#Blue alien people

[smilysstuff]

Lavernius Tucker your my everything

[doomdoomofdoom]

If nothing else, I want you to take this away from yesterday's presidential debate:

This is a literal, actual, verbatim quote.

[kinabluuuuu]

until these falling stars are buried in the blur of time...

not even a day later and my previous post is irrelevant. tabieita forever. tabieita as ivantill because i said so.

[thestuffedalligator]

OK you know that. Thing. When you’re watching a piece of visual media that’s been going on for a while, and it started with very simple, almost abstract, character designs, but as time went on and the artist skills/technology improved, and they could consistently make more elaborate character designs, new additions to the cast would be more consistently elaborate in their design and the characters who were grandfathered in from those earlier installments wind up looking a little goofy alongside them?

Is there a name for that? Is this a recognized phenomenon? I’ve been calling it character design creep in my head

[lainalit]

It's almost funny how Rhysand can't change the traditional views of Illyrian/CoN men in 500+ years.

but in the Ice Planet Barbarian series, human women get stranded on an ice planet with blue aliens on it, who are basically cavemen, and within a few days they manage to transform the traditional views of the male aliens from woman cook/clean and man hunt/provide to all women are queens and can do whatever they want.

[girlbossdarkiplier]

moar mark ocs as lps (ゝω・´★)

[fictionalmenplz]

🇭 🇴 🇵 🇪 🇱 🇪 🇸 🇸 🇱 🇾 • 🇩 🇪 🇻 🇴 🇹 🇪 🇩

🇹 🇸 🇺 '🇹 🇪 🇾 • 🇫 🇦 🇳 🇫 🇮 🇨

Summary: When an Omaticayan warrior washes up on her shores, Ki'qara takes full responsibility in ensuring his health and safety...

Contains: small mention of flesh/blood

A/N: part 1/? Also thank y'all for being so so patient while I took my EIGHT MONTH long break 💀

Part 5 of Never In A Thousand Years should be posted soon <3

She climbed up the rock overlooking the water, her legs shaking slightly as she looked down at the transparent teal liquid that splashed and sang beneath her.

With an unsteady sigh she briefly shut her eyes and put her hand on her heart, this is a necessary part in your process of fishing, she reminded herself. Being afraid of water when it is what you were born in is a curse.

She sat down on the rock, gripping the old vine that was tied to a tree behind her and also dangled off the edge into the water, she pulled it up with all her strength, glad to find a heaping pile of fish in her basket trap.

She immediately took her basket and stepped away from the edge, planting her feet on sand and sitting down. She plucked a thick leaf from beside her and laid it out flat and began neatly laying the fish down on it.

She secured her haul with some thin vine and then slowly lowered her trap into the water once more, returning to her home with more than just one dinner.

Her home was quaint, and tidy. She built it herself not that long ago. In her few years of living this life alone she has begun to accept and relish in the fact that not everyone needed a clan.

It was on the roots of the ocean trees, like most clan homes, except it was mostly on the shore to help with her fear of the water. Her flooring was more reinforced and had less space in the netting so it would never be at risk of breaking.

She removed one fish out of her storage and brought it to the shore where she had twelve rocks laid in a circle and some coal and ash rested in the center. With her tools, she began to de-scale and flay it.

"Ay!" She exclaimed and held her hand was not the best at removing the bones. "Skxawng payoang*." She muttered and tossed the rest into the dying flame.

*idiot rock fish

She stood up and rubbed her cheek as she walked to the entrance of her home, just before she could move the draped blanket in front of her door, her eyes caught a glimpse of something in the water.

Once she realized it was one of her own kind, lying face down in the wake, she rushed into the water without thinking of her fear. The water lapped up to her chin, she was able to wrap her arms around the figure's ribs.

She frantically pulled their bodies to shore, once it was shallow she stumbled to her knees and took hold of the other's knife strap and pulled them to shore.

She fell onto her back, panting heavily as she kicked water off her legs. She sat up and looked down at the Na'vi next to her, he was much different from her own people, but so similar.

The girl took hold of the strap over his chest again and carefully pulled him into her home. She took her best weaved quilts and wrapped them over the parts of his body free of scrapes and other wounds.

Lighting her torches and gathered her salves, work is needed in order for this Omaticayan man to live. She removed his concealed blade pouch over his chest and examined the gash across his heart.

She couldn't even imagine what animal he fought to get that wound. Very carefully, she took a cloth and used it to wipe away the blood and small chunks of ripped flesh off his skin. His legs lightly kicked and he let out a sharp grunt in response.

Cautiously applying the thick salve to his gash, she tried hard to not wake him, he looked like a fierce warrior, sure to hurt her if she startled him. "Eywa help this soul," she whispered, feeling compelled to speak.

After laying down a mesh cloth over his wound, Ki'qara stood and began to tidy her mess of supplies. Having briefly turned her back on him, Tsu'tey, the supposedly sleeping warrior, took this chance to wake up.

His eyes shot open and his pupils dilated immediately, a heavy gasp leaving his lips as he jolted upright. He quickly scanned his surroundings, the woman in the corner was still reacting to his awakened state and crouching down, ready to defend herself.

He panicked, not knowing where he was and how he got here, he grabbed his knife and jumped to his feet, bounding out of the seaside hut and stumbling poorly down the shore.

[my-world-my-stories]

.... Well, I just discovered something. Songbirds And Tigers will soon turn a year old in a week or so...

.... Where the HELL does the time go?!?

[liedownquisition]

Today I am once again and eternally haunted by the connections my brain makes between:

“Over all the millennia, only you have ever loved me, Thor. Only you have ever looked at me with affection in place of condescension. Why, then, am I killing you, and not the others? Because you stopped.” ~Loki #4, Robert Rodi

And

"Bruce, I forgive you for not saving me. But why? Why on God's Earth is HE still alive? Ignoring what he's done in the past. Blindly, stupidly, disregarding the entire graveyards he's filled, the thousands who have suffered, the friends he's crippled. You know, I thought… I thought I'd be the last person you'd ever let him hurt. If it had been you he beat to a bloody pulp, if he had taken you from this world, I would've done nothing but search the planet for this pathetic pile of evil death-worshiping garbage and sent him off to Hell. … I'm not talking about killing Penguin, or Scarecrow, or Dent. I'm talking about him. Just him. And doing it because… because he took me away from you." ~Batman#650/UtH#13 Judd Winnick

.

[stvlti]

Jaime Reyes sucks at driving and here's why

... What's up, Jaime? Is that your girlfriend? Why don't you have a car?

His old man runs a garage and he doesn't have a car ...

(Panel from Blue Beetle (2006) #26)

Throughout the 2006 series we seldom see Jaime drive. He's always carpooled with Brenda and Paco to school, and even after he becomes Blue Beetle full-time it's Paco who drives him around on missions. Which makes sense, considering he got the scarab at 16, leaving him little incentive to learn to drive and drive well when he could just fly. In issue #26 we see him do exactly that: he commutes to a family gathering by flying in in his bugsuit.

So Jaime is not the best driver. He probably drove Once™ and is barred from the driver's seat by everyone from El Paso to his Titans friend group. But no, it's not what you're thinking. He can drive. He just drives like a grandpa. Three miles an hour below the speed limit at all times, uses his blinkers religiously, and waits way too long to make turns because he doesn't trust that the gap in traffic is long enough. He gets to a busy junction and starts sweating bullets. The Scarab is screaming in his head about imminent danger. He's trying to read signals and Khaji tells him to just floor it. Everytime Jaime gets into a car the scarab is screaming about the stupidity of right of way in traffic laws.

The first time Jaime borrows the family car after the scarab fuses to his spine it goes like this:

Khaji: IF I WERE DRIVING WE WOULD HAVE ARRIVED 22 MINUTES AGO

Jaime: If you were driving we wouldn't have enough car left to arrive in!!!! not to mention all the pedestrian casualties!!!!

Jaime can't even help navigate the road with the scarab's built-in GPS system because roads don't make sense to Khaji and it never maps drivable routes.

Khaji: turn right in 500 feet

Jaime: khaji theres no road in 500 feet

Khaji: turn right in 200 feet

Jaime: khaji theres no road, reroute!!!

Khaji: turn right in 15 feet

Jaime: KHAJI IM NOT DRIVING THIS CAR THROUGH A WALMART, REROUTE

(dialogues courtesy of @lemontongues )

In conclusion, Jaime absolutely sucks at driving, thanks for coming to our ted talk

[zprite-x]

I will fight anyone to the death that Shiny Leafeon should’ve been orange like an autumn leaf

[texasthrillbilly]

We gotta get these two together.

[neonli]

Constellation Drifter

“Have you heard of Constellation Drifter? Some say if you look closely at the night sky, you can see it. You can see her drifting across the cosmos.”

Hands traced and modeled from Ibis Paint X reference materials

[artistfromspace]

We're back!!! And we simply could not be off to a more perfect start for this new chapter in the Howelters' lives

[glitch-e-stardust]

Seeing people be like 'yeah I saw a bug in here but I squished it so it's okay now' and having to remind myself that's normal to most people actually.

[sarah-sandwich-writes]

Ok I lied, I also desperately want more about VLTD because I'm FERAL for it... *please*?? I'll take any little snippets you're willing to offer <3 - @fieldsofview

@fieldsofview god okay so Violet is coming a bit slow. I got 6k into it and realized I was already bored with the story. It just wasn't doing it for me, so I put it back in the percolator to stew some more and NOW I think I have the right setting for it. Originally I wanted to send them to Alaska bc of Nash's little throwaway thought about being brother of the year by buying Jo a plane ticket, but that's just not working for me creatively. Tennessee is where it's at, you know?

SO INSTEAD, he's going to buy her the ticket not knowing the reason she's been down in the dumps lately is because she misses when it was just the two of them. She's going to have a bit of a breakdown bc she's feeling all that and now he's trying to send her away?? But she still doesn't want to say it's him and Teddy that are the problem bc he's literally never been this happy before and she won't be the one to ruin it. So instead she confesses she misses her friends, which she does but also there's drama between her and Bella because of her moving away so it's a bit of a nasty surprise when she finds out that instead of Alaska Nash has arranged for her friends to stay with them for a week.

So now she has to deal with even less one-on-one time with her brother and also all the drama she thought was safely sequestered in Buford Hills.

So I'm going to have to cut most of what I have written (*sob*) but the intro is good enough to keep so here you go!

Here there be spoilers for Blue, like don't forget about me!

There’s an art to picking a hotel cheap enough that living out of it for three weeks won’t bankrupt you, but nice enough you won’t need to worry about bugs. In Jo’s opinion, it all comes down to the desk.

Hotel rooms follow a basic formula: bed (obviously), mini fridge (to store stress pudding), shitty single-brew coffee maker (always the same), a microwave (always different), an armchair in the corner (to sit in whilst eating pudding), and a desk. A good look at the desk and you’ll know whether you’ve made a mistake.

Too squat or wobbly—clearly not intended to be used—you’re in a cheap hotel meant for a single night stay and expected to be gone by breakfast. But a nice desk with a matching chair in a room that doesn’t make you feel like a dirty street urchin means you have successfully walked the line between frugality and indulgence.

Careful not to topple the precarious stack of client notes, Jo scoots the hard four-legged chair closer to the desk that’s too low to fit her thighs under despite being all of 5’4” in her derby skates. She sticks her plastic pudding spoon between her teeth and moves the stack away from the edge while creamy chocolate warms on her tongue. The sleeve of her favorite sweater, an ancient thing with a brown stain over her left breast that looks like a fatal stab wound (pudding incident of 2022), catches on the sharp corner but tears free without trouble thanks to the tattered state of the hems.

“When’re you gonna be home?”

She picks up her phone to see the familiar worry line between her brother’s eyebrows. Nash’s hair is overgrown again—beachy curls inching over his ears and peeping around the sides of his neck. He looks tired, but he always looks tired. More important is the aura of peace that he’s carried like a favorite blankie since they moved to their little mountain.

She swallows and slips the spoon from between her lips. “Thursday.” She points her spoon at the mini fridge where three pudding cups remain—one for each remaining day. “Think you can get the place baby sister proofed by then?”

The stress lines framing his mouth flex. “Yeah. ‘Course.”

She sticks her spoon into her pudding and leaves it there as she prepares to dig for whatever he isn’t saying, but, for once, he beats her to it.

He casts a surreptitious look over his shoulder then hunches forward and says, “Teddy’s got napkin swatches all over the front room.”

Ah, and they’re talking about Teddy again. It was a fun novelty for the first two months—she’s never seen her brother fall all over himself like he did for Teddy—but it’s been three years and she’s over it.

“I don’t understand why swatches. Why not just give us one of each napkin? It don’t make sense.”

“Uh, yeah I guess it’s kind of weird. Why napkins?”

His expression turns dour. “He wants me to pick one for the reception.”

“Alright, so pick.”

They were supposed to get married in February (fucked up, unnatural time for a wedding but nobody asked her), but then Teddy freaked out acting like a little backyard shindig wouldn’t be good enough and now they’re shelling out actual cash money to stand around in a swanky lodge for six hours and eat overpriced chicken.

Downright foolish, but again, nobody asked her.

“I tried but he said he could tell I was just trying to get out of it.” Steel gray eyes stare into hers. “Jo, I don’t care about napkins.”

“I don’t think anybody cares about napkins.”

“That’s what I—!” He lowers his voice. “That’s what I said.”

“But Teddy cares about—,”

“That’s the thing,” Nash interrupts, eyes wide, animated in his exasperation. “He doesn’t care either.”

“Then why—,”

“He thinks—,” He wrinkles his nose, then confesses, “He thinks it’s one of those things where maybe I do care, I just haven’t thought about it enough to know.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“I know.”

“They’re napkins.”

“I know.”

It takes another five minutes to talk Nash around into telling Teddy that he’s put in enough due thought to determine he very much doesn’t care what people wipe their hands and face on at their wedding, but he turns down Jo’s suggestion that they stick a paper towel roll on each table so he must care at least a little bit.

When they hang up the pit of missing home hasn’t filled an inch. Even worse, her pudding is room temperature.