#ponytail and arrow

[kaettytropmignon]

of all the sisters i do have, you could be another

[delicateseraphs]

A silly ask, but i’m in the olympic mood! Since Ana has archery skills = to those who are in the olympics, who would be her biggest fans if she was in the olympic? I’m just imagining the Mikaelsons’ and friends opening the tv one day, just to see her on tv, emulating badass energy like Kim Ye-ji or Yusuf Dikec 😎

i don't know when i can next update, so i'll definitely indulge you anon!!

so, ana is v good at archery and sharpshooting simply due to her familial background. she prefers a moving target (she's fire at fps games even though she thinks they're boring), but it's fine if they're still. i don't think she'd ever agree to be an olympian because working in front of a crowd is her personal nightmare, but say that she for some reason does....

her biggest fans would definitely be kol, marcel, and surprisingly elijah. the thought of any potential misjudgements or cheating would incense kol and he's definitely tracking ana's progress through the games. marcel is just a hype man through and through; wants ana to win just to say he knows an olympic gold medallist. elijah is a fan of archery/sharpshooting because it's one of the few sports that vampires wouldn't have a natural advantage in (besides strength for the bow) and would be extremely supportive of ana. he'd also understand her distaste for losing (she doesn't care about winning, just prefers the relief of not losing).

klaus, finn, and rebekah are supportive, but they only care because ana is involved. there are other olympic sports they prefer, or they just don't care for the olympics at all (i mean, they can all run faster, jump higher, etc than most olympians already). they all respect the sport because they grew up around archery, but they don't care for it as fans.

among ana's friends, her biggest supporter would be jasmine and gabriel. they'd be constantly posting her on their socials, hyping her up, saying that she'll be the gold medallist, and breaking records. jamila, heejin, and koji obviously expect for her to do well because she's motivated by the idea of not embarrassing herself, but they all have different olympic sports they prefer keeping track of.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Alt Rock to the Rescue

[Inspired by this art]

"...Alright, I might have an idea," John Constantine, who was seemingly busy texting someone for the past ten - or twenty, no one really counted - minutes, puts his phone away and snaps his head up.

The room falls silent. Superman blinks in surprise, Diana frowns slightly, and Batman's mouth is pressed into a thin, stubborn line. Flash recovers first.

"You have an idea?" He huffs a short, disbelieving laugh, "No offense, but I'm not sure a magic trick can help us against, you know, an alien fleet." He gestures to one of the screens on the wall, where said fleet is approaching Earth on live.

The rest of the Leaguers present don't exactly agree with him, at least not verbally, but the mood in the room shifts from tense, anxious alarm to an almost palpable annoyance. To be honest, no one was even sure why or how John Constantine of all people ended up in the meeting. It's not like JLD could actually help with an ongoing, massive invasion that was about to happen in less than three- Correction, less than two and a half hours. Besides, it's John Constantine. The man that never shows up unless outright bullied into submission.

The magician winces briefly and starts rummaging through his pockets under the weight of everyone's attention.

"I said I might," he amends gruffly, getting a cigarette out of one of his pockets and sticking it in his mouth but not lighting it. Seems like it wasn't what he was looking for, though, because after that, the man keeps going through the various places on his coat, patting himself down. "I know someone who can deal with it. Granted, I already owe him a great deal, but he won't say no," he pauses and grimaces, "At least I hope he won't."

"I do not think it would be wise to call upon gods in our situation," Diana tries carefully, but John pays her little mind.

"Or demons," Green Arrow adds, crossing his arms on his chest, "I'm not selling my soul to get rid of some rocket ships or whatever they are."

Now, that makes the magician bark a laugh. Or, maybe it's the piece of lime green paper - a sticky note, actually - that he finally finds in the depths of his pockets.

"Oh, your soul's gonna stay where it is."

"Constantine-" Batman starts, but John cuts him off instantly.

"Mine will stay wherever it is as well," he reassures the man, "It's not that kind of entity." And with that, he promptly sets the green note on fire - green fire - and uses it as a lighter for his cigarette.

The next moment after the note is reduced to ash, there's a shift in the air in front of him, and, before any of the heroes have a split second to react, there are two people floating in the middle of the room, backs pressed to each other.

Two teenagers, to be exact. A girl and a boy, both of them so pale that their skin looks gray, and both dressed in grunge, like they just came from a rock concert. Yet, that's where the 'normal' parts of their looks end - the boy's hair is so white it looks blinding, and moves in the air slowly, undeterred by gravity, and the girl's hair is neon blue, her ponytail flickering up like a flaming torch.

The boy nearly topples over as the girl leans her back on him harder and kicks her feet up slightly. The movement is awkward, like both of them were taken by surprise by the sudden relocation, and maybe the guess about the rock concert was not so far from reality; there are drumsticks in the boy's hands, and the girl is holding an electric guitar in her hands.

"The fuck?.." The boy asks no one in particular, as the girl makes an annoyed groan and straightens up, still floating in the air. Her guitar makes an aborted sound. Meanwhile, the boy's eyes land on Constantine, and his whole face scrunches in disgust, "John, for the love of Ancients, I was in the middle of something."

The girl takes a look around while her friend is busy expressing his annoyance and elbows him in the side, "Oi, look, it's the whole Comic Con in the flesh here."

Green Arrow sputters. Flash makes a wordless but very offended sound. The floating boy looks around, taking stock of faces in the room, and the disgust on his face morphs into exasperation.

He turns back to Constantine, "Really? I thought I told you I want no part in your furry parade."

"Alien invasion," the magician decidedly doesn't address any of that, instead pointing his finger to the screen behind him. "Thought you ought to know," he adds, a bit of sarcasm bleeding into his tone.

"Ooh, is it my turn to be your world saving buddy, Phantom?" The girl perks up, turning around and draping herself over the boy's shoulders with a giddy laugh. Her guitar shifts to hang in the air on her side all by itself.

The boy - Phantom - rolls his eyes. Bright green, glowing eyes that definitely don't belong to a human being.

"If I had a nickel every time I had to save the world, I'd probably be able to buy myself my own guitar," he grumbles and looks back to Constantine. "Do I, like, have to? Right now? You know, I don't get paid for this bullshit, and the studio we rented for rehearsal has an hourly rate, so if we can postpone this for about an hour and a half, that'd be real nice."

"The fleet is only two hours away from Earth," Batman supplies suddenly, and, when both floating kids turn to look at him, adds, "I can pay for your next rehearsal. Or a few of them." Evidently, Phantom's comment about nickels struck a nerve. Or, maybe, the man just likes throwing money at any teenager he encounters. Who knows.

The boy blinks, taken aback by the proposition. But the girl grins, sharp and wicked, and shoves her drummer - if the drumsticks are to tell - in the side again.

"Hey, free studio. Better than the last time."

That snaps Phantom out of his stupor, and he groans, "Don't remind me." With a weary sigh, he runs a hand through his hair and leans back in the air, almost like reclining on it. "Okay, fine, sure. Do you want them, like, away from Earth- um, this is Earth, right?" He turns to Superman, surprisingly, looking for confirmation, and the man nods, thrown off guard. The boy nods back and continues, "Or you want them blasted into oblivion, or what?"

"Whatever suits your mood, kid," John waves his hand at the screen as if making a welcoming gesture, "But all the aliens gotta go."

Unexpectedly, that makes the girl's grin even wider, and she reaches for her guitar, floating around Phantom and looking him in the face. The look she gives him speaks of mischief, and the boy seems to understand what she's implying before she as much as opens her mouth.

"Ember, no," he pounts a drumstick at her.

"Ember, yes," she wiggles her eyebrows, "Come on, your wail is boring as fuck as it is, why not spice it up?"

"I'm not wailing," Phantom scrunches his nose, "My throat will hurt for weeks."

Ember runs her fingers over the strings of her guitar, and it makes a comparatively quiet, vibrating sound. A few cords shoot out of the bottom of her instrument, like ones used to plug an electric guitar to an amp. She raises her eyebrows, still looking at Phantom, a silent conversation between them.

Then, the boy huffs and rolls his eyes, twirling a drumstick in his fingers.

"Fine."

The cords fly at him like snakes, aiming at his neck. None of the Leaguers watching the encounter get to say even a word as the metal pins insert themselves into the boy's neck, acting like some twisted kind of collar. Phantom doesn't even flinch.

Ember's guitar, on the other hand, reacts to the connection quite violently: it makes a high-pitched sound all on its own and then changes color from black and blue to white and green, with lightning bolts instead of flames for design. The girl's ponytail flares up higher as she softly murmurs in delight.

Then, she turns to the people around them and smirks, "Which way is the evil alien fleet?"

Flash wordlessly points his finger to the right and up. The girl nods in satisfaction, turning in the air so her guitar is facing that way.

"You might want to cover your ears," Phantom advises, a sly smile on his face and a glimmer of anticipation to his eyes. John Constantine follows that direction immediately, and, taking his move as the best course of action, the other heroes follow as well. Except Batman, who only narrows his eyes and looks at both teens in the air apprehensively. Phantom shrugs, "Or don't, I don't hold any responsibility for your shattered eardrums."

"Pick up where we left off, then," Ember tells him, and the boy blinks:

"Wait, I thought you'd just-"

[For some wholesome experience, put your headphones in and listen to 'KULT' by Jisaiah, grandson, and Steve Aoki]

But the girl has already started a tune, nodding her head to the rhythm of it and slowly picking up the pace. Phantom huffs, but doesn't protest any further, floating up as much as the cords allow him and spinning a drumstick in his hand.

"Maybe I should join a cult

At least they'll tell me it's not my fault

That the world's a fucking circus

That my life feels fucking worthless," he spits the words out with a sneer, slowly rotating in the air until he is hanging upside down. His eyes are closed, and his voice becomes more and more staticky with every new sound. The volume of Ember's guitar gets up, higher and higher, until the walls and the floor of the room around them start to vibrate.

Then, Ember's voice joins Phantom's, and the boy brings his drumsticks down on thin air, mimicking the moves. Only, even with the actual drums not there, the air around him ripples like they are, and they all can hear the beat.

"Maybe I should join a cult

At least they'll tell me it's not my fault

When it all comes crashing down

We'll see who's laughing," both kids pause, just for a beat, and Ember uses that split second to spin the volume knob to the max before strumming her guitar in one wide, sharp move.

"NOW!"

The sound wave is not only palpable, it's visible. A wave of toxic green ripples through the air, knocking everyone present - sans the two kids in the air - to the ground, and goes beyond. The screens on the walls flicker and turn off, sending sparks in the air, and the comms give off loud, screeching noises, and-

The following silence feels almost deafening.

Batman, unsurprisingly, is the first one to stand back on his feet and see a few of the screens come back online.

Just in time to see that same green wave of... sound? energy? power?.. decimate the entire fleet like a wet cloth over a chalkboard. One moment, the spaceships were there, and the next they are gone, wiped out of existence.

Ember laughs, leaning back and almost doing a backflip in the air.

"That was nice, dipshit!" She shoves Phantom in the shoulder, and the boy snorts, plucking the cords out of his skin and grinning.

"Yeah," he agrees with a smile, not even looking at the screens around, "Maybe we should try rehearsing in space next time. Sing to the stars and all that crap."

"Sing to the stars?" Ember raises her eyebrows mockingly as the rest of the heroes scramble to their feet, bemoaning their ringing ears. "Na-ah," she clicks her tongue and turns to Batman, "You still up for paying for our studio?"

The man just grunts in a semblance of affirmation.

"Sweet," the girl grins and offers Phantom a hand for a high five, which he returns instantly. "Cheers to the world being saved once again!"

The boy just rolls his eyes and turns to Constantine, "Next time, be a dear and text me before summoning, or I'm going to sell your soul to Morpheus, and who knows what he'll do with you."

John Constantine grimaces. "I did," he offers grudgingly.

But both unearthly teenagers are already gone without a trace.

[Edit: I want everyone to know there's ART now!!!]

[Edit 2: There's more art!!!]

[todays-xkcd]

Look, you can't complain about this after giving us so many scenarios involving N locked chests and M unlabeled keys.

D&D Combinatorics [Explained]

Transcript

[Cueball, Megan, Ponytail, White Hat, and Knit Cap are sitting at a table. Everyone is looking at Cueball. Ponytail is facepalming. The table is covered in sheets of paper and assorted dice.] Cueball: I grab 2 of the 10 arrows without looking and fire them, hoping I didn't grab one of the 5 cursed ones. Did I? Ponytail: Sigh. Umm. Okay. Ponytail: Roll... Uh... Hang on... Ponytail: Roll 3d6 and a d4. You need... 16 or better to avoid the cursed arrows.

[Caption below the panel:] I got way more annoying to play D&D with once I learned that our DM has a combinatorics degree and can't resist puzzles.

[itachi86]

i like the count's coat

[rhiangalaxy]

Our resident snake boy! Character chosen by this week's poll! (+ a bonus og design sketch below the cut :>)

[ID: A Scum Villain Drawing. To the right is a design of Zhuzhi Lang, he is standing with his hands clasped in front of him and a green snake is wrapped around one of his wrists with a happy expression. ZZL has a demure :3 face with slighly messy bangs and long hair tied back with multiple braids and a low ponytail. Two arrows are pointing to him, one pointing to his gold and black outer robe states 'Tianlang's old robe' whilst the other simply states 'Very tol but lanky.' To his left are characters drawn in chibi style. ZZL princess carries Shen Qingqiu with an excited flushed expression going "Hello Master Shen!" To which SQQ in his arms with an exasperated but flushed closed eye expression responds "Hi Xizhi lang..." Luo Binghe in the corner behind them looks very angry and puffed out yelling "HEY". An arrow points to ZZL that says 'Bride-Stealing (it happens at least once a month)' The caption of this part is "If ZZL lived post-canon:" End ID]

[ID: A Scum Villain Doodle. ZZL drawn in chibi style, slightly hunched over with a nervous :3 expression and his hands clasped together. End ID]

[eevee-d]

Remember Gerson taught Undyne! And now on his battle, we have him with the same ponytail as her! and he has a Justice hammer like Spear of Justice and same arrow game-mode (green heart) + the theme too

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

"WHOS YOUR FAVORITE HERO"

Bio: Wb!Reader x Mark Grayson. Just thought of this while eating chicken tenders and fries (and yes, I am five years old). Anywho, I'm sick and tired of the disposable black girlfriend trope, and I feel like a geeky reader would work great with Mark.

"Thirty dollars!" Mark yelped, looking at the Science Dog omnibus. He literally buckled to his knees in the comic book shop. He sadly pulled out his wallet, pulling out his credit card with a small tear in his eye. "Don't you own the whole catalog already?" you chuckled, holding a Power Rangers comic in your hand. You and Mark were planning this hangout for months, and finally, it happened. You traveled all the way from Yuck, Gotham, New Jersey, just to see your online buddy, who crumbles when looking at price tags. "Want me to pay for them?" you smirked, holding Bruce's unlimited black card that clattered when it fell to the floor. "You do that for me?" He fake-blushed with a pouty face, acting like an anime girl. "Anything for my babygirl," you chuckled.

Mark smiles, getting all his comics, figurines, and sweet prize of $0 thanks to you. "Is there anything your dad's card can't buy?" he questions, staring at the stuff in the bag like a kid peeking at presents on Christmas Eve. "It can't buy him a soul, but yeah, it can buy literally anything. That's why it says 'Ultimate'," you flash the card in his face, making him stare at the big, bolded "Ultimate" sign pressed neatly on the black card. "God, I feel like a sugar baby at this point." "So you admit I'm your alpha?" Mark freezes mid-step, giving you the meanest side-eye you blame yourself for teaching him. "Jeez, you just love to kill a girl's vibe," rolling your eyes, "you killing the vibe by calling yourself an alpha!" You stopped and posed, "Do I not look alpha?"

You wore the most obnoxious graphic T-shirt from the movie Superbad. It had the McLovin ID card, not to mention you were wearing jorts with Green Lantern knee socks and your locks tied up in a messy ponytail. It's hard to believe you were Bruce Wayne's daughter; you dressed like a kid whose mom let them dress up for school once. "Yes, very alpha-like..." They should have never let you allowed to have adult money. The two of you were laughing and making a ruckus in the town square. Yeah, they should have never allowed the two of you to have adult money.

Walking through downtown without a care in the world, a billboard showed the newest hero, Invincible, going against his latest villain. You stopped to stare, marking a stop in the process. He finds himself trying to contain a blush. "So... that invincible guy seems pretty cool, huh?" he said, leaning into you just a little. "Nah, not really," an arrow pierced his chest when you said that. "He's kind of lame." Okay, shoot him while he's down, I guess. "I mean, who names themselves Invincible but then gets beat down almost every fight? That's like naming myself Invisible, but only my arms disappear." Ok, beat him down with a baseball bat. You turn your head to face him, and he looks like a wounded puppy. You suppress a smile.

"Well, his suit is nice," you mention, halfheartedly, and his face lights up brighter than the streetlights. "Really?" You felt like those people on a sitcom who make awestruck sounds. "Yeah, it's pretty cool. The detail is noticeable, but it's not ostentatious like most superhero suits; I think it's cool." He's literally beaming when you say this. "Yeah?" You nod your head. "But it would be way cooler if he had a catchphrase—you know, like how Batman screams 'vengeance!' or how Superman represents 'hope.' The guy needs a slogan." "Slogan like what?" He raised an eyebrow at you. "I don't know, maybe he could scream, 'I'm vincing it!' at the top of his lungs while beating bad guys." His face changed to an expression of disgust, as if you had personally offended him.

"There is no way in hell I— I mean, invincible is yelling, 'I'm vincing it.'" His face was almost red trying to explain himself. "I'm vincing it, Mark," you say nonchalantly. He immediately gets grossed out. "Get away from me!" he shouts, speed walking away, just to walk faster and scream louder, "I'm vincing, Markus!" Now you're chasing him down, screaming that in the town square. How romantic!

[the-kr8tor]

EEEEEEEEP GET ME SOME DILF! HOBIE TO MUNCH ON!!

Elder berries for my Beloved Bobart Brown with ❣️!! (I had a temporary war w myself trying to choose between ❣️ or ⭐) where R is chasing BBB (beloved Bobart Brown) cuz she has a big fat crush on him while he's like, "uhhh, you're cute but you do know that I'm way to old for you?" but R is a little hard headed y'know.

Hope I'm not asking for too much🥲

Watch me pull a "Too Sweet + Guys my age + Older + Favorite" combo for the next whole hour or so:3

AAHHHHHHH OLDER HOBIE! Thank you for requesting, rozey!

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, older! Hobie, cw alcohol mention, awkward flirting, fluff!

A/N: Special thanks to @yumeaoka-chan bc their comment abt aaron single-handedly inspired this one 🤭

One year celebration 🎉

The giggling and the chatter of your friends are muffled in your ears as you watch him pass the doors of the pub. It's as if cupid himself struck an arrow right at your heart. He looks fit, like he just strutted out of a runway and into the dim pub. He wears leather well, jacket practically sculpted to his form. His hair is in long braids, all tied together in a ponytail that has the small silver charms clicking against each other. Then you spot the grey hairs weaved around the pretty braids, white hair running from the sides, earning him the title of a silver fox in your heart. Then there's his eyes, amber, soft and kind against the yellow lights of the pub. He has crow’s feet around those golden eyes, a testament that he has smiled a lot in his life.

As he strides towards the bar, his posture casual, hands tucked inside his pockets and with the nonchalance of someone who owns the place. Judging by how he paid for the single pint he ordered, that's not the case. But the curt nod exchanged by the handsome stranger and the bartender says that he's a regular. He just has that air around him that turns heads, admiration or something more as you see some patrons glance his way— all having the same shining eyes you probably have right now.

You purse your lips when he wraps his lithe ringed fingers around the glass, but before he sips, he blinks, head craning to look in your direction.

Caught in the act, you almost squeak, hands gripping at the glass of your forgotten drink as the handsome older stranger tilts his head, a smile curling on the corner of his lips. His eyes seem to gaze at you for hours, but with a parting chuckle from him, he turns back towards his lone drink.

“Shit.” You curse under your breath, palms clammy as you swallow thickly just from how you remembered his eyes meeting your own.

Your friends seem to notice your obvious gawking, and Betty, your best friend, taps your shoulder with a raise of her neat brow. “If you don't talk to him now, I will.”

“Don’t you dare.” Glaring, she giggles, pushing you off the booth until you're tethering off the edge of the rough leather seat. “Betty!” You whisper yell, gripping the end of the table.

“Go,” she continues to urge you, pinching your sides as you hop off the seat with a wince. “Go use your pretty girl charm and get your old man!”

“What charm?” Trying to sit back down, she quickly slides over to your seat, blocking you. “Betty!” Your friends stifle a laugh.

“How about a bet, to encourage you to put your pretty ass out there, hm?” She pokes your stomach, still sitting in your seat. You roll your eyes, pushing her away with your knee to no avail. “If you get his number, then we'll buy you that book you've been raving about.”

“Really?” You perk up, staring at your friends as they nod with a chuckle. “You better not be fucking with me, Betty, that's a really expensive book, it's limited edition.”

Betty almost falters. “Well, if we split it then it won't be, right?” She gets a few reluctant nods. “Besides, do you think you'll get his number?”

“For the book? Yes, bonus I get myself a boyfriend that would go to the store to buy me pads— and yes, I'm looking at you Anna and your Chad, who thinks wings are actually chicken wings.” A round of guffaws echoes out as Anna nods and sends you off with a pat on your behind.

As you start crossing the distance towards the mysterious hot stranger, you start to feel the nerves ebbing through you. Your hands are like waterfalls, and your legs feel like jelly once you get near enough to smell his cologne. Not overpowering that would give you the ick, it's citrus with a hint of fresh linen and mint.

You slide on the stool beside him, not knowing what to do with your hands as you put it on the counter then immediately change your mind and put it over your lap.

He raises a pierced brow, side eyeing you over the rim of his glass. “You’re punchin’ above your age range, love.”

Fuck, even his voice sends shivers down your arms. A good kind of shiver, not the type that you get when there's a scary movie playing.

“Really? I thought you were my age.” That's a shit reply, you thought to yourself, cringing. You close your eyes then swallow down your nerves before exhaling and craning your neck to finally look at him. “So, what's your poison?”

A smile slowly spreads on his pierced lips, eyes roaming around the curve of your jaw before meeting your own. “A girl after my own heart.”

“I'm not a girl, I'm a woman.” That sounded better in your head. You bite your lip to suppress a pained groan as you try to flag down the bartender.

He looks you up and down before flicking his eyes to yours once again. “Clearly.”

Your cheeks are on fire. Not getting a word out, the bartender ignores you.

He swallows the last of his drink, placing the glass down before flicking his wrist, index and middle raised as he calls the bartender effortlessly. You're in awe as the bartender walks over to him.

“A whiskey, neat for me and a cherry daiquiri for the…” he smirks, eyes glancing at you for a moment. “...Woman.”

You huff in your seat, cheeks still aflame. “How'd you know that's my drink?”

“Saw you cradlin’ it while you were oglin’ me.” The drinks slide on the counter, and he catches them before handing you your own. “A cherry daiquiri for the woman.” He teases with a glint in his eyes.

“Fine, I get it, I'm not your type.” Your shoulders slump, inhaling deeply and accepting defeat. “At least let me pay for the drinks.”

“Now, I didn't say anythin' ‘bout that.” His eyes grow softer, head tilting as he smiles, a genuine one, not a playful one. “Who said you're not my type?”

“Y–You, wait– no, I did. Yeah I did.” You stutter, almost fumbling off your seat as he grins at you.

“That right?” He rolls his shoulders, finger tapping the glass of his amber drink. “I figured I owe you a conversation with you payin’ and the book on the line.”

Chuckling nervously, you play with the hem of your dress. He keeps gazing at you like you're the only person in the whole pub, like all of his attention is on you. “W–What book?” You're caught red handed.

“The book that you'll get if you manage to get my number. What kind of book is it then?” He takes a sip, and you find yourself ogling at his bobbing Adam's apple.

You shake your thoughts away, taking your own drink and sipping at it, all the while trying not to choke from the pretty sight in front of you. “It's a new edition of my favourite book. It has a new cover, and they only made like a hundred of them.”

“Shit, is it the one from S. Collins?”

Your eyes widen, expression lighting up from the mention. “Yes! It's by her! Have you read it?”

“Read it? Love, I read all of ‘em.”

Grinning, the two of you fall into a smooth and casual conversation. From talking about books to everything under the sun. He's easy to talk to, smart and not just easy on the eyes. It's as if you've known him your whole life, and based on his easy smile, he feels the same. You don't realize it's been an hour until Betty tosses a straw at you and taps her watch.

“Shit,” you turn back towards him and his shoulders slouch with slight disappointment. “I have to go, thank you by the way. It's—” your heart already aches. “It was nice.” As you toss some bills on the counter, he stops you with his hand bracelet around your wrist gently.

“You forgot somethin', love.”

“What's that?”

“My name, it's Hobie, Hobie Brown.”

Your shyness peeks out as you tell him your name. Hobie smiles back, nodding and hiding his face by taking a napkin on the counter and writing something on it. Wait, was he flustered?

“And my number, call me when you get your book.”

[pencilpat]

The Scout RED v. BLU sketch pages were fun, I might keep doing that until I run out of steam. Take some Snipers.

Like the Scout ones, some brief related headcanons below.

RED:

-Likes bugs a lot. Will go out of his way to pick up and play with even the 'ugliest' or most dangerous ones. Fond of roaches and beetles. If he could wake up tomorrow and be a beetle, he'd finally be content with life.

-Smokes, both tobacco and weed. He tries to not smoke too much weed though, because if he smells like it he would be easy to track down during battle. Tobacco really helps his nerves and paranoid thinking.

-Sewed animal teeth onto his own hat. He likes his hat a lot, it was a gift from his father. Hunting also reminds him of spending time with his dad & mum, and he likes to go hunt birds to cook, or to go fishing to pass the time off work.

-Enjoys a GNC look sometimes. Considers himself a bit of a girl too, but doesn't really know how to express that to the people around him. "I'm probably nonbinary but I've got a job so idrc about that rn."

-Pierced his ears himself. Has longer, unruly hair that he contains with ponytails and braids. Is very tan because of spending so much of his time outside. Generally dresses in darker clothes during work, as it makes him feel like he blends into the shadows (even though it really makes him stand out a bit more). Always has a slight smile, like he's making fun of you in his head.

-Rarely seen without a weapon of some sort on his person. Also pretty much never seen without his sunglasses on.

BLU:

-Peeked through the brain-scooping-induced veil once and realized he had the same face as someone on the other team. So they scooped his brain even more til it got muddled up. Now he gets frequent, intense migraines and struggles with his balance, and with limb control on his left side. It mostly affects his legs, meaning he can still snipe with good accuracy. He sometimes uses a cane if he feels particularly weak that day.

-Hates his face but can't remember why without his head pounding. He can barely even see it, it feels like. Like a big pixelated mass where it should be. So he covers it a lot, especially during battles and missions.

-Hats make him feel more anonymous. Ranges from very cool ones to the dorkiest bucket hats you've ever seen.

-Likes fishing and nature walks to look for birds. Also goes hunting in the tundra around the BLU base pretty much daily. It's good stress relief.

-Plays guitar, pretty decently too. Also good for stress relief.

-Uses a bow and arrows about as much as he uses his rifle. He hand carves his arrows, wood carving is a very satisfying hobby for him.

-Always seems a little pallid and grey in the face. Especially compared to the deep tan RED Sniper has.

-Cuts or shaves down his hair regularly, only lets it grow back a little. Clean-shaven unless he's doing terribly that week. Has a couple scars that stick around even after respawning. Wears bracelets and necklaces often, though less so during work. Only smiles when he's alone, and in general behaves coldly towards his team.

-Doesn't smoke or drink. Hates the feeling of an altered consciousness.

-Paid his own money for a gun he thought looked better. He's getting tired of being on the losing team all the time.

Bonus

[soulmatesinc-if]

A light-hearted interactive fiction game about soulmates, chances and choices, written in ChoiceScript.

|| PLAY HERE || [149k]

|| extra content ||

Here at Soulmates Inc we specialize in chance meetings!

Love happens.

It takes by the storm. It is lucky, it is cruel, it makes no sense, it elevates. It is beautiful, it rears its ugly head, then it is beautiful once again. Now that, humans can manage on their own.

Soulmate-grade connection is an entirely different brand. Enter you. That's your brand. It requires dedicated labor. Whimsical meetings. Nuance.

As a soul-link, you arrange for those destined matches to happen using the powers of glamor at your disposal. An ancient practice, really, though, as with everything, it has evolved and happily marched with the times. You work out of an office, have a phone plan, a lease, and a favorite restaurant. Your boss is not a half-naked man with a bow and arrows but a fashionably dressed man who goes to a gym and drives an electrical Mustang.

It is nice. Modern.

Just one rule. The only rule, in fact. A scripture, if you will: never interact with a soul directly.

Which is precisely why your most recent half-match staring at your confused face is so damn bad. Worse yet, they can see right through your glamor for some reason.

Now what?..

love is all around you but it does not have to be for you: play as aro, ace, bi, gay or straight. Your romantic prospects are three, but each has a story to tell

explore who you are: a firm and enthusiastic believer, a burned-out office worker, or a skeptical soul-link questioning their purpose

use and evolve your soul-link powers: Empathy and Shroud

keep up with your job duties and bring people together while trying to protect your employer from a greater looming threat

someone is throwing around heavy words like 'destiny', but dealing with existential questions is entirely optional!

Amber | Andrew Wyatt Once a high-performer soul-link, they flew too close to the sun and snooped around where one does not snoop around. Having fallen from grace at a company that believes in chances, Wyatt is back on probation, though under your supervision. The light is snuffed out of their eyes, and instead of being a firm believer, Wyatt now drips disillusioned pearls of what they think is wisdom.

A languid redhead who wears sunglasses more often than not.

Samuel | Samantha C. Powell Sam has a steady job, does weekly family visits and always parks the bike properly. How do you learn that? Sam is also your sparkling new charge, a common everyperson, a salt of the earth—nope, not that simple at all! You cannot seem to find their soulmate (never happens) and they can see through your glamor (never happens either). To be fair, Sam is freaked out by it, too.

Your sporty charge in a wrinkle-free T-shirt with a mess of locs held back by a band.

Martin | Mia Romero A hectic ball of energy that is a human person, they are passionate about their distaste for your employer's business and are happy to go in length about it. Romero is messy, yet strangely put together in their belief: a hurricane that may sweep you off your feet if you are not careful enough. They know things, things no human should. You should probably report that to your boss...

A city dweller with hair tied sloppily in a short low ponytail, perfectly matched with dramatic eyebags.

[artbysconnor]

The DnD party from Wildlife SMP in Episode 1! I just couldn't help trying my hand at these designs, since it combines two of my favorite things currently (Dungeons and Dragons and the Life Series) . Lizzie - Goliath Champion Fighter

BigB - Halfling Circle of Dreams Druid

Ren - Fairy College of Lore Bard

Jimmy - Half-Elf Oath of Redemption (Or Oath of Glory?) Paladin

See below for design notes!

Lizzie:

I knew Lizzie would be a Goliath, and was torn between giving her a martial class or making her a War Cleric. In the end, party composition won out, and she ended up a Champion Fighter, but I kept the half skirt design from her cleric thumbnails and gave her a big ol' mace. Given her pink hair is so iconic I didn't want to go full bald, so I made her hair long along the scalp and tied into two buns and a ponytail (not realistic, but it works in the drawing so I'm sticking with it!). I tried to put butterfly wings in her tattoos by her eyes, and added some flowers to further the fairy vibes on her armor and bring in the light blues from her skin as well.

BigB:

I probably was the least sure about what race and class I wanted to go with for BigB. He fluctuated between a Twilight Cleric and a Druid, and between Gnome, Dwarf, and Halfling. I ended up going with a Halfling to match his easygoing attitude, and leaned into his association with the Pale Garden as perhaps a caretaker and watchful hand over the Fey-like landscape as a Dream Druid. I knew I wanted his staff to reflect that by containing a creaking heart, but I also made his armor woven bark from the exteriors of the black and white trees, with flickers of the orange creaking magic within it, and kept his palette somewhat subdued and faded compared to his more saturated normal palette.

Ren:

Our bard Ren is probably the least detailed here on account of scale, but I put just the same amount of thought into his clothes, too! I wanted to work in little details that make use of materials that would be big for his small racial size as a fairy, such as a button for a poleyn, sewing pins for tuning pegs on his lute, and oversized ribbon ties on his costume. The main costume (a doublet and flouncy pants) is inspired by flashy, slashed Renaissance fashions - I think they suit a bard with a bragadocious energy like Ren. I added a tiny 'wolf pelt' as a cape that was probably a rat or perhaps an ermine, and his sunglasses are cut and polished crystal.

Jimmy:

Jimmy, our normal-sized normal man, was always a paladin in my mind. I wanted to put him in predominantly pretty heavy plate armor, almost like he's trying to protect himself at all costs, and pull in references to canaries and birds with the wing motif and feathered plume on the helmet and cloak clasp (and sword, which is now hidden behind BigB). The gold linear details both reinforce the pieces and provide a flash of yellow in his design to balance the cool blues and silvers, and his unpictured shield in my mind has the image of a great golden bird being pierced through the heart by an arrow or spear of some sort - a tragic house crest that Jimmy seeks to bring to glory.

[rainily-03]

some things i've drawn since finishing AM

image IDs under the cut!

[image 1 ID: digital art of Edelgard (post-timeskip design) from Fire Emblem: Three Houses. She is facing forwards with an angry/determined expression, one fist clenched in front of her and the other arm outstretched as though giving orders. There is blood dripping from her fist and from her left eye. It is an uncolored sketch aside from the blood and the background being dark red. End ID]

[image 2 ID: Byleth and the Blue Lions (pre-timeskip designs incorporating some headcanons), standing in a lineup against a white background. Notes are written around the characters with arrows pointing to them. Byleth's read "shaggy hair (cuts it themself)", "always looks bored", and "gender = ???". Dimitri's read "very intense stare", "lanky", and "awkwardly big hands & feet". Dedue's read "earrings" and "always furrowed brow". Ingrid's read "fine, straight hair" and "long legs". Sylvain's read "messy hair on purpose" and "muscular". Felix's read "ears stick out" and "wiry (thin but strong)". Annette's reads "petite". Mercedes' read "downturned eyes" and "tall and curvy". Ashe's read "upturned nose" and "skinny". End ID]

[image 3 ID: three busts followed by four simple full-body drawings of the artist's personal female Byleth design. The first bust is labeled "Academy" and shows Byleth with blue hair and a neutral expression. The second is labeled "War" and shows Byleth in profile, green hair in a ponytail, with a determined expression and a scar on her cheek. The third is labeled "Post-canon (AM)" and shows Byleth with shorter, wavier hair, wearing the Enlightened One outfit and smiling. Three of the full-body sketches show layers of Byleth's outfit, altering it somewhat to make it more practical and less sexualized. The fourth is labeled "casual/work" and shows Byleth wearing a dark gray sweater over a pink collared shirt, black shorts over patterned tights, and short black boots. End ID]

[image 4 ID: a simple four-panel comic. In the first, Sylvain is clinging onto Felix, burying his head in his chest and crying while Felix looks bored and pats his back. Sylvain is saying, "UGH Felix why did I do that I'm such an idiot." Felix responds, "Well at least you're my idiot." In the next two panels, Sylvain looks momentarily startled before looking up at Felix with an adoring expression. In the last panel, a slightly disturbed Felix watches from afar as Sylvain walks by, surrounded by hearts and looking blissful, saying to himself, "I'm Felix's idiot..." Felix thinks, "He's so easy to cheer up but at what cost..." End ID]

[todays-xkcd]

The biggest I've seen in a published source in the wild is an 80-fold error in a reported distance, which I think came from a series of at least three unit conversions and area/length misinterpretations.

Square Units [Explained]

Transcript Under the Cut

[Arrows point to each consecutive panel.]

[Megan is looking at her phone, with Cueball standing next to her.] Megan: This newly-described insect can devour up to a square inch of grass per day. Cueball: Oh, neat.

[Cueball is speaking to Ponytail.] Cueball: ...it eats a square inch, or 6 cm², of grass per day...

[Ponytail is speaking to Hairy.] Ponytail: ...a 6-centimeter (2½ inch) square of grass, or 36 cm²...

[Arrows now point to each consecutive conversion.] Written out of panel: ...a 36 centimeter square, or over a square foot... Written out of panel: ...a square foot, or 900 cm²... Written out of panel: ...a 900 cm (30 foot) square... Written out of panel: ...a 30 foot square of grass (900 square feet)... Written out of panel: ...a 900 foot square, or almost 20 acres... Written out of panel: ...20 acres (8 hectares, or 80,000 square meters)... Written out of panel: ...an 80,000 meter (80 km) square... Written out of panel: ...a square 80 km wide, or roughly 2,500 square miles... Written out of panel: ...a 2,500-mile square, or twice the land area of Australia, per day...

[An arrow points from the last conversion to the last panel.] [Hairbun is looking at her phone, with White Hat, Danish and Blondie standing next to her.] Hairbun: Did you hear about this insect that defoliates the entire land area of Australia twice a day? White Hat: Gosh! Danish: Wow. Blondie: I hope at least it's contained there...

[silverior968]

Detroit Become Finnish

[Image ID: Two digital drawings of Hatsune Miku in front of a white background with a light blue squiggle on it. The Miku on the left is wearing winter clothes consisting of a pink scarf, a large cyan puffer coat, black thermal leggings and cyan and brown winter boots with fur lining matching the fur lining in her jacket. Her shoes have anti-skid studs attached. Her scarf is pulled up above her nose, and her eyelashes are white with frost. She has black over the ear headphones with "01" written on them in pink. Her hat is cyan with the text "01 Miku 01" written in pink near the rim. Where her ponytails would normally be she has two cartoonishly long tassels instead. Her left arm has a slap-on reflector strip on it. The other Miku is dressed in summer clothes with a pink moomin shirt, blue denim shorts with a sheathed puukko-knife on one of the belt loops, white and black Marimekko Unikko rubber boots and pink pom-poms on her hairties. Her knees are bruised and scraped, and she is covered in mosquito bites. She is holding a large red Tokmanni-brand bucket filled with bilberries to the point that some are falling out, and has to lean backwards because of the weight, her arm visibly shaking. In her other hand she has a packet of Salmiakki, which she is offering to the viewer with a speech bubble that reads "Ei sul salmiakki kelpais?" (Roughly: You wouldn't care for any salmiac?") Her bucket has the text "free bucket" next to it, with an arrow pointing at the bucket. The artist's signature, Silverior968 is written in the background in white. / End ID]

[falsecookiewithinthepeople]

With your obsession of Belle, I would have think that you are trying to convince everyone to make a AU out of it!

OKAY FINE. FINE. I’LL DO IT. Maybe this will finally convince people to make more Beauty and the Beast AUs because I am LOSING my mind over the fact that no one is doing it right now. So here’s me, shouting into the void, flailing my hands, chucking prompts like cursed confetti, and TRYING TO FORCE YOU ALL TO CARE. There will be a part two once Hollysugar and Silentlily are released. UNTIL THEN. GET IN LOSERS, WE’RE DOING TRAGIC FAIRYTALES.

ShadowVanilla #1:

Look. Belle wears a gold/yellow gown. Adam (YES, the Beast has a NAME) wears a blue suit. IT’S FATE. It’s LITERALLY FATE. I am SHOCKED—no, offended—that there isn’t already an AU of this. Black Sapphire is obviously Lumière, Candy Apple is Cogsworth. Picture Black Sapphire singing Be Our Guest with ✨flair✨.

Pure Vanilla? Already a Disney princess. Shadow Milk? Already a beast with Issues™. It’s PERFECT. Dark Enchantress? Gaston. OBVIOUSLY. Maurice? It’s either Black Raisin (NO I’M NOT LETTING YOU FORGET ABOUT HER) or White Lily.

Now. Two scenes that NEED to be recreated or I will set something on fire:

That STAIRCASE SCENE. You know the one. Adam’s just standing there like a stunned golden retriever, blinking 400 times a second because BELLE IS PRETTY and Belle looks up at him like “Okay wait you’re kinda hot tho?”

The MIRROR SCENE. Belle: “I want to see my father.” Adam: gives her the mirror. She sees him sick and was like "Papa! Oh, no, he's sick, he may be dying! And he's all alone!". Adam, looking at the rose (or, idk, whatever emo thing you wanna use), is devastated but still LETS HER GO. AND SHE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW HOW MUCH THAT HURTS HIM. ANGST! TRAGEDY! SACRIFICE! I AM UNWELL!!!!

WHY IS NO ONE DRAWING THIS??

BurningCheese #2:

Burning Spice is ALREADY the Beast. Anger issues? Check. Self-loathing? Check. Loud, hairy, suicidal? CHECK. Just slap the costume on him and it’s canon. The problem is Golden Cheese, because her personality is NOT Belle. Not even close. But whatever, that’s what AUs are for. Tweak it. Let her be soft! I don’t care! Just put her in the DRESS!!

Gaston? I got nothing without screwing up character integrity. But Maurice? Smoked Cheese. HE’S LITERALLY MET BURNING SPICE. CONNECTION = ESTABLISHED.

Now. Scenes I need recreated like I need air:

“Have dinner with me!” “No.” Adam gets MAD. Mrs. Potts is like “Try again sweetie.” So he goes, “Please?” Belle: “Still no.” Adam: “FINE. THEN GO AHEAD AND STARVE.”

The bird scene. The soft scene. Belle helps Beast feed birds. He’s clumsy and huge and terrifying and they all fly away But then she gently guides him and a bird eats from his palm.

Mysticcacao #3:

Okay. This one’s harder. Gotta use my delusions. BUT LISTEN. Dark Cacao in Belle’s peasant dress. Hair in a ponytail. YES. I’M SERIOUS. STAY WITH ME— Wha— DON'T LEAVE AND LISTEN!!

This ship fits the message more than the exact roles. “Inner beauty matters more than outer beauty.” YES. YESSS. Mystic Flour as Adam, but colder, more distant. Dark Cacao as Belle, but stoic and deadpan (which Belle kinda is already serious so BONUS POINTS).

Gaston? AFFOGATO. Because betrayal. Obviously. Maurice? Caramel Arrow because she was very loyal to Dark Cacao in the original.

AND I NEED THREE SCENES. YEAH THREE. DEAL WITH IT:

The “Something There” sequence.

The WOLF SCENE. Belle (Cacao) is in danger. Beast (Mystic) jumps in and gets wrecked.

The LIBRARY SCENE. Beast gives Belle an ENTIRE LIBRARY. AN ENTIRE LITERARY.

I’M NOT OKAY. I’M UNSTABLE. I’M DESPERATE. DO IT.

Anyway. If I don’t see at least one fanart of this… I’ll explode into a thousand glittery rage particles. Don’t test me.

Make the AUs. Do it for me. Do it for the narrative parallels. Do it for the FAN FICTION!!