaction and the fact that they seem amenable so far makes you sigh in relief. "Truthfully, since the product is this fairly straightforward, that's all I really have to say, so if anyone has any questions, I'll do my best to answer them."

Though you hope that no one has any questions.

To your dismay, a hand rises and it's March 7th, the marketing intern. "I was wondering, how exactly is…. nipple nibbler applied to someone's body?"

You flinch. That information is on the hand out you've given everyone, but it's something you should have probably explained yourself. "It's applied directly to one's body using your hands like a topical."

"Oh! I see!" She nods, seemingly satisfied with that answer.

"Any others?"

To your horror, not only does someone else have a question, but it's Mr. Sunday, of all people. Your anxiety shoots through the roof once more and you wish you could ignore him, but you can't. "…yes, Mr. Sunday?"

There's a quiet murmur of surprise throughout the room and it's obvious you're not the only one that's surprised that he's here. He stands and eyes the crowd, silencing everyone who has turned back to look at him instantly, then he turns his attention to you and asks, with that trademark smile of his, "I have a follow up to the previous question; is there a particular reason why you chose for this product to be applied by hand and not with some sort of applicator?"

"Packaging costs," you say automatically and while you wonder if perhaps you shouldn't have been so candid, it is something that needs to be considered if the company chooses to go forward with production. "For the most part anyway. I think there is probably some appeal in using one's hands."

Though, you suppose, for someone like Mr. Sunday, who is known to be a bit of a germaphobe, there is no such appeal.

"But, if the product is popular enough, we can look into investing in alternative packaging that's less hands on." You grab a pen that's sitting on the podium to jot down a note about looking into applicator options. "Any other questions?"

One more hand goes up; this time it's Sampo from sales.

"Yes?"

He gives you a smile and there's something about it that seems… odd, but then again he's an odd kind of guy. Reminds you of a used car salesman and you're not sure if that's a good or bad thing for someone in his department. "Do you happen to have any samples?"

"Oh." You take a second to process the question. "Oh, yes— yes, I do! They're not very big but, I do have some. Just come ask me when the session is over."

"Okay, sounds good~" he says, seemingly positively thrilled. You try not to give too much thought as to why.

You wait to see if anyone else has any questions, but when no one raises their hands you take that to mean that you're just about done. Excited to finally be done, you thank everyone, give a small bow and scurry as fast as you can back to your seat.

"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Aglaea whispers to you as the next person moves to take your place at the podium.

"I guess…" It could have been worse, though you realize that you should have been much, much more prepared. If anything, this will serve as a lesson for next time. You make another note under the one about the applicators about being more thorough with product descriptions next time.

The rest of the presentations proceed smoothly, with a couple of people from R&D pitching a few ideas too. Of those, the most notable is Anaxagoras' lubricant which sparks a borderline argument with Aglaea that Mr. Sunday is forced to intervene on.

Once everyone is done and the session is officially over, a few of the attendees make a beeline for you, looking to obtain samples of your nipple nibbler. In addition to what you think is a good chunk of the sales team, both Ruan Mei and March 7th ask for some as well. As you hand out the samples, you get the distinct feeling that you're being watched and when you look around, you lock eyes with Mr. Sunday.

The bubblegum flavored nipple nibbler sample nearly slips from your fingers as your entire hand goes still. You can't begin to fathom why he might be staring at you. Quickly, you duck your head and and try to see if there's anything or anyone behind you he might be looking at instead.

There is none.

So, then why? You don't get it.

"Thanks for the sample!"

It's like a lightbulb goes off in your head. Could it be that he wants a sample too? But then if that were the case, wouldn't he just come over and—

Mr. Sunday's question echoes in your head. Right. It makes sense that the lack of an applicator would keep Mr. Sunday from trying a product, even if he wanted to. Even if he makes you nervous, you'd like to give him a chance to try the product if he wants to.

As if on instinct, your brain starts to spew out ideas for Mr. Sunday friendly packaging alternatives. It almost feels as if your fingers are itching to get back to your desk to look into the possibilities because surely there's one that can appease someone like him.

It's not uncommon for Sunday's office to receive visitors; as head of HR, one of his many job duties is to lend an ear to the company's employees and help them resolve any issues that he can. While he would prefer that people tell him ahead of time if they'll be stopping in, there's still a fair number of people who will drop by unannounced.

Like right now.

If anything, though, this visitor has the courtesy to knock before just walking in.

"Yes?" Sunday answers, looking up from his computer.

The visitor slowly pokes their head out from one side of the door frame and Sunday recognizes you instantly (though he's proud to say that he's memorized everyone's name and face by this point). As usual, when you're in Sunday's presence, your expression is hesitant and unsure. "…do you have a moment, Mr. Sunday?"

This is a surprise. Sunday doesn't think you've ever come to his office of your own volition before; your visits have always been summons to address your attendance issues. You've since remedied your truant behaviors, but he's been keeping an eye on you to make sure you don't relapse. "Of course, how might I be of service?"

"Um…" You slowly walk into the office and your visage makes Sunday feel as if he's watching a fawn walk into a lion's den.

He motions to the chairs on the opposite side of his desk. "You're welcome to sit if you'd like."

"I-it's fine, this won't take long." You reach into your pocket and pull out a clear plastic zipper bag that contains a single plastic tube that resembles chapstick. Carefully, you place it on Sunday's desk before elaborating. "So I thought about what you asked at the pitch session the other day and came up with this. The nipple nibbler's consistency is a little softer than regular lip balm, but it's still solid enough that you can use this twist tube rather than your fingers."

By the end of your explanation, your features have relaxed a little and you give Sunday a small smile.

"O-oh. I see." It's clear that you're quite pleased with how you've decided to address the question he'd posed during your presentation. Truthfully, he had been merely voicing a thought that he believed consumers would have, but Sunday gets the impression that you believed that he had a personal interest in the product. After all, why else would you come here? Still, as HR he should be congratulating you for this accomplishment. "It's rather fortunate that you've come up with something so quickly. Am I correct to assume this applicator has roughly the same production cost as your previous prototype?"

You blink at Sunday, your expression growing oddly blank. "…yeah, it's about the same."

The disappearance of your shy enthusiasm only confirms Sunday's suspicions. While he doesn't quite know why you thought he he was interested in the product, your reaction makes him feel like he's failed you in some way.

"Anyway!" Your voice is an octave higher, the chipper tone obviously forced. "I just thought I would come tell you, Mr. Sunday. I'm sorry if I interrupted anything."

Hurriedly, you grab the new sample that you clearly meant to offer Sunday from his desk and start to rush from the room but before you make it out the door he manages to call out to you, "Wait."

Your entire body stills and slowly you turn back toward him. Sunday holds your gaze for a moment before he holds out his hand. You stare down at it before looking back at him.

"I don't mind if you leave that sample with me," he tells you.

You look away, "It's okay, Mr. Sunday, you don't need to feel obligated to take it if you don't want it."

"Nonsense," Sunday argues. "It would be rude of me to not accept since you came all this way to bring it."

Hesitantly, you turn back toward Sunday and, for once, he has trouble trying to figure out what you might be thinking. There are too many thoughts on your face to discern just one alone. Finally, you settle on one: hope. "Are you sure?"

"Of course."

You seem to search his face, evaluating his answer before you move back to his desk and place the bag back on it. "…If you use it, would you mind with giving me feedback?"

He smiles at you. "Naturally, though, I cannot tell you when exactly that will be."

You nod, and Sunday isn't quite sure what to make of the lack of surprise on your face. Now that you've accomplished what you've come here for, you move to leave the office again. It's not quite 5PM yet so Sunday can only assume you're going to return to your department, but…

"Before you go, may I ask one thing?"

You pause once more and glance back at Sunday, tilting your head in an odd way.

"…What flavor is it?" He'd heard from the other employees who had sampled the product mention a variety of flavors, most of which seem to be fruit inspired.

Sunday watches as your expression slowly morphs from a blank slate to sheer embarrassment. You avert your eyes as you answer in a quiet voice. "…caramel pudding."

A beat passes, then you add, your voice barely audible, "…because I heard you like it."

why is it that long. it shouldn't be that long i don't understand. if you read to the end, thank you, you're a real one.

[castur1]

Programming? On my Tumblr?

It's more likely than you think >:3

So anyways here's an early tech demo for a lil project I've been working on. I'm making a game in pure C without any external libraries or game engines or whatever, writing everything from the ground up. Why? To see if I could. And also because I hate myself.

This bad boy's got low-latency audio output with a custom audio mixer and WAV file loading, input handling (keyboard + mouse, no controller support yet), and a basic graphics renderer (with BMP file support), as well as some other fun little features. It's built on the Windows API but all the platform code is isolated so that the game can easily ported. And what grand creation shall I make with this? ...Tetris. I'm planning to make a Tetris clone. Lol.

Oh, and the tetris remix you hear in the background? Wrote that myself. Music was never my strongest subject but I am determined to make everything by myself.

That is all.

[lucabyte]

ppl saying they look to my comics for inspiration and pointers on how to format things is WILDDDD to me (and delightful don't get me wrong!! i am overjoyed) because like. none of you are privvy to the absolute WAHHH I DONT WANNNAAA bitchfits i was *CONSISTANTLY* throwing every time i forced myself to make a comic before i got into isat. like no joke. i considered comics such a fucking difficult medium they always drained my drawing energy so hard because they always felt like they took sooo long and had so many moving parts and were so much harder than storyboards (WHICH I ALREADY STRUGGLED WITH) because you had to account for panel shape and speech bubbles and-- like you get it. but genuinely for real. the sheer amount that i complained whenever i clawed my way through drawing a comic (which thus! was not very fucking much!!) compounded by the fact that i *genuinely have trouble reading comics*. as in, i really struggle to parse the flow of contiguous movement or action between panels (possibly connected to the fact ive got mad aphantasia?) of even really well done best-of-the-best professional comics...

... BUT. basically. what im trying to get at is. if you wanna learn to draw comics, evidently you super can?! I genuinely *didnt* draw comics before drawing isat fanart! I have no idea what it was about ISAT fanart that made it finally click for me? (I think it was... not having to think about colour? Removing a step from the process really helped. Plus, it being fanwork meant I could just start en-medias-res and not have to think about setup... Trying to cram too much explanation and setup into my oc stuff was always a big hurdle too...)

I find them fast to do now! and damn if i dont value speed in art (<- impatient little fucker). its still going slowly on my oc comics.. mostly due to the colour again, i think. but it's not extremely, ecruciatingly difficult anymore. is what im saying. and im genuinely baffled by it every time i put pen to page. its fucked up. did you guys know that practice makes things easier? . fucking perverted if you ask me.

As for looking at other people's things for inspiration. if you want to know where I was looking when I was piecing together the first couple fancomics I did for ISAT i want to specifically point at . well besides everything rebecca sugar has ever done (for hands and facial expressions *especially*), the main person i really dug into the work of was Leo Fox (Website link). I feel like i wanna point people to the source of a lot of the inspiration for my more off-kilter panel choices so you all can get the full experience rather than through my regurgitated mimesis. I'm now at the point where i can wing panel layout so i wasn't in there for longgg but. everyone go add it to your knowledge banks as for SUBJECT MATTER aka why i am i so deranged. those are squarely the 2019 postcanon homestuck golden era bleeding through my CLENCHED BITTEN DOWN JAW. A BULL TERRIER ON YOUR BRACHIAL ARTERY. namely that @/floralmarsupial and @/tomatograter's works (no i am not tagging them . im shy) are things i go back to frequently and floralmarsupials pure black/white inktober comics were *especially* an inspiration. if you've been following me a few months you may remember me reblogging a bunch of their stuff from 2019~2021 for seemingly no reason. this was why. The narratively divorced reality of jade strider & Liminal Space are big in my mind here. I balk to call myself anywhere near as good as these but these are what i'm aiming for, tonally and quality-ways with it. also detective pony but ive mentioned that already and thats farrrr too inside baseball for this post.

BUT YEAH TL;DR: I DIDNT DRAW LIKE ANY COMICS UNTIL UHHHH LIKE, WHAT, LIKE 8 MONTHS AGO? JESUS. ANYWAY. THIS MEANS YOU 🫵🫵🫵 CAN DO IT TOO. BELIEVE IN YOURSELF. DATTEBAYO!!!!

[ifindus]

I loved your mexico design!✨ now how do you imagine Colombia to be like?🇨🇴

Thank you! ✨ I have a lot of love for Latin American countries, but I'm obviously no expert on all the nuances and cultural stereotypes😅 here's my first go of Colombia tho:

[nerdcrawfish]

HEY UH.

You know how when you close your eyes you see black?? Um, TFs have glowing eyes--so would they actually see the lit up backs of their lids?

Or do the eye lights shut off when they close their optics lids like a refrigerator??

does it... does it click??

[catrillion]

I'm gonna make split pea soup today for lunch! Yaaaay!!!

[lamina-tsrif]

i need a stash of claims and counter-arguments that i can use against transphobic people because i am horrible at explaining myself. especially people who like to use 'its not the truth, i can see the truth in front of me' and 'something is wrong with them if they want to destroy themselves and cant love their body as it naturally is'. if anyone has some i would love to hear them

[bayofalgecirascranes]

Physically incapable of sticking to a single thing when it comes to writing fanfiction, ive finished the kori senman fic and now my brain is fixated on a Wind Breaker x BNHA crossover that i genuinely don't know if I'll write or not

[gay--dog]

kinda popping off so far with these pins tbh. despite how small & wonky they are

[moons-among-distant-stars]

okay friends i must do work now :(( so putting down the isat but thank y’all very much for indulging me

this game is gonna me explode actually i love it so much

it’s so well written and good and i just want to know every little detail about it

expect more mess of thoughts later

[enigma020]

Hello ! How being a "dad" has been doing with you're cousin ? :<

Very tiring, honestly, but very fun. Also managed to bond with my younger cousins too, played physical activities and online games and a bit of both via VR stuff.

They told me that I’d make a pretty good dad one day and it touched my heart so much ;w;

[bigassbowlingballhead]

sorry no one can convince me that oliver stark has ass. you can put him in all the tight pants you want, have him stick it out as far as he wants. but he's still as flat as the day he was born.