#scheduling error

[withywindle-valley]

[Cecil voice] Thursday has been cancelled due to a scheduling error

[luciiferous]

'Seriously, what do you see in that guy?' 'He makes me laugh.'

If you haven't seen Jayce's Arcane Survivor emotes yet... Please, enjoy. They're all adorable.

[senipsenipsenip]

Eventually, the scrapbook ended. The sun had fallen beneath the horizon hours ago, and some nagging part of Stan's brain was telling him kids shouldn't be up this late. Unless they're breaking into a mini golf course. He jerked his head back, furrowing his brow. That was...oddly specific.

"Grunkle Stan?" a little voice - Mabel - questioned. He looked down at his knee to see where his great-niece was sitting, eyeing him with no small degree of concern. "Are you okay?"

He ruffled her hair. "'Course, Pumpkin. Just trying to shake some of those memories back in the right place, huh?" He gave an exaggerated shake of his head, smacking the side like he was trying to get water out his ears. "Got a straggler! Hup! There we go," he grinned, lowering his hand. "Good as new!"

Whatever he said must have been the right thing, because Mabel's eyes had lit up like he'd told her he was turning the Mystery Shack into a cotton candy emporium and Dipper had a sudden death grip on his other leg.

"Geez kid, you're clawing through my pants here," he grumbled, making no move to take away his nephew's hand. "Haven't you chewed your nails off by now? How're they so sharp?"

"You called me Pumpkin," Mabel whispered.

"You remembered I chew my nails," Dipper said in awe. Then he frowned. "Hey, how come Mabel gets a nice one and I get a gross one."

Stan shrugged. "'Cause she's nice, and you're gross."

"Ha! Zoom!" Mabel pumped a fist in the air before collapsing back into Stan's lap in a fit of giggles. Dipper rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he settled back against Stan's other side. Ford stayed perched on the arm of the chair, smiling fondly, but eyebrows still drawn together.

"What's the matter, Sixer?" Stan frowned as Ford grimaced at the nickname. "What?"

Ford waved off Stan's concern. "It's nothing. It's..." Ford sighed. "I'm sorry. It's not nothing. I just don't want to..." He pursed his lips.

"Don't leave us hanging." There was a shake in Stan's voice, and Mabel shifted closer to her Grunkle.

"I'm glad this has been helpful to you," Ford muttered. "But...you don't remember everything. Not really."

"Whaddya mean?" Stan asked. "I remember you, the kids, Soos. The freeloading jerk who steals my sandwiches." Stan glared at Waddles who simply oinked and started trying to eat his shoelace. Whatever. Free pass for jump starting his memories. He better not get used to it.

Dipper sat up. "Yeah, what do you mean, Great Uncle Ford?"

Ford frowned. "I just... Hm." He seemed to be weighing something in his mind before turning to Stan with some resolve.

"Stanley," he began slowly. "I hope you appreciate what I'm about to do for you."

"That's not terrifyingly ominous," Stan muttered, glancing around at the available exits.

"Do you remember my - " Ford cleared his throat. "My first kiss?"

Stan froze. "What?"

"My first kiss, do you remember it?"

"I was there?"

"Yes. Unfortunately a lot of people were."

Mabel squealed beside Stan. "Ooo! Romance memories! How old were you? Was it high school? Was it a high school romance? Was it star-crossed love between the nerd and the cheerleader?"

"Mabel, I think Grunkle Stan is supposed to figure that stuff out."

Mabel sat up and stared at Stan expectantly. "Come on Grunkle Stan! I need details!"

Stan shook his head, nose wrinkling like he'd smelled something rotting. "How should I know? Who asks their brother that sort of thing?"

"Precisely." Ford spoke with the same air of professionalism he adopted when explaining his theories, despite the alarming shade of red his face was becoming. "So far it seems that your memories are returning based on external stimuli, whether that be Mabel's scrapbook or our own prompting."

"So, wait, you're saying I won't get all my memories back?"

"No! No that's not what I'm saying," Ford held up his hands. "What I'm saying is we can't expect them all to come back at once. And at the risk of turning the Shack into the set of the Johnny Carson show, we'll keep asking you questions."

Stan frowned. "What if I don't wanna remember my brother smooching some babe?"

Ford turned redder. "You do."

"I do? Geez, I was a perv."

"In the meantime," Ford pressed. "It's important to take note of any stimulus you experience that makes you remember something. Even if it doesn't paint the whole picture for you, we can fill in the blanks. Or prompt you to remember more details."

Dipper grinned. "And then we get to learn more about the secrets you've been hiding, old man."

Stan lifted his hand to give Dipper a well-earned noogie, but paused before he could make contact. "Old man...did you...did you tell me to shut up one time and then punched me?"

Dipper balked. "What? No I - "

"YEAH no WAY that'd be CRAZY!" Mabel interjected a bit too loudly. "Anyway let's get back to that kissing story, huh?"

"Actually Mabel, I don't know if I want to hear about Great Uncle Ford kissing anybody either."

"Oh come on, Dipper. Are you jealous that The Author got someone to kiss him and you didn't?"

"What? No!"

"Some girls like nerds."

"Mabel I don't want to think about anybody in this room kissing anybody."

"You could learn from him Dipper! Figure out how to wield your nerdish charms. Soon you'll be like a kissing machine!"

"MABEL -"

The twins were silenced by a sudden gasp from Stan. His eyes were wide and unfocused, his jaw hanging open as if someone had knocked the wind out of him.

"Holy - " he choked out softly.

"Grunkle Stan?" Dipper sat up fully. "Are you okay?"

Stan didn't acknowledge him, eyes darting around minutely.

"Grunkle Stan?" Mabel asked softly. "Did you remember something?" Moisture had begun to gather in the corners of Stan's eyes, one of his hands covering his mouth as he began to shake.

"Great Uncle Ford?" Dipper turned to Ford, worry stitching his brows together. But Ford didn't look worried. If anything, he looked like he wanted to disappear through the floor. His face was an alarming shade of red, nearly identical to his sweater. Stan let out another choked sound.

"Are you..." Mabel trailed off. "Grunkle Stan are you laughing?" He was quaking now, his hand falling from his mouth to reveal a wide, open-mouthed smile. He began slapping the arm rest with his free hand, eyes squeezed shut and tears rolling down his cheeks. Dipper and Mabel shared a look. Sure, they'd seen Stan laugh before, but it was usually a loud guffawing thing. They'd never seen him like this. They shared a tentative smile. Either this was the hardest they'd seen him laugh, or he had really snapped.

Ford seemed to pick up on their worry. "He's fine," Ford offered. "He's just...remembering my first kiss." At Ford's words, Stan let out a loud cackle, burying his face in his hands.

Mabel cocked her head. "But what's so funny about -"

"You children must be exhausted," Ford blurted out, standing abruptly. "Come now, go wash up then head to bed!"

"Oh no you don't!" Stan shouted. He wiped tears from his eyes, still smiling. "You're not getting out of this one, pal!"

"Stanley, this conversation is hardly appropriate for children -"

"You brought it up!"

"And now I'm putting a stop to it."

Stan grabbed his head. "Ooooo ow," he gave an exaggerated groan. "My poor head. The mean man won't let me share my memories so they're all going away!"

"Stanley, please don't joke about that."

"I'm fading away - "

"Stanley."

Stan crossed his arms. "You know, you really know how to take the fun out of amnesia."

"Yeah! Come on Grunkle Ford," Mabel pouted. "You can't just leave us hanging!"

"Yeah!" Dipper joined in. "If it's a funny story I want to hear it."

Ford spluttered, pulling at the sleeves of his sweater and looking around for an exit.

"Come on, Sixer," Stan chimed in. His eyes had gone soft around the edges. "I think the kids deserve a funny story."

After today went unspoken. Ford met Stanley's gaze, already feeling his resolve melting before he even turned to his grand-niece and nephew's inquisitive smiles.

"Alright," Ford conceded. "But to maintain the integrity of the exercise, Stanley will be the one to tell it. Whatever he doesn't remember, I can fill in."

Stan rubbed his hands together. "Oh boy, this'll be good."

"I regret this already."

"It's alright Great Uncle Ford," Dipper patted his shoulder. "We have a whole summer's worth of stuff we get to make fun of Grunkle Stan for. This just gives us stuff to use against you now. Levels the playing field."

Ford frowned. "Is that meant to be comforting?"

Dipper shrugged.

"Alright you two, enough yapping." Stan grinned, leaning forward in his seat and spreading his hands out in front of him. It was the same way he started his campfire tales. Mabel and Dipper met each other's eyes and smiled.

"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl named Kiss-Bot..."

[mystiffox]

— crayon brothers

was procrastinating on (re)posting these lols, but have they!!! they're so brothers to me ever since i read the mommacq au comics<3 so they're found family in my verse sorry i dont make the rules (i do)

also obligatory mommacq-esque stuff (panel redraws/doodles) (these r all from 2023 so theyre kinda old skfhsk)

[untitled-tmnt-blog]

I absolutely HAD to draw something for @phoebepheebsphibs's DTIYS (based on this pose)! I decided to mix things up a bit by experimenting with a more limited color palette, which was a pretty fun challenge.

[brettanomycroft]

Anyone else? No, just me?

[weirdghostcat]

Just some Error doodles because someone put real life into hardcore mode ( •̀ ᴖ •́ )

[casualshrimp-but-undertale]

error with this palette again (last time was 4 months ago)

said palette under the cut

⭒˗ˏˋ𓆩 ✩ 𓆪ˎˊ˗⭒

error belongs to loverofpiggies

[susartwork]

Rendering test on these two cuties (*/ω＼*)

Error!Sans belongs to @/loverofpiggies Swap!Sans belongs to @/p0pcornpr1nce

[flowersforthemachines]

Useless Veilguard fact of the day: Day 50

Isabela is the only main NPC* whose body preset has a glute size value above zero (0.367630).

Check out the tag for more useless facts: #useless davg fact of the day!

*For the purposes of this post, "main NPCs" is referring to companions and faction leaders. Though I haven't seen any other NPCs with that value above zero either.

[thebad-lydrawn-sanses]

CAT INK ACTIVITIES!?!?

Ink: wake up Ink: get up Ink: sunbathe for a few hours Ink: make sure Dream isn't still in bed Ink: pretend to try to eat paint so Dream puts food in the food bowls Ink: bother Error and protect other cats from harm Ink: (mostly bother Error) Ink: make sure Dream remembers to give Blue food Ink: sunbathe on Dream's window Ink: find somewhere to sleep

[netrunniings]

jealousy, jealousy

[duckdodger]

did a redraw from an Archie comic panel :]

[dishesoap]

Day 17, Pact, for Wyllstravaganza2024. This was originally going to be a lineless painting. lol. Lmao, even.

[steveshairychest]

It's the apocalypse.

It's the goddamn world splitting apart apocalypse and instead of freaking out like he should be, Steve's standing in front of his bedroom mirror trying to pick an appropriate outfit to visit his friend in the hospital.

The polo shirt is too casual and the sweatshirt is too colourful. And the plain t-shirt says that he doesn't care, but the button-up says he cares too much. He sighs and nervously runs a hand through his messy, grown out hair. It's been three months after all. Three months of mourning and wallowing in his own self hate and blame.

Only for it all to be for nothing because the person he's been grieving is apparently alive.

According to the nurse who called him at exactly 8:30am, he's just woken up from a medical induced coma and he's in the hospital just down the road from Steve's house. She said it so casually as well, like she was informing Steve that it was going to rain tomorrow. She had no idea what to do when he started crying hysterically on the phone.

And now here he is, stressed and flustered standing in front of a mirror because all Steve can think about is making a good first impression. He doesn't understand why, doesn't understand why he's not asking himself how this is possible, how someone he had felt die in his arms is apparently alive and well three months later. There are so many things he should be thinking about and questions he should be asking, but instead, the only thing he can think about is looking nice for his friend who has literally just woken up from a coma.

But he doesn't have time to unpack that.

That's for later; just like the apocalypse, which he pointedly ignores on his way to the makeshift hospital. The cracks that run through Hawkins are quite literally the last thing on his mind right now.

All he can think about is Eddie, who is alive and breathing, who will look at Steve's very carefully picked outfit and probably say something smartass-y and slightly mean, but Steve doesn't care. He needs that right now. He needs the witty jokes and crooked smile. He needs something to replace the lifeless eyes and blood-stained lips from his memory. He needs to know that this is real. That the phone call from the hospital wasn't a dream.

He needs to know that this isn't vecna toying with him.

"I'm here to see Eddie Munson." The words sound jumbled and unreal to his ears. He hasn't said Eddie's name out loud for months. Just the sound of his name would bring him to tears and remind him that he failed, that he is useless at his role as the protector; the shield.

When the nurses don't look at him like he's crazy, like he's lost his mind, and when they actually walk him down the crowded hall to a room marked with the number 27, that's when Steve realises this is real. This is happening.

Because laying there tucked into the all white sheets and hooked up to countless leads, is Eddie fucking Munson.

And he's smiling at Steve weakly, but it's the most beautiful smile Steve has seen in months.

"Hey, Harrington."

[suokumi]

each time I see this piece I remember someone telling me "you should start doing lineart again"

I would, but I suck at it dearly and I'm not willing to put in work for line work specifically, more focused on figuring out other things in art