#... and a lizard problem

[lucabyte]

isat doodles in the form of a silly-serious-silly sandwich

[cuterefaction]

#Trektober Day 9, "Dress Uniform". Julian's missing his dress uniform in 'Move Along Home', but since the one we eventually see him in is pretty unflattering I choose to believe that Garak did a night visit months before 'Cardassians' and got too distracted to actually wake him up.

[sycamorality]

you can draw anomaly as whatever tbh. like its a shapeshifter with barely any limits. xe could be an iterator for all you know

[fbwzoo]

It's been almost 9 months and it's still so exciting to see him CLIMB

[tachiharastanacc]

Tachihara is that one kid who gets annoyed by the other kids (Higuchi) talking and loudly tells them to shut up, which then also gets him in trouble with the teacher (Akutagawa)

Tbh I don’t fully understand where ppl get the idea that tachi is the one coming up with hairbrained schemes bc he’s almost always been shown being dragged into them and very very loudly and grumpily complaining lol

[driftbit]

being autistic and working in a position where you do customer service is a special hell while trying to unmask.

[vaguely-concerned]

that higher breathy airy register cardassian voices tend to slip into to tell you that you're about to be in for A Soliloquy and nothing but an act of god could save you from it is something that can actually be so personal (that is so personal to me)

[thedeerman]

context free spoiler for chapter 63 of DYWTK

[blujayonthewing]

mostly I prefer to play in the space and explore/ build on flavor text given by the books rather than outright reject or contradict it wrt things like races and classes in dnd but once in awhile I'll suddenly remember that canonically lizardfolk don't experience emotions and only respond to threats by logically assessing them as such because they're too primitive to feel fear

[hyah-through-hyrule]

We took Salami to the vet and she diagnosed him with perfect boy

[mnemonicpneumaticknife]

Headcannon that the reason weird shit happens when you go warp 10 is that it's like Where No Man Has Gone Before (and TNG's Where No One Has Gone Before) and your imagination becomes reality.

Tom just imagined himself suffering over and over so he suffered. Then once the EMH had stated his "Tom's evolving" theory that he got by grasping at straws, Tom believed him so it became true.

Janeway must have imagined the salamander stuff because Tom was still humanoid when he kidnapped her.

Janeway and Tom in the shuttle screaming like "We're turning into Salamanders! Ahh!" like they're both really high and panicking and the power of suggestion does the rest.

[incorrect-legendary-quotes]

Dialga, going over Koraidon's resume: Okay, so right here, it states that you’re creative.

Koraidon: Yes

Dialga: Okay... may I know what you create?

Koraidon: Problems.

[volcanicsleep]

we watched all* turtle media! here's our ranking list!

*we would watch shows from the beginning until we lost interest, then we'd jump ahead in the series and repeat until we had a good overall impression of the show (we mostly cared about characterization and relationship dynamics).

the rankings are not indicative of objective or subjective quality. it's just based on how much we enjoyed them

the rise movie

rottmnt

tmnt (1990) + tmnt II: secret of the ooze [watch together. its a complete experience]

TMNT (2007)

tmnt (1987)

turtles forever

tmnt (2003)

tmnt batman movie

first bay movie

tmnt flash forward

tmnt III [nigh unwatchable]

tmnt (2012) [had to drop it after 4th episode for mental health safety]

honorable mention: turtle odyssey

[queen-scribbles]

Keeping Warm

Welp, wotr!Trinne/Lann have fic now. We all know what that means: the brainrot is here to stay. :D ---

The grey clouds overhead looked like snow, the threat given extra weight by the chill air, making this a horrible time to be galivanting around, but needs must. It wasn't like the demons would hold off rampaging until the weather was nicer. At least this clearing was semi-protected from the wind, though Trinne still shivered as she approached the solitary figure sitting a ways off from the fire. She bit back a grin.

"I want a rematch," she announced without preamble, playfully twirling the quarterstaff she held.

Lann's head snapped up from the longbow balanced across his knees, the half of his expression she could read torn between amusement and surprise. "Really? Now?"

"And have you kick my ass again, in front of our friends this time?" Trinne laughed, flicking a wrist toward where Seelah and Sosiel chatted, the former keeping half an eye on dinner and the latter clearing the components from his protection ritual. "Not a chance. Mostly I just wanted to see what your face would do if I asked."

He chuckled. "Mostly?"

She leaned the quarterstaff against a nearby tree. "Also wondering what you're doin' over here," she plunked down next to him, squeezing in to the left despite the wider space on his other side, "When the campfire is over there."

Lann shifted to give her more room, the lizard side of his face unreadable as always, but she was pretty sure the other half was pinker than a minute ago. "I thought my bowstring looked a little frayed after fighting those cultists earlier, wanted to check it over to see if it needs replacing or just maintenance." He ran a small hunk of beeswax along the length of the string. "I think it's alright for now, but working too close to the fire would dry it out and it would just fray that much faster."

"Okay, well, you could've thrown on an extra cloak," Trinne said as she cast an admiring look at his handiwork. "Gods know we have plenty. Or, y'know, even just a real shirt," she teased, poking the bare center of his chest.

"I'm fine. Also, almost done," Lann countered. He was trying very hard not to let her see the other half of his face, which, really, meant she didn't need to see it to know what it would show. "I wanted to take care of it tonight so I'm actually useful tomorrow without worrying my bow's about to break and take my nose out with it."

"Yes, you're plenty dashing without the added charm of a broken nose," she laughed, scooting closer again rather than call out the goosebumps she could see on his right arm.

He snorted. "Charm. Right."

"Hey, some people find them attractive," Trinne said with a shrug. "Me, I'd rather you stay uninjured. I like your face the way it is."

She hadn't quite meant to say that last part out loud, and heat rose in her cheeks. Lann looked down at the bowstring, preventing her from reading his expression, and Trinne swallowed a curse.

"There's something I don't hear every day," he deadpanned. "Usually it's shrieks or mothers hissing at their kids that it's rude to stare. Most aren't a fan of the whole stitched together look."

Less competition for me, then. Trinne bit her lip and just managed to hold that one back. "Their loss," she said lightly, bumping her shoulder to his. And lack of taste. It was only because she happened to be looking at his arms(looking, not ogling, much as archery did wonderful things for your arms and, well. She had working eyes) that she caught the faint shiver. "Maybe we should do a rematch."

Now he did turn to shoot her a questioning look for the abrupt shift.

"Maybe hand to hand this time so your 'stunning warrior maiden' can pick up some tricks," she teased, despite knowing that would likely end with her on her ass even faster; at least with a quarterstaff she knew what she was doing. (though not as well as him, clearly.) "At the very least it'll get the blood flowing and be a good way to keep warm."

Lann shook his head and laughed. "Trinne, I told you, I'm fine."

"Well, maybe I'm cold," she countered. His scaled shoulder was cool against hers, even though their clothes. "Or maybe I don't believe you b'cause I saw you shiver, Lann."

"I'm also almost done," he reminded her, a flash of a teasing smile on his face, "or I was before getting distracted."

"Alright, I can take a hint," Trinne snickered. "Just... either throw on a damn cloak or hurry up an' finish so you can come sit by the fire. I think Seelah's almost done dinner. I'll save you a seat and some monster casserole." She leaned over to kiss his cheek before pushing to her feet and heading for the cheery campfire glow without looking back.

The wind was still chilly, the sky threating snow, but there was a warmth in her chest that made those much less of a problem than a few minutes ago.

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

Will we ever get more drawings of the monster and mythical AU?

honest answer is maybe...i would really like to at least get the designs of all the students out but. like. motivation fluctuates like a wave. time passes and life moves unpredictably. sorry anon but it might take a while...in the meantime though i welcome anyone to make designs of their own/draw art/whatever based on what i've done already lol

take these old byakuya's dragon form design sketches as apology

[boltlightning]

landfall: chapter 4

On a bright fateful morn, Jack Sparrow brings rumors of the Black Pearl and her crew of the damned to Port Royal. In theory, the ship should be no match for the dragon Tempest and his Captain Norrington — but the Pearl harbors dangerous shadows of her own. or: potc, but temeraire. multi-chapter wip, ~5.5k words

“This place used to be a den for some of those beasties,” Jack says. “Not like your big’un back in Port Royal, no, but the little wild gits. Rum runners took a chance and used this island as a cache. They came by, and I was able to barter passage off, after…” 

He emerges from the cellar with two bottles of rum in hand and stops short, locked in place by Elizabeth’s glare. “After a grand total of three days,” he finishes. He at least has the presence of mind to look embarrassed. Quickly, his eyes flit away, back down into the cellar. “Looks like they’re out of business now — be it by beasties or your bloody friend Norrington, or his bloody beastie. Or their bloody navy, I ‘spose. Pick your poison, eh?”

“So that’s it, then?” Elizabeth demands. “That’s the secret, grand adventure of the infamous pirate Captain Jack Sparrow? You spent three days lying on the beach drinking rum?”

Jack shrugs. “Welcome to the Caribbean, love.”

He pushes a bottle of rum into her hands and slinks off. With his teeth he jerks the cork from his bottle with a low pop, and promptly pours the contents into his mouth with all the restraint that a rainstorm waters a garden.

Elizabeth is learning that chiefly luck determines your survival in the Caribbean. Wit comes second, and in a distant third place is perseverance. Though severely lacking the foremost trait, she can lean on the latter two. She turns the cool, dark glass of the bottle in her hand, mulling.

(read on ao3 here!)