#at least it's only 3 days i guess...

[swuid]

they've got me scheduled to work solo after next week i think i'm gonna puke

[paracosmicka]

have doodle lol

functionally, i am alive, emotionally?? idk about that work has me crying almost everyday now chat idk if i can do this anymore

[deoidesign]

One of my first digital pieces (2010) versus one of my recent ones (2024)

We all start somewhere!

[vargaslovinghours]

Say it like you mean it

[pushing500]

He's oddly convincing for someone so bad at talking to people.

Lmao poor Xina. She's having a horrible time with the only two people on the planet who literally could not care less. Drink some coffee and walk it off, Xina. Good job.

And just to rub it in, Randy Random decides to make the day that much better for Mechi and Kwahu. They deserve it, after everything with Brandy and Mechi III that's been happening.

No relief for our unfortunate creepjoiner Xina, though. Poor gal.

Of course, Randy can't make things nice for us all the time. A hostile mech cluster will definitely spice up that little corner of the map for the next few days until we get around to dealing with it. I wonder how quickly the boys can research mortars...?

First | Next | Previous

[brown-little-robin]

what is up I'm back, I'm still doing bad due to the unemployment and the horror of having to feed myself into the American human-crushing machine and the fascism, but I'm hanging on!! !!

[st0neddew-valley]

lmao one time when i was sick i took a nyquil for the first time and i kept stressing about the hat man but i could only picture mr qi from stardew valley and that made it less concerning for me after a bit

[the-mad-owl]

Deeply surprised by how many more middle aged metalhead assholes the Ghost concert had than the Powerwolf concert.

[memento-morri-writes]

random snippet - birthday duels

aka Terrible Time Tuesday (yes, I posted parts of this yesterday. But the new parts, which is most of it, are fun! I promise!!)

Rook was not having a good time on Sunday, and this was before he died from a plethora of stab wounds. Would you believe me if I said this was one of the "best" times he's dealt with bad feelings? pov: Rook wordcount: 1.1k character(s): Rook (D&D), Tyra (NPC), Aki (Other PC) canon status: canon session rewrite trigger warnings: death mention, grief, guilt, self-hatred, very unhealthy coping mechanisms summary: on the birthday of his recently deceased friend, Rook struggles to deal with his emotions and winds up taking them out on his first mate, Tyra.

As the day wore on, the black cloud of grief that had settled over the ship grew thicker and more oppressive. Rook paced the deck, nearly vibrating with tension. It was almost suffocating, pressing down on him with the weight of a thousand regrets. 

Thoughts clawed at the back of his mind, bringing unwelcome reminders of the part he had played in Warren’s death. If things had gone differently, if he had been a little faster, a little smarter, would his friend still be here?

He shook his head rapidly, trying to shake off the guilt that clung to him with barbed claws. The others didn’t blame him. They’d made that point very clear. And yet, he still couldn’t help but blame himself. 

Wrenching his thoughts away from the dark pit they were circling, he marched up the stairs leading to the quarterdeck. Tyra stood at the helm, talking to Tempest. When she saw Rook, she trailed off. 

She opened her mouth in greeting, but before she could say a word, Rook spoke. “I know you’re more than capable of handling the crew, but how do I know you can hold your own in a fight?”

Tyra’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I can handle myself. I’m best with my pistol,” she tapped the beautifully carved handle emerging from the holster at her hip, “but I’m not too bad with a rapier.”

Rook made a contemplative sound. There was a long pause as he looked her up and down. “Show me.”

Drawing his rapier, he turned on his heel and descended to the deck, stepping onto the cargo hatch. The crew moved out of the way, clearing a space around him. Looking back up at Tyra, he beckoned her with his sword. 

Tyra exchanged an unreadable glance with Tempest, who stepped forwards to take the wheel as she slowly made her way down to the main deck. She positioned herself across from Rook. Hesitantly, she drew her sword, a curved cutlass that was shorter and thicker than his rapier, with a wide, flat blade.

Around them, the crew had started murmuring, hurriedly placing bets. Rook let their voices fade away, trying his best to clear his racing mind. He and Tyra stared at each other, time stretching out between them.

Then, in the blink of an eye, Rook lunged, sending his blade towards Tyra’s chest. She stepped back, parrying his strike with the flat of her blade. She tried to keep the momentum going, but he disengaged, dancing out of her reach. Now it was her turn to bridge the gap, lunging towards him. He knocked her blade aside with ease. 

Their blades clashed again and again as he effortlessly parried her every blow. She redoubled her efforts, deflecting his next strike. Drawing her arm back, she prepared to attack, leaving her torso unguarded. Rook struck. In a flash, he had his blade hovering over her chest. She froze.

In the background the crew exchanged money as the two stood there, gazes locked. Rook stepped back, raising his sword into a ready position. His heart pounded in his ears as he said, “Again.”

Tyra’s eyes widened, but she raised her sword. This time, she struck first, trying to gain the upper hand early. But it wasn’t long before he had her on the defensive, trying her best to hold him back.

She blocked him again, and this time, instead of pulling back for another strike, he stepped forwards, pushing his sword down her blade. With a flick of his wrist, he knocked the cutlass from her hand.

She stepped back, breathing heavily. 

Rook crossed to where her sword lay, and with one quick motion from his foot, sent it flying into his hand. He held it out to her, hilt first. Reluctantly, she took it. 

“Again.”

This time, he didn’t even give her a second to gather her bearings before he struck, targeting her with several blows in quick succession. Immediately she fell onto her back foot, desperately trying to match his furious pace.

He kept pushing her back, off of the cargo hatch that had been their arena until her foot caught and she stumbled. He pressed on and she fell, back hitting the wood of the deck with an audible thud as her sword clattered from her hand. Rook stood over her, blade hovering inches above her throat. He stared down at her, heart pounding. 

A gentle tap on his shoulder caused him to whirl around, striking at the source of the gesture. The tip of his blade pierced a translucent blue hand, causing it to dissolve into the air. Behind it, Aki stared at him, eyes wide.

“Rook, stop this.” He frowned. “It isn’t healthy.”

“I don’t care.”

Aki’s brow furrowed. “It isn’t helping you.” When Rook said nothing, he added, “Look at her, she’s exhausted.” He gestured towards Tyra.

Rook turned to look at his first mate, who was slowly getting to her feet. She was disheveled, her clothes rumpled and her locs in disarray. Her chest rose and fell as she panted for breath. Aki was right, she was tired. 

“Let her go,” Aki said gently.

Whatever he had been trying to do by challenging her, it wasn’t working. He was breathing more heavily than normal, but it was more due to the tightness in his chest than a difficult fight. His muscles trembled, not from effort or exhaustion, but from tension.

Rook squared his shoulders. “Fine.” He sheathed his sword and turned away. He could feel the crew’s eyes on him as he headed towards the ratlines leading up to the crow’s nest. Ignoring them, he grabbed the rope and began to climb.

Though it had been years since he’d climbed the rigging, it came back to him easily, his body’s memory of six years of sailing guiding him up to the small basket-like platform near the top of the mast. A member of the crew sat inside. As Rook’s head came into view, she started, eyes wide.

“Get out.”

She nodded and hurriedly clambered over the edge, scurrying down the rigging towards the deck.

Rook sank onto the floor of the crow’s nest, tipping his head back until it touched the low wooden wall surrounding the platform. Closing his eyes, he breathed in, then out, forcing himself to slow down.

He wasn’t sure if it was the gentle rocking of the ship, or the wind on his face, or the sun on his skin, or simply the distance from the deck and all the gloom that hung over it, but slowly the tension faded from his body. 

[potpourrifandoms]

Gracie's Ridiculous T'au Comic, Part 1

So, I've posted little out-of-context bits and pieces of my T'au comic passion project on this blog before (here, here, and here, with character introductions and stuff here), and I thought that maybe I should post some in-context pages of the comic.

Please bear in mind that these were drawn about six years ago now (how time flies!!), and they're not as good as my more recent art. They're also extremely unpolished and not lore-accurate, but they make me laugh, so perhaps someone else out there will like them, too. This was also before I had much of the plot worked out, so I promise it gets better later on.

Anyway, without further ado...

there are like three sketchbooks of this if anybody wants more lmao

First (this is the first) | Next

[vaguely-concerned]

"I'm rather lucky," said Wimsey, with that apologetic air which seems forced on anybody accused of too much wealth. "I have an extraordinarily faithful and intelligent man, who looks after me like a mother."

I love it when a book looks me in the eye and goes 'yes my friend you are so completely and utterly correct and valid and always right well done'. bunter DOES look after him like a mother I am literally always saying this!!!!

(that note from peter's uncle where he describes bunter like... peter returned from the war with the man bunter, who was and is devoted to him. I have been thinking about this for weeks now. what a thing to say. what a way to sum up a situation a man and a relationship. *gazing pensively into the air with my chin resting on my interlaced fingers* was and is devoted to him.....)

[itspileofgoodthings]

I showed my students some Rosings scenes yesterday and in my last period class I let it play a little longer so that it continued into Darcy’s first proposal (even though we hadn’t read it yet) and it played all the way up until the exact moment that Lizzy drew breath to answer him. The bell rang and then they shouted at me in a unison of disappointment and disbelief anskskskskksks.

[br1ghtestlight]

oj in season four when he meets the 500 paper alts mephone made for the auditions <3

[antiadvil]

bro i'm so tired of having a headache and trying to manage having a headache and also it being 90 fucking degrees hello it is june what's up with that

[lokh]

oughh i wanted to do a cute laishuro take on the blu ray extras (what if laios had been eaten instead) but lets be honest. they absolutely would not have made it as far without laios

[alistairian]

Going into DAO completely blind: what do these dialogue options do, why is this game so brown, why are these sidequests so difficult to find, why am I repeating the same combat over and over, why are these romance scenes so stiff and awkward to watch, I accidentally missed recruiting a whole companion, I can't tell if the tone is supposed to be moody or boderline parody, uh does that monster have 6 boobs?

Going into DA2 completely blind: why do all these companion characters look and feel like a 13y/o's OC, why do the dialogue options not match what my character is saying, why is this fantasy game set almost completely within the confines of a drab city with repeat settings, why are the characters all playersexual, why can't we roleplay as other races/different backgrounds, having a bunch of mage characters walking around performing magic in the open makes no sense, why are they trying to "both sides" the templar/mage conflict, why are these characters all hanging out when they barely tolerate each other/actively hate each other, etc....

Going into DAI completely blind: why are they trying to humanize/redeem templars, why is there a pro-circle mage and two anti-dalish elf companions, why are certain romances locked by gender/race, why did they retcon the whole elven faith, why is this game so religion/chantry focused, why is the true end-game locked behind a paywall, why should I have to waste so much time in these giant highly saturated open world maps, why is it so focused on politics and allies over personal relationships, etc...

Going into DAV completely blind: why is the writing and dialogue so simple/YA, why are there less roleplay options, why are we retconning the antivan crows, why is there so much modern language/fewer religious references, why are the companions so goddamn agreeable and nice, where is all the templar/mage conflict, why are the romances less sexy/substantial, why does it hand-hold so much and spell out consequences, why-

Because the game is brand new and hasn't settled into your brain as canon yet. It's a decent game, by no means worse than any of the other entries and doesn't actually deviate from canon/lore any more than the others did when they came out, only this one had a 10 year gap to contend with. I think people really underestimate how much their brains have filled in these gaps over the years.