#ya know ^v^

[animationismycomfort]

ya know in the sonic community there’s only a few ships I don’t really like it’s not that I hate them and I think in certain series they’re amazing but if I could avoid them all together some days I’d choose it

vector x vanilla(genuinely I just hate this one idk why but it’s so bleh to me)-10/0

sonamy(I don’t hate it and I get it from a certain point of view but I just don’t like them that much)-7/0

shadouge(no real reason I just see them more as family)-4/0

infinite x gadget(….its just weird to me that’s all.)-6/0

charmy x cream(I just don’t like shipping cream with anyone)-5/0

tails x cream(grain I don’t hate it’s just tails feels too much like an older brother to me)-5/0

[mochasucculent]

The gang all together 👍

Sketch v final + refs below!

First pic was reffed from My Own Private Idaho, which ended up being a really bad idea because this focal length was ridiculous to try and flatten out and match with the others lol

Second pic was obvi The Pieta by Michelangelo, but shoutout to my partner for suggesting the role reversal cause I was initially gonna draw Viktor in Jayce's arms again, but having it the other way around gave me the idea for the last piece where they're mutually in each other's arms and on equal ground in the composition

Third pic was reffed from The Blossoming Of Love by Miquel Blay! Had to move Jayce's hand to Viktor's shoulder because he was too yolked for his arm to fit between them lmao

[umblrspectrum]

infinitely funnier visuals in my head, likely because they werent subject to my actual skill level in art

[oneofthosecrazycatladies]

This is your daily reminder that autocrats thrive on hopelessness. They thrive on fear. They win when the people become resigned and believe that fighting back is impossible.

Listen, there’s simply no denying that we are on the road to autocracy. But, believe it or not, we’re not there yet. (Yes, it’s true!) We can turn back!

But in order to do that, we have to believe we can.

There’s an Eleanor Roosevelt quote that gets repeated so often, it’s almost lost its meaning, but I still think it’s worth revisiting in a new light:

“No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.”

Don’t give them permission to make you feel lesser! That’s what they want! They want you to just roll over and accept their dominance!

Listen, I know this whole situation is so fucking exhausting. And wouldn’t it be so great if we didn’t have to fight so hard for our basic rights and freedoms? But these are the cards we’ve been dealt; we’re in this fight whether we like it or not.

So, do whatever you need to do to keep yourself sane. We’re in this fight, but we need to take it in shifts or else we’ll get burnt out and then they win.

Keep yourself sane. Find the moments of joy wherever you can. And remember that no one gets to make you feel lesser just because they want you to.

[ministarfruit]

day 24: plagued by the horrors ♡

(femslashfeb prompt list)

[cloudcastor]

soriku week day 5: opposites attract

[claybooots]

Bepo *smiles wide*

[rottenbrainmatter]

i like playing toys and games

[bathroomtrapped]

if i had control over the franchise id def make someone do a little cannibalism here and there

[rosepersicas]

Every other candidate in that interview room not knowing they're part of Saeon and Heejoo's ridiculously complicated foreplay

[m-e-i-n-a-r-t]

Made a cover for my daemon comic since it'll be done in a few parts*

*No parts to post yet tho since I made this instead of working on it :^)

(it's gonna be pretty dark so apologies for that LOL but i'll be tagging the content warnings appropriately)

[grif-hawaiian-rolls]

sometimes u just get so filled w thoughts about a pair of characters u gotta just go bonkers ya know

[heylittleriotact]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Thank you for the tag @preciouslittlebhaalbae - I love ember and I’m excited to see how this oneshot plays out! ♥️

I’m on vacation this week and not getting a whole lot of writing done, but here’s the first part of Chapter 20 of i heard people are dying to get in here.

🌱💚🌱💚🌱💚🌱

Three Months Later

A world-weary sigh found its way past Rook's lips as she studied the cremation paperwork in her hand.

1 x Ashen Pewter

3 x Ashen Pewter Miniature

2 x Sterling Silver Teardrop Pendant

1 x Sterling Silver Dog Tag Pendant

"Fucking hate filling jewelry..." she muttered, tossing the cremation contract onto the counter and lifting the small blue Rubbermaid container over to the hand towel that was spread out.

She found the cardboard boxes containing the urns taped shut and bearing the name of the deceased scribbled in Sharpie on the side: one big one, three little ones, and three small jewelry boxes.

Using a box cutter, she opened the largest box and pulled out the styrofoam prism that was packed tightly inside, gently laying it on the counter and lifting away one half to reveal the urn within. Snagging the contract again, she looked at the personalization field of the printed document.

Name: First, Last; D.O.B. - D.O.D.; 'Forever In Our Hearts'; Font: Elegant Script.

Her eyes went back and forth between the information on the paper and the front of the matte finish, grey-blue metal urn: it would have been checked over when the crem received it, but Rook had learned not to rely on other people's eyes when several-hundred-dollars worth of merchandise was on the table.

Satisfied that the manufacturer hadn't mistakenly engraved 'Arnold' instead of 'Ronald', Rook slipped the urn from the styrofoam and set about filling it: the lid was popped off the Rubbermaid to reveal the clear plastic bag of cremated remains within, sealed with a twist-tie, the scorched metal cremation tag resting against the backdrop of powdery grey and white skeletal remains.

It was Tuesday, and this urn was due to be received by the family the next day, along with three others that Becks hadn't seen fit to fill during the weekend when she covered the chapel for Rook's days off.

If there was one thing she'd learned in the months she'd been at Pemberly, it was that no one actually seemed to understand how fucking busy it actually was. For some reason because it wasn't as big as Hilldwell or Arbor Heights, it was automatically assumed that it didn't boast nearly the same volume of calls on a monthly basis - a fact that Rook took it upon herself to disprove one day when it wasn't insanely busy and sat down to calculate and average out the monthly calls that Pemberly got versus the amount that Hilldwell and Arbor Heights got. While Pemberly tailed both chapels by an average of thirty or so calls, it still averaged out to eighty-odd calls per month, which worked out to between two and three new calls per day, and nearly twenty per week.

That was a lot of dead people. A lot of grieving people coming through the doors. A lot of identifications and arrangements and obituaries and clothing drop-offs and urn pick ups.

And she was the only admin there.

There were no funeral attendants or directors unless there was a service or visitation scheduled, and half the attendants that ended up there were happy to sit in the lunchroom snacking on greasy hamburgers and fries during services instead of actually doing anything useful.

She had a housekeeper when she first moved, but Eloise had been on stress leave for over a month by then, and management seemed to think that along with every other aspect of the chapel, Rook surely had more than enough time to vacuum, mop, dust, shovel snow, and prepare coffee and cookies for arrangement meetings.

She glanced over her shoulder at the cremation container on a bier behind her and prayed that by the time her other two identifications were finished and she could move this one into a free visitation room, the person inside wouldn't be a mess of purge, which would be just her luck.

Emmrich was scheduled to come to the chapel for three o'clock arrangements, and she found herself hoping his graveside service at one would wrap up early enough so that he could come early - she felt a bit pathetic relying on him for help, but on a day like today, an extra set of hands would be extremely welcomed...

She pulled a fresh plastic bag from the drawer under the counter and arranged it inside the empty Ashen Pewter after sticking a label with the decedent's name, date of death, and cremation number to the bag itself and the bottom of the urn: if the urn ever went missing, or the bag of cremated remains was removed from the urn for whatever reason, this way the remains could be identified and returned to McDermott & Rafferty so someone could contact the family.

Having done this many times by now, Rook made short work of filling the main urn, the keepsakes, and was carefully spooning finely ground but gritty ash into the last of the pendants when she heard the side door in the garage slam, announcing the entrance of another employee.

"You made it!" She called to the adjacent space, rolling the threading of the small screw in the small puddle of blue thread-locker she'd squeezed onto a paper towel and using the small Allen wrench provided to negotiate the small metal piece into place on the back of the pendant. She gave it a couple of quick twists and squinted at the pendant, wiping away a bit of excess thread-locker and then setting it down with the others to dry. "I was wondering when you'd get here–" she negotiated around the cremation container in the middle of the room and entered the garage. "– how was the graveside?"

The welcome sight of Emmrich did not greet her in the garage, however, but rather the daft pink face of Derek, flanked by none other than... Elgar'nan?

Rook stiffened, immediately on the defensive the moment that vile cologne assaulted her nose.

What the fuck are these clowns doing here? They better not be fixing to fire me...

"Hello, Rook," Derek said, in his hollow yet amiable tone. "I'm giving Elgar'nan a tour of our facilities. Pemberly is our last stop - I’ll take Emmrich’s three o’clock arrangements since I’m already here.”

You mean you’ll sit in the arrangement office with the family for two hours and accomplish absolutely nothing and leave the rest for me to follow up with tomorrow?

Tagging: @xxnashiraxx @aldisobey @emmg @ollypopwrites @razildor

[zylphiacrowley]

You know what, I love Luca Blight as a villian because here you have this guy with a horrific and tragic backstory but that still doesn't make him sympathetic. He's still an absolute monster and I like that they never really try to make the player sympathize with him.

[pen-papers]

Diglett bodyguards on break

[stromuprisahat]

Six of Crows- Chapter 21 (Leigh Bardugo)

Busy life, isn't it?

If Kaz is seventeen, and joined the Dregs in twelve,

he'd have five years to PLAN and achieve all that. Except he wasn't arrested since fourteen,

so unless he fucked up big after one of his big targets already done, we have three years only. All while gaining trust of his boss and co-workers, making a name for himself, recruiting useful people he needs to get to know first and organizing such endeavours as rebuilding a whole fucking harbour, when already owning at least a part of the Crow Club?

This is a world of liars, merchants and cheats. It should take some time before he establishes himself enough for others to be willing to deal with him in a way ALL the risk won't be on his side.

Kaz allegedly managed way too much in a way too short time.

He either should've been written as older, a child from already established family or have an admitted supernatural time-managing skill alongside his superbrain and miraculous amount of luck. Not even being a prodigy guarantees success. Just look at the amount of failed "gifted" children on this hellsite.

He's so "lucky" he's hard to take seriously as an underdog he's presented as. If he can do so much with so little in such a short time without memorable setbacks, he "doesn't have it so bad".