#And well. Here we are now XD

[undertalethingems]

Do you have another social network besides Tumblr?

I do, but I really don't post much on any of them... I usually use them to follow artists and scientists whose work I'm interested in, rather than making an effort to post much myself.

I really am built to be more of a lurker than an active creator :'D

[wispurring-moss]

i am so normal about him I Am So Normal About Him I AM SO NORMAL ABOUT HIM—!!!!!!;;;;;;;;;;;;;

[emilylsart]

SURPRISE PIXEL ART TIME!!

I felt like making these little sprite edits of the Scott Pilgrim video game characters! Featuring the playable characters on top as well as Knives and some NPCs on the bottom.

I took some clothing inspiration from the anime while Ramona's is from a well-known Bryan Lee O'Malley drawing of her. Changing the colors on them was the fun part :) Also, colored-in mouths! Ain't that something!

The reason I made these sprite edits is that during the weekend, I went on a nostalgic trip to look at some sprite comics I liked during my teenage years...(around 2016) they were mostly Kirby comics, LOL. I usually read them on ComicFury now since Smackjeeves died out a few years ago...it was my only source of sprite-comic reading back then :(

Somehow, all of it gave me the urge to make one on my own...Well this is what I have for now, just a little overview of what the Scotty P. video game characters will look like in my own version of them. Hope you like!

(all original sprites were downloaded from The Spriters Resource and edited in Krita)

[EDIT: fixed Young Neil's hair a bit]

[indieyuugure]

Gosh, has it really been 1 year!? I mean ROTP’s 1 year anniversary is October 15th, so I guess that makes sense lol 😂

Well, I’ve enjoyed every second here! (Except for the times I couldn’t figure out how to press buttons, that kinda sucked, lol)

[longagoitwastuesday]

Every day I am haunted by the fact JJK could be amazing but it will be just idk Bleach or something

[theflyingkipper]

my version of this XD @wysteriaisapenguin

[avirael]

FFxivWrite 2024

Day 16 - Third-rate

Nhagi’ra had tried to reason with them all the way to Gridania. Well, first he had tried to reason, then he had gotten angry, then once they had reached the city he had loudly started to protest against his mistreatment. But neither had his captors been swayed, nor had his screaming caused much more than curious looks and murmurs among the townsfolk.

In the end they unceremoniously threw him into a cell, as if he was a petty criminal, and told him that their superior would speak to him once he had time for that - whenever that would be.

As they slammed the iron bars shut in front of his face someone in the cell to his left was stirred from their sleep. Twocolored eyes observed him through the half-dark for a moment before the other person stood up and stepped closer to the bars. It was another Miqo’te, who mustered him with what looked like a mixture of boredom and annoyance.

“Now, what crime brings me the joy of your company?”, the Miqo’te said casually but with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Defensively Nhagi’ra raised his arms. “I swear, I did nothing wrong! All I wanted was to get something to eat when these guys decided to arrest me for no reason!”

The other Miqo’te rolled his eyes.

“Don’t worry, I believe you. I mean, look at you. These idiots prolly just didn’t like your face. Not that it’s an ugly one…”

Nhagi’ra didn’t really know what to answer to that. Of course he knew that most Keeper tribes of the Black Shroud and the authorities of Gridania weren’t on the best terms but he had not yet experienced their prejudices firsthand. So instead he decided to return the same question.

“And what have you done to be here?”

The scowl on the Miqo’te’s face twitched into a smirk.

”Punched one of the tree-huggers in the face.”

“Oh!…”, Nhagi’ra raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Yeah, I‘m sure that works too…”

“Believe me, he had it coming…”, the other guy added. “Was bullying some poor Keeper at the market just because he could…”

Nhagi’ra sighed. “That sounds just as nice as the ones who nicked me…”

“The guy who threw you in here?”, the Miqo’te asked and grinned. “Once I get out of here I could beat him up for you, if you want…”

“Would that not send you right back here?”

The guy in the next cell laughed, a short laugh that sounded more like bark. “Would be worth it though! Now, come a little closer. I won’t bite… prolly.”

Nhagi’ra furrowed his brows but did as he was told. “They will let me out soon, will they? They have to see I did nothing wrong…”

“Good luck with that!”, the Miqo’te said and reached through the bars to clap him on the back. “I’m rotting in here since three days…”

“Well…”, Nhagi’ra grimaced and tried to choose his next words carefully. “Not to be pedantic, but I don’t think that’s comparable. I did nothing wrong, while you attacked one of them…”

The expression on the other Miqo’te’s face darkened. “Oh! Fine, Mr. I-did-nothing-wrong! How about you talk to the cobwebs in your cell then? Have fun on your own, thinking about how naive it is to think they will make a difference between you and me…”

With a slight growl he turned to leave. Hurriedly Nhagi’ra reached through the bars and tried to get a hold of his arm. “No! No, please don’t leave! I am sorry! I didn’t mean to insult you…”

“Alright, Mr. I-did-nothing-wrong, then tell me exactly what happened before you got here. After a while it gets horribly boring in here. I could use someone to chat...”

And so they talked for a while. Nhagi’ra explained the situation in his tribe, how getting food had gotten more and more difficult and what exactly had happened this particular day as he left to hunt. The other Miqo’te listened with a nod or a sharp-tongued remark here and there and when Nhagi’ra asked about him, the other guy offered some sparse information about himself.

Apparently he was an adventurer that had already traveled around Eorzea and beyond a fair bit. His visit to Gridania had only been for pragmatic reasons but he preferred to spent as little time here as possible. Going wherever he wanted and getting gil for jobs along the way sounded enviable to Nhagi’ra. For a while the Miqo’te talked about their travels and Nhagi’ra listened with great interest but even these stories were all told at some point.

After a few hours they simply sat on the floor beside each other, next to the iron bars and stared into the distance with bored expressions on their faces, waiting for something to happen.

“What will you do, once you get out of here?”, Nhagi’ra finally asked, while wondering if anyone of his tribe was already missing him.

“You mean if we get out here alive at all?”, the other one asked.

An alarmed expression appeared on Nhagi’ra’s face. “What do you mean by that?”

“Dalamud?”, the Miqo’te asked and pointed to one of the windows through which the red glow of the lesser moon was visible. “Haven’t you heard? The Garleans want to throw a moon on us. Shouldn’t be long anymore… Not that I would be sad about seeing Gridania go…”

That in fact was news to Nhagi’ra. Puzzled he whispered, “The wise women of my tribe said this was Menphina’s way of punishing us…”

“Oh, that’s cute…”, the other Miqo’te chuckled and shook his head. “But if I really get out of here before the moon falls from the sky, I’ll leave this fucking town as fast as I can… maybe go to Limsa. Get drunk and see what happens… I would really recommend you to do the same. Don’t waste your time in Gridania. They will always just treat you like some third-rate outcast here. Something they can kick around for amusement or to feel important. In Limsa no one cares what shape your ears or tail have or what color your eyes or skin are… I know a few people there, who could get you some jobs to get started…”

“Really?”, Nhagi’ra asked excited and the Miqo’te shrugged. “Why not? You seem like a nice guy. You in Limsa, that should be fun…”

But just as Nhagi’ra was about to ask why he thought so, two Gridanian soldiers entered the room and walked over to their cells.

The two men stopped in front of the other Miqo’te’s cell and unlocked the door.

“Oh, are you bringing me coffee for breakfast? How kind of you, that wouldn’t have been necessary…”, the Miqo’te asked sarcastically.

The men glowered at him.

“Shut up and follow us! Bowlord Lewin wants to see you!”

“Doesn’t that sound like fun?…”, the Miqo’te joked but turned to Nhagi’ra one last time. “If you really go to Limsa, look for a man called Baderon. Tell him, Nyx sends their regards!”

“Thank you!”, Nhagi’ra replied and then added, “Good luck! And try not to punch any more of them.”

Before he left the Miqo’te looked over his shoulder one last time and smirked.

“I can’t promise that…”

[keepswingin]

Skz Minho + Paranoia by Kang Daniel, 1500 words or less

The rain wakes him, pounding against the covered window beside his bed. 

He turns his head and stares at the wooden planks that cover it for a long moment, waiting for thunder to follow. Lightning flashes through the lingering cracks between the planks that he never bothered to cover, and he sits up, shivers shooting down his spine, eyes fixated.

He waits, and waits longer, heartbeat growing loud in his ears, nearly drowning out the storm. There's a loud crash of thunder that feels as though it shakes the house, lightning, and then he sees it again, through the tiny gaps in the planks, trying to push through. 

He jumps up and runs to the kitchen, blindly searching for something, anything, stumbling over his feet, pricking his fingers, before he finds a knife and bolts back into the bedroom, brandishing it at the rotted fingers that try to claw their way through the boarded window. 

His chest feels tight, and it's hard to breathe, hard to think, but he needs to go to it, he needs to kill it, kill it before it gets inside and kills him - 

"Jagiya?" 

Han calls from his right, voice muffled by the blanket he has tucked up to his chin. When there's no answer, the sheets shuffle with his groggy movement. "Minho?" 

The knife trembles in Minho's grip. When he looks back at the window and waits for the lightning to flash again, the fingers are gone. It's just them. Nothing is trying to get in. "I'm - I'm here," Minho whispers, willing his voice not to shake. "I'm here." 

Han makes a soft noise that's meant to be a confirmation. 

"Come back to bed," he mumbles, and Minho exhales, hand lowering to his side. He slides the knife under his pillow as he climbs back into bed, and tries to pretend that he doesn't feel something else watching his back as he curls around Han once more. 

x

It's always hard to bring himself to unlock the door, his hands shaking as he reaches for the final bolt just beneath the doorknob. Han is already hidden away in the basement, something he does now without being asked, Minho locking the door behind him.

Han hadn't understood it at first, why Minho had asked such a thing of him, but then the older had explained, breathless and trembling behind a hot cup of tea. 

The air outside wasn't safe for someone like Han, someone with skin untouched by a toxic sun. It isn't safe to breathe, to look, to be near, and Minho's skin was used to the ashes, to the radiation and ruin and rejection of a planet that never recovered. His skin wouldn't bubble or bruise or seep, but Han's would, and he needed to go down into the basement to be safe whenever Minho went to open the door. 

Han always needed to be safe. 

Minho couldn't protect him from the world ending, but he could protect him from this. 

The door sticks to the molding when he tries to tug it open - the Earth was too hot now, too cold later, too inhabitable for anyone but them - he gives it a shove of his shoulder, heart stuck in his throat, and staggers outside. 

He looks around, takes it all in, and nearly chokes on the acid taste of the air. The troves of rumble and rock and remains. He tumbles backwards, slamming the door shut behind him less than a second later, breathing heavily, tears in his eyes. 

There was no outside anymore, no matter how many times he checks. There is nowhere for them to go. They need to stay here. They need to keep staying here. 

He needs to keep Han safe.

x

"Minho," Han calls, thumbing through an old book that predicts a world of gentle ocean waves and lush, endless forests. Minho hums from across the room, counting their rations, trying to make them last. He doesn't want to go back out, not ever. He's done looking. They could just stay here, and if they lowered their intake...if he ate just barely anything and gave Han what remained...they could make it. 

They could do it. 

Han flicks through a few more pages before he stops on one filled to the brim with jumbled bits of writing. "Is it safe?" Minho pauses his count. Turns towards Han and watches as he traches over someone else's writing, like it means something. The thought nearly sours his stomach. 

Han had him. Why would he need anyone else? 

"No," he says, watching as Han's shoulders hunch inward and his entire body seems to deflate. "I don't think it's ever going to be safe outside." The silence stretches long after his answer. It makes Minho uncomfortable in a way, that Han could ever sit in silence with him like this when there are so many other things they could be doing instead. 

Han's finger traces over the writing again. It's not Minho's writing. 

Minho's stomach turns and twists itself inside out. He stands when he can't take it anymore, crossing the short distance between them and taking a seat on the floor behind Han, tucking himself against the younger's back. His chin presses hard into the curve of his neck, and he wraps his arms around him, holding him close. 

He doesn't say anything else. He doesn't need to, when Han hesitantly slides his hand into his own a few moments later.

x

Minho feels pathetic today, standing at the kitchen counter and staring at the remains of an empty can. The remnants of sleep are crusted at the corners of his eyes, and exhaustion tugs at his body, weighing him down. His legs feel like lead, and his feet like cement blocks, meant to keep him below the surface, unable to catch a breath. 

There's blood on the counter. There's a knife beside it. 

He thinks it's his blood. 

He doesn't remember whose blood it really is, when a million eyes had turned and stared and asked him why. He doesn't remember taking the knife and running it across his wrist until his wrist had turned the color they had wanted it to be. He doesn't remember the smile they had given him as they had asked for more. 

Minho feels pathetic today, unable to finish the job they ask of him, unable to look Han in the eye and pretend that what they do is right when it all just feels wrong. Han was never supposed to be here, and Minho was never supposed to invite him in. Minho was never supposed to get lost - steal a glance at Han and never want to let him go, greedy in the way he grabs at his wrists, hungry in the way he presses close and doesn't turn away. 

Selfish. So selfish that he deserves being told to end his life so that another can start. 

Gentle fingers curl around his shoulder. Minho doesn't react. If they've come to take him, he won't fight. He's sick of them looking at him like this, sick of the torment, sick of all the images they paint for him on the backs of his eyelids.

"Hyung," Han whispers, gently tugging him back. "What'd you do?" 

Minho feels a shaky exhale rattle through his body, and doesn't know what to say. Does he say the truth, and let Han discover everything he's been trying to hide? Does he lift his arm and allow the blood to run freely onto the kitchen tile? Does he take the knife and slit his own throat before - 

"I thought we were eating dinner together." 

Han's cheek presses against his shirt. His careful fingers travel down and play with a loose string at the hem. The tone of his voice sounds...playful, not absolutely horrified, like Minho had thought it would've been. Something isn't right about this. He should say something, ask if the other is seeing what Minho's seeing, what Minho is, at the core of all of this, a twisted being with a disgustingly twisted mind. 

But then Minho blinks, and the world is brought back into sharpened focus. 

The counter isn't stained with blood, it's stained with what was supposed to be their dinner. Beets fresh from an old tin can, smeared against the counter, against the side of the sink, painting the side of the knife's blade. He dares to glance down at his arm, so sure it had been dripping blood, only to see more red. But it's the red of a vegetable, and not the inside of his arm. 

He hears laughter. Han's not laughing.  

Minho feels sick, and then he feels nothing at all.

x

He wants to say he doesn't remember how the fight started, but the truth is that he does, and there's glass shattering two inches from his head before he can stop it. He looks up and it's impossible to miss the glare Han shoots him, or the tears slipping down his cheeks. He's upset, and angry, and every other emotion close to it as he reaches for another picture frame. 

There's a part of Minho that tells him to stand there and not move, to stand there and let the glass puncture his body, his arms, his face, to let it stab him in however which way so that he can actually feel something that isn't the stare of a million eyes or the feeling of rotting hands pulling at his feet or Han's red cheeks and running nose. 

Han yells and tosses the frame, choking out another sob. Minho's body moves against his mind's wishes, allowing the picture frame to hit the hardwood floor behind him, glass fracturing into tiny pieces. 

Minho turns and looks back at the picture, half out of the frame and crumpled around the edges. It's one of him from what feels like another life; he was seven and had won his first sports contest, trophy clutched tightly between two tiny hands. His mother's finger is in the picture, taking up one corner of the frame. 

His father was gone by then, and it didn't take long for his mother to follow. 

"Don't you have anything to say?" Han screams, jolting Minho back to the present as he turns just in time for the other to launch himself forwards, fists pounding on his chest. Minho's back hits the wall with a thump as Han cries and hits him, over and over again. "Why aren't you saying anything?" 

Minho swallows, and avoids looking at the boarded windows, the duct-taped vents, the busted doorknobs. It's never enough, not when there's millions of eyes and only one of him. He can't keep them both safe anymore, not like this. Not when he's broken, and Han is ripping out the rest of his pieces. 

There's nothing left to say. 

Minho tries to grab his wrists, but Han jerks away from his touch, and one of his fists knocks into Minho's shoulder hard enough for it to sting. It stuns him, that the one person he's done everything to protect doesn't want his protection anymore. It echoes in his mind until it's the only thing he can hear, and he reaches a hand up to the side of his head, tugging at his hair. Han hates him. He hates him. Minho can't protect him anymore. It's all over. Everything's over. 

He should've known it would end this way. Nothing ever lasts, and he was foolish to think that this would. 

Han shouts again, and Minho blinks, tilting his head up. His heart aches. His head screams. Han cries into his hands until his tears spill onto the floor, one after another. Minho wants to reach out for him, hold him until he quiets, just like he used to when he first found him. He would cry for hours and hours, and all Minho could provide was the warm comfort of his own jagged body until Han had finally realized this was exactly where he belonged. 

He still belonged here, even if he didn't think so. 

"Han," he whispers, the letters bitter against his throat.

"That's not my name," Han says, sniffling, red-rimmed eyes locking with his. "Do you even remember?"

Minho's mouth opens, and then closes. They laugh at him from the shadows, cruel and callous, but Minho was cruel and callous, wasn't he? When he took Han in, and called him by a different name until it was all he could remember. Because his real name came from the outside, and they were no longer apart of the outside, not now, not after all of this. Minho never was, but Han used to be. 

He used to be.

"Let me out," Han says, already moving towards the door that sits on the other side of the room. 

Minho's heart jumps, beating hard against his ribcage as he stumbles over his own two feet. No. No, anything but that. He can't leave, he'll die if he leaves, his skin will burn, his breath will get caught his throat and Minho will be left all alone and he can't do this if he's alone, not anymore, not after being with someone else for so long -

"No!" Minho yells, throwing himself forwards, fingers slipping around Han's elbow just as he reaches for the knob. Han stills, still sniffling, chest heaving. Minho grips him tighter. Anything but this. Anything but losing the one thing he has left. "Please," he says, fighting against the sound of his own choked tone. "Please don't." He pauses, unsure of what to say. Would anything make him stay now that the truth has come out? "I can't lose you." 

Han huffs, the sound strangely twisted. "You already have," he mumbles, defeated, and before Minho can stop him, he's pulling out of his grip and reaching for the door. It's easy for him to unlock even though he's never touched the bolts before, something that itches at Minho's skin, because how would he know when he's down in the basement every time Minho tries to glimpse the outside? Unless...

The door is thrown open. Minho flinches, stumbling back.

Han opens the door, expecting ruin. What is revealed to him on the other side is anything but.

[meiloorunsmoothie]

how did you first get into Jeremy Jordan

good question—and one i very recently asked myself when the inevitable "how did i become this person" reflection happened 🫣.

i think there were many different factors (most of them not that good) that caused me to dive into obsessive mode so hard (and so quickly)—and it's definitely a "i see it now, but i couldn't back then" kind of situation. however, i'll spare you from those details XD.

the simple story is that, similar to you, i watched tangled the series and instantly fell in love with varian.

i love him

funnily enough, varian was the reason i started watching the show to begin with (coupled with the fact that i love tangled, and rapunzel, and eugene, and pascal, and max, and- 😆). i actually listened to the tts songs before watching the show 🫣 because my sister had gotten hooked on it years before. however, i only listened to the songs with mandy moore and zachary levi 🫣🫣 (cause i was like "who are these other random people, i want rapunzel and eugene"). then one day i listened to "through it all," in which varian has one line (plus an "eh" which i love now, but couldn't tell was him when i first listened XD)—and i was instantly just like: who's that.

have i listened to this one line on loop? you bet.

so i started watching the show—and loved varian from episode one—so naturally, i decide to look up the voice actor. it was jeremy....surprise. except...i didn't actually become obsessed right then. if anything, i was a little weirded out that this tiny boy was voiced by a 30-something year old man 😂 (but it's voice acting, so i was just like: wow, he did a great job 🤩...i'm going to go resume loving varian).

okay and then he sang. i knew he was good from his one line in "through it all", but wOW. adfasjkjaskfjd, on repeat forever and ever.

yes he was

that's not when i became (jeremy) obsessed either XD.

okay...and then a bunch of life stuff/circumstances kind of collided, and let's just say that i was feeling extremely lonely while also struggling with grief. i think there was about a two week period of this before i started actually bouncing back, and i had just reached the end of s1. now tts was doing a good job with bringing much needed happiness in my life, but...s2 had a very noticeable varian-shaped hole in it 😒.

that's when i turned to jeremy jordan youtube. it started off (the first hour) pretty mild—just some of his disney medleys, or the greatest showman video, or just the ones with millions of views—but it very quickly turned into a full out jeremy jordan youtube spiral™️ XD.

i must put this in your face again

i think in part, i latched on so quickly because jeremy and i are actually very similar people in general. i think at the point of extreme change that i was in at the time, it was just nice to "know" someone who was like me—and it definitely helped that there was easy access to extensive jj content. on a slightly different note, this is absolutely the reasoning behind the fact that if i had a chance to see jeremy live, i would choose one of his concerts over, say, gatsby—i am obsessed with jeremy jordan as jeremy jordan XD (hello akp).

literally me (i grew up in california by the way XD)

anyways, fast forward ~3 months, and i joined tumblr 😆...and we all know what happened after that. honestly, not a bad decision in my mind (at least so far), despite being very anti-social media my whole life. i've gotten to chat and obsessively geek out with so many great people, and i'm just so grateful for that 💕.

i've still only watched s1 of supergirl...and many youtube clips

[wings-dings-and-iggyfings]

Hey all! So if you didn't see it yesterday there is a new Wingfeather trailer for season 2! It's pretty epic!

There's also a new season 2 poster in their shop, and since it has Peet on it I bought it immediately even though I really don't have extra money to spend this week. xD It also has what I think is the first official/finished look at Maraly?!? (the character, not my kitten) As well as the Fork Factory, Claxton Weaver and the Overseer. 👀👀

https://shop.angel.com/pages/wingfeather

Season 2 covers the first half of book 2 and is releasing sometime this year!

[victorluvsalice]

-->And then it was Family Dinner Time! I had everyone head down to the kitchen (Victor and Smiler taking advantage of their teleports, while Alice super-speeded and Marm hovered), then Alice and Victor each grabbed a plate of turkey while Smiler had some plasma fruit and Marm sat at the table, just happy to be included. XD Everyone proceeded to have a lovely chat over supper, with Victor expressing his thankfulness to Smiler and Alice hers to Victor while one of the cats snoozed nearby. :) I do love it when I can coordinate some proper family time for this lot!

After two plasma fruits and some invigorating conversation, though, Smiler decided they wanted to go dance to their radio again – as everyone was pretty much done with the grand meal, I allowed this and sent Marm to play yet more chess while Alice and Victor shared a few final words over the last bites of their supper. Victor finished first and transportalated upstairs to have a shower and hit the sack, while Alice gobbled down the rest of hers werewolf-style and got put on plate-cleaning duty. I then checked in on Smiler and decided to have them check the latest video trends – which just so happened to include singing videos. An idea sparked in my mind, and I turned to their streaming drone –

And then realized “oh hey, there’s a battery upgrade on here I never finished.” So I had them start that first –

-->Only for them, and everyone else, to get interrupted by the house making spooky noises. *grumbles* I think that’s my least-liked part of living in a haunted house – the fact that every time it makes a noise, every Sim stops what they’re doing to freak out. You’d think they’d just get used to it after a while! *shakehead* Though I suppose I should check to see if any of them have the “Brave” trait – maybe that would help?

-->Anyway – once everyone was done having their “what was that??” moment, they all resumed their activities as per my directions. Alice cleaned up the plates, then let out a somber howl to reduce her Fury before heading to the barn to cut the amethyst she had on her into a spire so she could charge it and help her and Victor recover their energy sleeping even faster; Victor watched the fish in his and Alice’s bedroom for a bit before heading back to bed; and Marm went and took a nap on one of the front porch couches (I was like “sir, your charge need is BARELY DEPLETED”). And Smiler finished the battery upgrade on their drone before stowing it in their inventory –

And then flew into their party barn loft area to set up a recording of them singing some pop music on their big-ass karaoke machine! :D Because what the hell, I thought it was fun. :) I left them powering out the tunes while I peeked in on the others –

-->And found that Alice had once again decided showering in the rain was better than doing what I’d told her to do. I huffed and had her go back in and resume her spire…

And then promptly had to send her out again because her werewolf instincts were insisting she be outside, whoops. Which was fine, because as it turned out, shortly thereafter the house made MORE spooky noises, and everyone was knocked out of their current activities AGAIN. *rolls eyes* Once the freakouts were once again over, I had Alice go back to cutting her spire while sending Marm to play more chess (had to get him up to Logic level 3 for his aspiration) and Victor to start a new song on the piano (I’d had him scrap the old one because I was half-sure it was bugged). Smiler I just had end their video (I mean, when the house itself is commenting on your karaoke, it’s time to stop), then head back to their room to load it into the video editing station for, well, editing. XD They got through the initial edits and adding effects (while I tried and failed to have them do some last-minute “Being Thankful” with Victor to quickly fulfill that tradition – for some reason, they kept insisting they couldn’t teleport into the study in bat-form) –

And then Harvestfest ended, and with it, the playsession! I wrapped up with everyone having had at least a DECENT holiday (Victor, Alice, and Smiler all got “Awesome,” while poor Marm got “Over” because they could only fulfill two of the traditions – you’d think a Servo would just ignore the “Grand Meal” one because, well, SERVO, but nope! But he was happy enough to ignore the “Decorate” tradition because he’s Lazy, go fig), and Alice having successfully created her amethyst spire, getting up to level 4 of the Gemology skill in the process, nice. :) I put that on the grid to charge, sent her to bed, and left it there!

And that is that! Whew – long session to be sure, but a good one, I feel. :) Next time, we clean up the last of the mess left by those damn gnomes (who at least all ended up back in the greenhouse where I can easily move them back to where they should be), and get ready for another food sale, this time in good old Copperdale! See you then!

[tenrai-no-ame]

{ @malafxde continued from: 🌟 }

"Oh? Well if you think so, then it must be true~…" A few soft notes of laughter followed the God's words, before a gentle hum then rolled through him. "Hm~… I suppose so~…" While Rin wouldn't lie in saying he'd hoped to maybe do a little better-- At the same time, he felt content enough with how well he'd done.

[putschki1969]

What's Inside my Bag 【Request】

Hello, this is Hikaru. Thank you for watching! This time, I decided to show you the contents of my bag since I got some requests in the comment section of previous videos👜 I wonder if I did a good job introducing all the items...? 😂 Please send comments and submit requests!

Ohhh!! I really enjoy seeing all the stuff that Hikaru carries with her when she goes to the studio. Also, I had no idea that Hikaru has a personal trainer (who apparently also designs bags XD) Hikaru really is the type to use this type of bag instead of something fancy and branded.

[longagoitwastuesday]

Going through the Utahim.e tag had me checking several times if at some point I had clicked on the G.ojo/Utahim.e one instead

[stardestroyer81]

⭐ Y'all, it's real. ⭐

Thanks to the amazing RetroAmericanRepros over on Etsy, I was able to have my Super Star Sisters artwork made into a label and put on an actual NES cartridge shell— in my favorite color no less!! Getting to have my artwork on an NES cartridge is something that I've always wanted, and I felt that Super Star Sisters would make for a perfect fit! ✨

[mozart-the-meerkitten]

Drew some very tiny boys to go with a headcanon I've been mulling over:

This is teeny tiny Apollo and Starbuck from Battlestar Galactica (1978). Since I don't think we ever find out when they became friends, but they're so familiar with each other they're like brothers, I like to imagine they met as little kids. Specifically, I imagine Starbuck got into trouble with some older kids because he tricked them and when they started beating him up little Apollo stepped in to try and get them to stop. He didn't succeed in stopping them, but he did make a friend for life so.

I'm really happy with how their poses turned out! I am *slowly* learning how to draw people from the side so this is good practice. Now I just need to ink and color them. 💜