aaaaaaaaaAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
YOUR SHERLOCK ART I-
*explodes*
THEM :)
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today i volunteered at a historic home gut rehab the local habitat for humanity is doing and got to scooch around in the crawlspace and cut bits of wood and use a nailgun. at one point the Head Guy asked if i knew how to use a table saw and i said "yes but not with confidence" and actually? i do know how to use a table saw with confidence. but confidence that the table saw hates its users and thirsts for blood
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dead boy detectives is a show whose shortcomings and strengths make total sense when you think of it as a comic on tv, ie terribly goofy expository dialogue that sounds way better when you picture it in comic book font with every other word bolded, panel-paced conversation as our heroes figure out something very obvious, fun enormous monster set pieces that used up all the cgi budget which is why all the rooftop shots look Like That, incredible snap zooms and smash cuts in montages that hit exactly like comic panels, and side characters with bland or brilliant characterization that seems to hinge on the metric of ‘how much cunt did the actor put into their line readings’
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Previous // Next
Byrd: Teach us!
Juniper: Okay! First, you’ve gotta put your hands above your head.
Wren: Nuh.
Juniper: This part’s easy.
Byrd: Like this?!
Juniper: Just like that-.. keep them there and bring your foot up against your leg, like this!
[Byrd giggled, wobbling precariously as he mimicked his cousin]
Juniper: It takes a lot of practice-.. c’mon, Wren!
[Wren scowled, making a break for it; the only thing worse than dancing was being told what to do]
…
Having given up trying to reply to Alex’s latest letter, Robin stared listlessly at the star shaped stickers on his ceiling. He’d poured his heart out about how nothing ever went right, how he never fit in anywhere, how he was having a tough time at school-.. that he got in a fight, that he kept imagining what it’d be like if his parents died, particularly his father; he’d briefly considered asking what’d happened to her mother too but he’d thought better of the whole thing and viciously crumpled his pathetic attempt into a ball instead. Maybe he ought to burn it in the sink so no one else would read it by accident.
He felt bad that he hadn’t replied yet but he’d been in such a foul mood recently that he couldn’t think of anything remotely interesting or fun to talk about, and the last thing he wanted to do was bum her out.
He rolled onto his side as Wren stomped toward his door; it rattled familiarly as her little fingernails fiddled with the lock. Robin knew it was her because he could sense her current disdain, and she was the only one of his siblings who’d learnt how to do it-.. plus, if it were either of his parents, they would’ve knocked.
Wren: Juni’s tryna make me dance!
Robin: She’s not gonna make you do anything.
[Wren grabbed Robin and shook him with urgency, yanking at his hair with desperation]
Wren: I’m gonna hide in here, okay?!
[Robin sighed; reasoning with a six-year-old, especially Wren, was rather pointless]
Robin: Sure.
Wren: Wait-.. where’re you going?!
Robin: Does it matter? You’re safe in here.
Wren: Robinnnnn.
Robin: Get off me!
Wren: I wanna play!
Robin: So, play-.. just don’t delete all my saves again.
Wren: You do it! I wanna watch.
Robin: I don’t really wan-…
Wren: Pleeeeeeease?
…
Robin: I can’t play if you’re gonna squish me-.. get off.
Wren: Uuuugh.. I can’t, I’m stuck.
Robin: Move!
Wren: [gasps] What is that-.. kill it!
Robin: I don’t have anything to ki-…
Wren: KILL IT!
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