#So yeah I suppose this is the name

[would-holden-caulfield-like-nge]

One of Gary's possible futures

So this is an idea we came up with on the Bully Discord, and I got a bit possessed.

Imagine: After the events of the game, Gary decides to give up on society entirely. And so he locks himself in his room. He spends his days on early 2010s internet, making uber edgy cartoons on Newgrounds.

I imagine he would be similar to Shadman and Emily Youcis (Alfred's Playhouse). Just spending all his time making stuff that makes it really obvious there is something wrong with him. I really do think he would love being on the internet, because he could spread his gospel to as many people as possible (and maybe get some admirers willing to feed his ego). Though, a lot of his stuff would probably be standard edgy schlock.

Of course, all of this would make him even more mentally ill, which would lead to him spending more time online, leading to a pretty vicious cycle. Even when he wouldn't be animating or talking to people online, he would be writing manifestos, or sometimes, reading the same few books over and over again. All of that on his bed.

If you wanna be optimistic, maybe he could turn things around and eventually become an animator at Nickelodeon or something. But that would require him to re-enter that gosh darn western society, which would be the last thing he'd want. Or maybe Jimmy could come stage an intervention for him, who knows!

Textless version of the first image

Gary's profile picture. Later on, I made the bright green outline bigger, so the picture would read better even when small.

[palskippah]

I LOVE BROPPY

*gives them babies*

[gongedtornado]

this is super rough but…. gummigoo’s mom interpretation

(more ramblings in tags)

finished interpretation here!!!

[umblrspectrum]

Can we get more of the murder drone x rain world au?

ok

[bandtrees]

they would get divorced in one universe just to find eachother in another one

alternatively titled: sometimes you're the level-headed token flesh-head impulse-control-and-polycule-member of a stubborn, eccentric, and hearty telephone-headed drug addict, and there's cruelty in the world you deem fit to suicidally fight, and that either goes about as well as you'd expect it to, or you learn about love and the value of your life and junk along the way

[cruel-hiraeth]

WHAT COULD HAVE BEEN ꒰ ajax tartaglia childe x reader ꒱

cw: a little angst, a little romance, a lot of ambiguity. wc: 777. notes: this is based on a prompt—childe x the last time you see each other, but only one of you is aware of the fact—suggested by my loveliest bitti @rabbbitseason and leigh @sugurei.

Snow flurries dot his lashes, kissing the freckles that dust his strawberry cheeks as he knocks on your door—nearly too short of breath for his dimpled smile to be convincing. While he knows the news (held it as a secret from you, one which putrefied and festered until it nearly rotted his organs), nothing could prepare him for this meeting.

The door creaks open. Behind it, your face is wan and drawn up, funerary. Once lively and headstrong, the sunny candlelight of your eyes—a balm that soothed his soul in foreign lands, an omniscient presence in his fondest memories—has been snuffed.

“I take it you’ve heard the news?”

For perhaps the first time in his life, Ajax doesn’t have a biting or witty remark; he simply stares at you for a beat too long, then nods. He wishes you would tease him, now, just like you used to. 

The scoff that leaves your lips is a comforting, familiar sound. Yet it’s ephemeral—over before he can appreciate it. He steps inside your room. 

A private dwelling on the Fatui base is sought-after, and your friend was able to pull some strings as a Harbinger to secure you your own space. Your quarters are exceedingly cramped, and have only the necessities: a standard cot, a wet bath, and a kitchen with a sink, a hot plate, and a narrow counter. There’s a table attached to a wall in the entryway—unusable during the lingering, frigid winters—accompanied by a pair of folding chairs. 

You treat him too formally, he thinks mirthfully, as you busy yourself brewing tea that he gifted you after a trip to Liyue. It’s your pride that keeps an appropriate amount of distance between your bodies, that firmly measures your tone, that keeps your heated glances brief. But it’s also your pride that drew him to you. 

(Ajax was never good at backing down from a challenge.)

Tears silently slip down your cheeks as you work with your back to him, swallowing any noise that threatens to bubble past your lips, though—unbeknownst to you—he understands what the telltale tremble of your shoulders means. With a delicate hand, you pour boiling water over the precious tea leaves and watch as they slowly bleed into liquid amber.

The quiet in your small home stretches uncomfortably thin. Words catch along the curve of your tongue and the tip of his; neither of you can vocalize your emotions. His boot taps against the floor, your fingers against the counter. 

When you serve Ajax his tea, his ultramarine stare pins you in place, unfurling your wings and your worries. He soaks in your watery gaze, and wishes (cruelly, selfishly) that he could revel in the beauty of your sorrow; perhaps he should—before it’s too late. But he can’t bring himself to hurt you further, no matter how desperately he wants to taste you, salt and spit and skin. 

“It’s just for a few years,” you reason aloud, absentmindedly worrying with the side of your porcelain cup—another gift from your companion. Your voice is thick with all that remains unsaid; it quavers.

“The Chasm is a treacherous place,” you say between sips of scalding tea that burns your tongue, “but I have faith in the Tsaritsa’s infinite wisdom. She will see to the safety of our expedition.”

No blade could cut through the tense air between you. Ajax clears his throat and musters a smile that feels like a lie. “It will be over before we know it.”

He reaches for your hand—palm upwards, welcoming—and you take it. The lambskin of his glove is soft, warm from the blood thrumming through his veins. You rest in silken stillness for a few moments, intertwined like that, chests rising and falling in unison. Then, he brings your hand to his lips, and brushes a kiss against your knuckles. It’s as brief and gentle as the flap of a crystalfly’s wings, yet the caress steals your breath—as does the flame-blue burn of his eyes. 

Before you can say anything (and before he does something he shouldn’t), he rises to his feet and grasps the doorknob. A rushed “I’ll miss you” is all he can utter before ripping the door open and slamming it shut.

Tsaritsa forgive me.

He repeats the words over and over like a mantra, tears blurring his vision, though the archon isn’t the one he should be asking for forgiveness; she’s not the one who is about to embark on a mission that’s as good as a death sentence. 

But you? 

Left to your fate, thoughts of what could have been prickle your flesh, steam curling up from the cup of Ajax’s untouched tea.

[royaltea000]

[jttw oc] cursed to be an obligate carnivore, ate his entire family one particularly bad winter

[ask-the-rag-dolly]

For 00, how do you pronounce that??

I've been flip-flopping between 'ooo', 'double zero', 'agent double oh', 'zero zero', 'oh-oh', 'mother', and 'greenie gremlin'. Are any of those correct?

they're all correct though i generally go for ' zero ' or ' number zero ' for convenience .

not really sure about ' mother ' though . they're more like ' fucked up cousin ' .

[s735]

Here's my goober!!

He's my only Transformers OC at the moment, so I am quite attatched to the guy.

Here's some old full body pics from December

[spookythesillyfella]

hey guys . heres my fair share of doodles from the magma i drew on with my big bro @chamom1le-t3a

[television--addict]

WHITEBOARD WITH MY AMAZING PERFECT PARTNER @college-knockout !!!!!!!!!!!

Smiles agressively

I like only drew alan Becker art lmao

….

For one horrible second i posted this without the art in it.

[the-real-couchrat]

Some REALLY messy doodles of the fic The Many Pets of Tyrone, which I now love to death. I don’t think I’ll ever end up finishing these, but I wanted to post them anyway.

All the forms together:

The image that appeared in my mind before I finished reading that all the birds reseller ravens:

And a cowboy Alcor with his cattle (and “horse”)

The horse design was inspired by this, and the cowboy outfit was taken from here.

[nightmarearian]

More Naga Odysseus and Poseidon👀?

ajdhjdbehfn tbh I drew this awhile ago (intended for a certain someone hi evergreen) but wanted to color it but procrastinated on that for like two weeks so here we are; hope you like it

don’t really have more ideas on Poseidon & Naga Ody interactions that baaaasically don’t boil down to this, though I’ve verrrrry open to ideas & suggestions :9

[front-facing-pokemon]

[le-agent-egg]

fellas. is it cringe to make a whole comic about your fankid?

god their relationship makes me INSANE. i am very normal. wahhhhh

yeah this is based off that steven universe episode

[iceinherheart-kissonherlips]

“That old reflex never died; the little pang of Don't go, just stay. Settle over me like the tide, cover me like a blanket, wrap around me like the sun. 

Don't go, don't go, don't go.” [x]