#Man With a Plan

[kiwiflame]

HOW 2 MAKE NIGHT SKIES LIKE TSSB

TODAY I WILL SHOW U HOW EZ THIS SHIT IS. JUST FOLLOW ALONG AND YOU WILL BE AN EXPERT IN NO TIME

FIRST U OPEN A NEW CANVAS. I USE FIRE ALPACA BECAUSE I LIKE IT

NEXT U FILL ALL THAT SHIT WITH BLACK

THIS NEXT PART IS IMPORTANT. ON A NEW LAYER ABOVE UR BLACK CANVAS, GENERATE A CLOUD TEXTURE IN BLACK AND WHITE. IN FIRE ALPACA U DO THIS WITH FILTER -> CLOUD, AND IN PHOTOSHOP IT'S FILTER -> RENDER -> CLOUDS

SET BLENDING MODE OF THE CLOUD TEXTURE 2 DODGE

COLOR THAT SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ON ANY LAYER UNDERNEATH THE CLOUDS, CHOOSE COLORS AND SLAP THEM AROUND WITH A SOFT-EDGED BRUSH. AS U CAN SEE ON THE LEFT, I USED VERY COMPARATIVELY DARK COLORS TO THE OUTPUT. A LITTLE GOES A LONG WAY

WITH A PARTICLE BRUSH SCATTER WHITE DOTS. OR DO IT BY HAND. IM NOT UR BOSS

IT'S DONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[tulisydan]

I need you to look in to my eyes when I say this word… no don’t look away! Ljubav

[philippeauguste]

Can’t wait to see Stede rising up to the occasion and being a true leader with a plan. He started to show signs of maturity this new season, especially when he helped the crew escape execution for mutiny.

He’s going to grow into himself and finally be the competent and confident captain he wanted to be. Hopefully, with Ed at his side 👀 Co-captains

[bdgonhldy]

for a price, dearie

[heavenboy09]

Happy Birthday 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 To You

1 Of The Funniest & Humble Comedic Actors In Television 📺 Since 1994 , From 1 Of The Greatest Television Sitcoms 📺 On NBC

Please Wish This Loveable & Dedicated Cherished But Funny TV 📺 Actor Of The 90's A Very Happy Birthday 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊

YOU KNOW HIM SINCE 1994

YOU ALL LAUGHED AT HIS FUNNIEST JOKES & THE STUFF HE SAYS AS WELL AS DOES 😆 🤣 😂

& STILL TO THIS VERY DAY. HE WILL MAKE YOU WANNA SAY

HOW YOU DOING ?

THE 1 & ONLY

MR. MATT LEBLANC AKA JOEY TRIBBIANI OF NBC'S 1994 CLASSIC TV SITCOM 📺, FRIENDS 👬👭👫

#MattLeblanc #Friends #LostInSpace #Joey #Episodes #ManWithAPlan #JoeyTribbiani

[nivinas-world]

My all time favourite light hearted comfort shows💛🩵

[kissingupyourinnerthighs]

1000000 louder for those up the back.

Yes I'm hiding up the back - I need to remind myself of this daily!

Focus on yourself and everything else will fall into place.

I'm off to listen to some more Jordan Peterson.

[muffinlance]

Consider: Post-canon Zuko wakes up in the body of his childhood self, the morning of That War Meeting. Would he still speak against the plans, knowing his fate? What do you think he would do differently the second time around?

"Turned away at the doors, Zuzu?"

"Shut up, Azula," her brother sulked. But sulked weirdly, after staring at her too long and too wide-eyed, not like she'd surprised him but--

But like he hadn't expected her to be there. At all.

He turned away. ...He turned back. "Hey, Lala? Do you think you could help me practice that one set?"

He didn't meet her eyes.

She narrowed hers. "Which set?"

"The one I'm bad at."

She scoffed. Pushed away from the wall she'd been leaning against. "That's all of them, Dum-Dum."

He didn't shout or stomp or yell about the nickname. His lips twitched.

"It's okay," he said. "If you're afraid you won't be a better teacher that my instructor..."

It was the most obvious manipulation ever.

Perhaps if he proved an adequate firebending student, she'd work on his courtly survival skills next. Honestly, it was good that not even Uncle Gets-Cousins-Killed had been fool enough to take Zuko into that war meeting. She could only imagine how terribly that could have gone.

"Keep up," she said, and turned her steps towards the training grounds.

He did. There, and during the katas she ran him through.

Azula kept her eyes narrowed.

"Hey," he asked, "do you know how to bend lightning yet?"

As if he could have missed it, if she'd been able to get more than sparks. "I will soon," she said.

"You will," he agreed, and flowed through his next set. The one she'd only just mastered.

Father didn't notice how weird Zuzu was being. Uncle never noticed anything. Zuko ate dinner and asked a servant for seconds and didn't stutter or flinch or lose his appetite when father asked, coolly, what he'd done with his day. Azula's shoulders tensed, because one mention of how she'd squandered her own training time teaching him--

"Azula hogged the training grounds. For hours," Zuzu scowled, exactly like a petulant thirteen year old.

Exactly like he hadn't been acting all day.

By the time Father was looking her way, Azula had her usual smirk in place. "I'm sure there would be room for both of us," she said, "you're not afraid of a little friendly fire, are you, brother?"

Zuko sulked. And ate his seconds, like he was enjoying each bite. There was something in his eyes, like a joke no one else was getting.

---

Father died that night. A heart attack. There were the faintest of burns to either side of the treacherous organ; the royal physician hypothesized that he'd grabbed at his chest, fingers burning hot in his final moments; so hot they'd only exacerbated the problem.

The royal physician would never have been brought any victims of lighting strikes. Those that occurred in the capital did not generally require a doctor in the aftermath.

Zuzu ate a hearty breakfast.

He didn't order seconds. Azula gave him points, at least, for not being tacky.

---

The sages named Iroh as regent.

They named Zuko as Fire Lord.

"No," the tiny Fire Lord in his perfectly miniaturized Fire Lord robes said, sitting at the head of his war council. "We're not doing that. And I'll be reviewing all recent battle plans, as well. What's this I hear about a division of new recruits being deployed to the front?"

He did not mention how he'd heard of the 41st Division. No one asked.

"Prince Iroh, surely--" one of the generals tried to appeal.

The young Fire Lord's regent was looking as startled as the rest of them, for a moment. Then he sipped his tea, and smiled.

"Your Fire Lord is correct, of course. A change in our leadership--a change the other nations may mistakenly view as weakness--will necessitate a change in our strategy."

"Now," said their lord, "what, exactly, is our overall objective in this war?"

War, the new Fire Lord decreed, was not an end unto itself.

---

The new Fire Lord continued to have time, to pretend to be trained by her. Azula watched him. Adjusted her footwork. Did not tolerate, and was not offered, any commentary on who was teaching who.

"What did you do with my brother?" she asked, as they flowed from one set to the next. As her hands, poised to throw fire, just so happened to be pointed his way.

He missed a step. It didn't look like an act.

"I'm, uh. Right here?"

She didn't bother to dignify that.

He didn't bother to look worried about her hands, one movement off from a true attack.

He looked around, then grabbed her sleeve, and tugged her further from any walls that may hide ears. The royal family's private training grounds were wonderfully large, and wonderfully open.

"It's me," he said. "It's still me. Just. More of me? Longer of me?"

She narrowed her eyes. A familiar expression, by this point. "Explain."

"...I found the Avatar," he said. "And this is definitely his fault, but--but I guess it started at a war meeting, when I was thirteen."

Azula listened. It was a very Dum-Dum story.

[tyrannosaurus-trainwreck]

Actually, I know damn well Darcy never sat down and thought about marrying Lizzie. If he had, it would have been a week before he was rounding up Bingley, sitting him down, and looking him in the eye like he was about to propose high treason and going, "Jane. You still down bad for her?"

Coin toss whether Bingley would actually get to answer before Darcy turned around and flipped over a whiteboard like

and launched right into the most detailed migration pattern known to Regency England to keep the extraneous Bennets as contained as humanly possible by rotating them between various Bingley/Darcy estates. Like, we're talking about trading them off for minor holidays a decade out kind of detailed.

"If you and Jane take them for Lady Day ten years hence, Elizabeth and I will take them for Michaelmas. We'll all be together for Christmas and Midsummer, so we'll divide the responsibility individually on those days."

This would be followed by thirteen different spreadsheets projecting joint expenditures so Bingley knows what sort of financial commitment he'll be shouldering and how to minimize it, what proportion Darcy will take care of, what the estate plans are in case Darcy predeceases anybody, when they should probably roll out various stages to keep it from affecting their respective sisters' ability to maximize their own husband-hunting--whole nine yards.

Darcy does not know that he'll probably be murdered when the Bingley sisters find out why he asked for their social calendars. He'd be marginally fine with that at this point, because the fucking Napoleonic War campaigns were not as meticulously planned as his roadmap to getting the other three Bennets satisfactorily married, and Darcy feels about as able as if he'd spent the last year on Elba.

It takes Bingley a few minutes to realize why this is happening, then he's like

"You proposed to Elizabeth?! Congratulations!"

Darcy... knew there was something he was forgetting.

That man would have kicked the Collins's door open with four binders tucked under each arm, dumped them in a pile in front of Elizabeth, and loudly announced that if they get married tomorrow he can have her entire family except for Jane extraordinary renditioned to the Scottish moors by Sunday and then been like

"Why are you yelling at me?! I promise you, it will work! You'll never see anyone in your family except for Jane again, I swear it!" when she starts yelling at him.

[kindlingkeen]

Source: red hood outlaws (enjoy the pretty, not the storyline)

Judd Winnick said 'let's bring Jason back and make him angry and intelligent and terrifying' and people stopped listening after angry.

[kiwiflame]

EDIT: people have expressed need for more time, so the new deadline is September 21st!!

Submission Guidelines

To be eligible for printing in TSSB's book, submissions must...

• Be in either drawn or written format

As well as drawn pieces, you may also submit pieces of written prose! A mini example of what this will look like in the final book is posted below:

• Feature either TSSB characters or locations from the comic (such as Callaiaster Town, Dynamene City, etc)

• Be exactly 2550x2627px in size for art pieces OR up to 700 words for prose. Below is the template that includes the bleed, grayed out. The bleed is the part of the page that can get cut off or sewn into the binding of the book. You are encouraged to fill the entire page, and your piece must have a background (a solid background is completely acceptable!), but any important details about your art, such as faces, important props, and artist signatures should ideally not fall into the grayed area!

• You may resubmit an old piece as long as it fits the dimensions!

• Up to 3 pieces may be submitted of any type!

You may submit your work through any site, but make sure to send it directly to me so that I can find it! This can be done via PM on DeviantArt, Tumblr, or Discord. (I will not be providing my Discord contact; this is only for those who already have it)

[breeberrypies]

i hate these lesbians so much (i need them to be my dads)

[kettlefire]

Muscle Memory (DpxDc)

Jason barely remembered getting back to his safe house or even finding his way to bed. The night had been so tiring, so busy, and so many parts of his body hurt.

The moment his head hit the pillow, he was out like a light. Drifting off into dreamland for some much need sleep.

That was until a noise stirred him up from his sleep. It was a soft creak of one of his many loose floorboards.

It was in a flash that Jason was up, eyes still heavy with sleep, and a gun held to his thigh as he exited his bedroom. The soft light coming from his bathroom was the first hint.

When he pushed open the bathroom door, the sight before him had him holstering his weapon. Black hair, blue eyes, and blood. That's all Jason needed to see.

Jason would swear he wasn't still half asleep, that he knew this wasn't one of his brothers. In reality, still sluggish from a hard night and sleep deprivation, Jasin's brain had automatically assumed it was one of his baby brothers.

As he immediately settled into patching up the wounds, holding back questions for now. It wouldn't be the first time one of them came to him for aid when they didn't want Bruce to know they were hurt yet.

It was pure muscle memory as Jason worked. Yes, he didn't like the injuries, reminding himself to ask which rogue did this in the morning.

Now wasn't the time for an interrogation. Not with the barely concealed tears in those eyes, or the dark bags that decorated beneath them.

He barely grumbled for the teen to take the couch, reminding that there were extra blankets in the hallway closet. Dropping a few pills into the boy's hand to help with the pain he was surely in.

Jason left the mess in the bathroom, leaving it a problem for more awake him. He waved the boy off when he tried to speak, telling him they'll talk in the morning.

In the end, Jason was glad to finally face plant back into his bed. Barely bothering to curl up under the covers before sleep took over once again.

When morning came, Jason almost forgot about letting one of his brother's crash in his place. Stumbling out of his bedroom to immediately notice the lump on his couch.

He put a pot of coffee on, grabbing his phone, ready to let Bruce know that whoever came to him last night was safe and sound.

Except, when Jason moved over to confirm who it was, he finally noticed. This wasn't one of his brothers. And last he heard, Bruce hadn't taken in any new strays.

Jason stood over the sleeping boy, phone in one hand, and mind figuring out what to do. His mind replaying the half-asleep memories from last night.

It made sense, now that he thought about it. The boy had seemed so scared, so surprised that Jason was helping. The boy hadn't done anything either by the looks of it.

He didn't seem to have taken anything or even snooped. The boy seemed to have just crashed on the couch like Jason had told him to. He didn't come here to rob him or cause trouble. The kid had broken into his safe house only to raid his first aid kit.

The kid had broken into his safe house only to raid his first aid kit.

Well, Jason wasn't about to put Alfred's teachings to shame by being a horrible host either.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

something about first impressions idk

bonus:

[egophiliac]

doylist explanation for why Gidel is only in Fellow's non-idle lesson animations: probably something about space constraints and making sure two sprites in one seat aren't covering anyone else when they're not in focus

watsonian explanation for why Gidel is only in Fellow's non-idle lesson animations: he snuck in and is hiding from the teachers, don't give him away 🤫

(I've reached my limit of unsuccessful attempts at pulling them before I need to save keys for Halloween, so I've been living vicariously through youtube videos...but the fact that Gidel just pops up from under the desk to wave his arms around happily is really testing my resolve. D: I'm gonna die when they finally get to do alchemy...)

[sink-is-ey-okay]

"...Time?"