#Im sure you can tell 😭😭

[moldy-flowers]

No amount of time will ever be too much.

I FUCKING FORGOR ONE OF SASUKES STUPID ARM WARMERS UGSHHAHANANAMAMKSNSOWOSNLSPSMS DJSPEN DOSNDJWOWMWKOWOWN

[doostyaudi]

Murder drones designs.... Bleh... I might make more in the future, no promises tho

+ some silly little comic i made. Idk

Alternate vers Uzi below the cut

[beeduoo]

wonderful

[hyohaehyuk]

Jacob Anderson on working with Sam Reid

via ImmortalUniFan and pookiedpdl

Video: Taylor Swift's Midnights is Good But Not Essential | Keep It Podcast (it have a few guests besides Jacob)

✅ Jacob calling Sam his partner in crime and saying he feels so lucky that he got to spend every day with him ✅ Jacob says Sam’s hair has grown out and sometimes it’s a little bit alarming (“Sam, are you in there?”) but he ties it up and it looks cool

[dawnofiight]

Now Presenting: Sophia Rhone

[httpiastri]

quote of the year

[plasma-packin-mama]

I was actually already drawing harry on skates when I got this comment from @its-a-humanriot …so I went and threw in Kim Judit and Jean. Precinct 41 Team Building Night at the roller disco!!

Bonus sketchbook page:

I think Judit would be most enthusiastic to participate, she’d dress accordingly (if only to humor Harry). Jean is still in his work clothes. Kim… Kim if you can hear me I’m sorry I drew you in hot pants and a crop top…….. the spirit of scantily clad 70s athletes compelled me…. I considered redoing it to give him a regular undershirt bc it felt marginally more in character but then I remembered I don’t care and also look at him belly.

[skitskatdacat63]

Oh to be kissed the way Fernando Alonso kisses his trophies

+

[quaranmine]

On Wednesday before I gave my presentation I confessed to a new employee that I was worried it would be too long and she brightly told me her life hack was to just let AI rewrite things for her. She said I should put in all my talking points and ask ChatGPT to give me a five minute exactly presentation. I was like....how is the most polite possible way (since this is a new colleague I shouldn't get off on the wrong foot with) that I can express that I will Not be taking this advice. Ever. I told her that I didn't think we were allowed to use ChatGPT at this job (we most certainly are not, it is a nightmare for any type of protected information) and also that I prefer to write all of my own work. Despite my best efforts the last part of that was still passive aggressive, lol.

Something about being a writer makes it so that it's almost offensive to me for someone to suggest I use AI to do my work instead? Like, the day I reach the point where I let AI write something for me is the day y'all need to be checking me for brain damage because clearly I'm losing it

[kindaorangey]

i have no idea what happens in house md s8 except that wilson gets diagnosed with terminal cancer and it's crazy to me as an endpoint because it just seems so empty. i'm 99% sure most of the original cast has moved on by that point, the show has gone on for two long, the only thing that's left is these two forces that have been orbiting each other since the beginning of the show. and from what i can tell, they're (still!) each other's only friend, and wilson dies. the characters are almost trapped in the confines of the show, doomed to feel completely alone from start to finish. there's something about it that's existential in the same way as the last act of 2001: a space odyssey, or when the guy falls through time in interstellar, for some reason. the universe is empty and cruel and it does not care about you and life and love are fleeting. wilson asks house to tell him he loves him and house tells him no.

[ratatatastic]

local man haunts (me) open practise yet again more news at 11

[cillyscribbles]

джелли должны однаж- [megaphone connects] ДЖЕЛЛИ ДОЛЖНЫ ОДНАЖДЫ В ГОД,

[acebytaemin]

the way my boss pulled me away and told me ‘okay stupid question but. what are you afraid of? you always do everything so well so what are you afraid of?��� and it was so funny i was like i didn’t know he knew me like that. also damn it’s imposter syndrome not like i can help it !!!!!

[toytulini]

if you draw enough monster ocs, when you go back to drawing a human character, it feels like "sameface syndrome" everytime, by virtue of their face being. human.

[good-beanswrites]

Could you write a drabble for Mikoto and Shidou plus Blood? This request miiight be inspired by the fact that Mikoto mentions his body hurting a lot but doesn't seem to be receiving any medical treatment, either because Mahiru and Fuuta take priority or because there's no obvious cause, and therefore cure, to his pain...

👀👀👀 Thank you, this is such a good combo ough!! It's so interesting how much focus the others get when it comes to physical health, since Mikoto has clearly complained of his condition :( It looks like Milgram is trying to push the idea that he's completely oblivious to his alters, but I spun it where he's aware, just deep in denial. So have some Mikoto angst to get us hyped for Double!

Mikoto should be grateful. He was lucky. That’s what he kept repeating to himself. He had both of his eyes intact. Both his arms. He was strong enough to walk around freely. He wasn’t on the verge of death, or collapse. Thus, he should be grateful no one was offering him any help, because it meant he didn’t need it. He repeated it again. Maybe this time he would believe it.

With a groan, his body rolled out of bed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d woken up actually feeling rested. Everything ached. His muscles tightened with soreness. His throat felt as raw as his knuckles, though he hadn’t been using either. He had no desire to lift his arms over his head, or twist around too much, so he didn’t change out of yesterday’s uniform. Maybe the belts and buckles had made it difficult to sleep. The theory wasn’t a convincing one, but dwelling on things like that had never gotten him anywhere.

He ran his fingers once through his hair, combing out a bit of the mess. Looking in a mirror was the last thing he needed. He made his way to the dining hall. 

The others trickled in for breakfast. His appetite, at least, hadn’t suffered. He hardly noticed the others giving him wide-eyed stares. What were they expecting? Of course he was looking worse for wear, given the circumstances. He ignored them, glad to focus on the hot meal before him.

A hand weighed heavy on his shoulder.

“Mikoto,” Shidou’s voice may have remained calm, but it was urgent. “Do you need some help?”

“Huh?” He shrugged his hand away, offering a weak smile. “I’m fine! Oh, I think Kazui was saving a seat for you over there, if you --”

“-- How about we go to my cell for a moment? Or yours, if that would be more comfortable.”

What was everyone’s problem this morning? Mikoto did his best to keep his voice pleasant. “Really, man, I’m good.” 

Shidou’s expression remained unmoving. Very carefully, he informed him, “you’re bleeding. Pretty badly by the look of it. You’re coming with me.” 

Mikoto blinked. He looked over his shoulder, following Shidou’s gaze. The back of his uniform was torn across the center. A significant splotch of blood seeped into the material, growing even larger as he shifted to see it. 

“...Oh…” 

Back in Shidou’s cell, sad to have left his breakfast plate behind, he slumped into a chair. Shidou gathered together some supplies. As always, he got right to the point. “What happened?”

“I… I’m not sure. I don’t remember anything from last night. I don’t remember most nights, recently. I know that sounds crazy, but…”

“It’s fine. I have definitely heard crazier.” He smiled, something gentle and reassuring. As usual, there was something hidden behind his eyes. It was as if he already knew what Mikoto was up to late at night that earned him so much soreness the following days. He didn’t offer an explanation, though. Mikoto didn’t press him for one.

He winced as he was helped out of his uniform. Removing his shirt revealed the mysterious gash. Shidou’s eyes widened at the array of scratches and scars. Some were fresh, but most originated long before Milgram. Though he didn’t ask, Mikoto answered.

“I’m pretty clumsy, huh?” Maybe this time he would believe it. 

Shidou was kind enough to pretend to. “Here, allow me…”

Shidou got to work cleaning and dressing the injuries. Mikoto closed his eyes. Even though the disinfectant stung, and sometimes those gloved fingers pressed a little two hard, it felt nice to have things patched up. 

“Is there anything else going on? Are you feeling pain anywhere else?”

Mikoto could have laughed. He didn’t. “I’m just sore. And my head’s been killing me, but I’m used to migraines. Perks of the verdict, I’m sure.”

Shidou hummed in thought. 

“Thanks, by the way. I’ll try to be more careful.” Not that he had much choice in the matter, it seemed. But he’d do his best. 

Shidou kept his face straight, but there were traces of pain in his voice. “I will too. I’m sorry, Mikoto. If I had known… I’ve been distracted lately, but I should have paid closer attention.”

“It’s fine,” he flashed a grin. “I know the others are pretty fucked up. And I’m not dying or anything. I’m lucky, you know?”

“I wouldn’t say so. Doctors don’t only treat the dying.”

Mikoto frowned. 

It didn’t take much longer to finish treatment. Shidou gave him a few instructions about the bandages, then offered him a clean shirt. “You’re good to go. I’ll be checking in more often, now. I’ll see if I can find something for your head.” 

“Thanks. Really.”

He returned Mikoto’s torn uniform. “You should talk to Es about getting a new one. Until then, you’ll want to clean this with --”

Mikoto waved a dismissive hand, heading out of the cell. “Don’t worry, I know how to wash blood out of my clothes. Er, that sounds bad. I’m just a clutz, yeah? The blood’s always been my own.”

Maybe this time he would believe it.

[woodsborostabathon]

“how could richie’s family possibly want to avenge him when he groomed and murdered people” well first of all he did neither of those things so let’s start there