#but in practice everyone is mixed

[canisalbus]

You’ve most likely answered this before but what breed exactly is Machete? I’ve been trying to figure it out for a while I’ve thought maybe a saluki but the ears arnt right.

In theory his breed is fictional Podenco Siciliano, but he's not a purebred example. Out of existing dog breeds he looks closest to (and is related to) Ibizan Hound.

But sometimes I see Silken Windhounds that also kind of remind me of him. They just don't have the characteristic bat ears.

[pluralhottakes]

willogenic systems are 100% valid and not faking! Most of us don’t even claim to have DID/OSDD,so yh

-💗🌸/🩵🎀

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[flea-palace]

not to defend madeleine oftheopera but. can we talk about her being only nineteen years old !! at the beginning of the book

[chameleon3]

band camp i miss u come here

[sam-montembeault]

okk uhm imma go for monty/doby too and uhh

knee injury?

If you're a goalie in the NHL or any level of professional league really, it becomes inevitable that you spend a lot of time stretching, and if you're lucky and you're both friendly or at least in détente, you spend a lot of time stretching with the other goalie on the team.

Jakub likes getting to stretch with Sam. They each have their own routines, but sometimes on practice days they'll shake it up, trying each other's peculiarities. 

He likes getting to watch; he shouldn't. But he does. 

They're running through a battery focused on internal hip rotation, and Jakub really shouldn't be watching the patient tightness of Sam's core, the slow swivel of his inner thighs as he switches 90s. Sam's leaned back on his arms, chin doubled up as he stares at some point indiscriminately in the flooring. 

He's not seeing Jakub watching.

The thing is, unless Jakub wants to replace his hips before 25, he has to stretch too, and actually focus on it, so he doesn't notice that Sam's stopped until there's a very light hand hovering under his right knee. 

And Jakub's paused, balanced on his fingertips and other knee with his ass hovering over his heel, rocked back into a careful, controlled loosening of his adductors.

Sam's fingers brush like feathers.

"Don't let this twist while you stretch," he says unusually softly. "Don't lock it either. You know this."

He does. His leg had barely drooped. 

Sam's hand is on him anyway, warm and for a moment, leaving heat like a stain.

"Have a good pratique today," Sam says as he gets up. Now Jakub's the one staring at the floor, red faced. 

"You too."

[persy-r-bozo]

with the whole lesley thing- i've heard so many different theories about how she's meant to represent yellow guy's mom and such. what do you think?

SUUUCH a good question dude!

I do see Lesley as yellows mom sorta but not in the "useual" way i suppose. I see lesley as a silly chaotic being who is sad but also like goofy. its hard to explain i suppose. i see her more as eldritchian

But i think its a funny idea Like how did Roy? how did they even meet!? WHy Roy????

I see her as a weird creature, the puppets have blood, but she has stuffing. she's something odd yet she's one of them, something mind breaking to them, Hell even to us, as we didn't really expect to see an actual person actor in this series.

puppets skin may be felt but they are more "human" If that makes sense.

but as said before. back to topic

the eldritch being had a kid with some rando and thats fucking funny. and makes the idea of yellows mommy issues way more weird because like . damn bro didn't have it hard enough? TF?

[irondeficientf3r0ck]

I need to draw Epic the Musical SMP AU right NOW

[knightkaito1412]

Mafiatale, my beloved! I love that AU so much, so I had to draw my sona/OC and the skelebois in fancy outfits fit for that era!

I have a few ideas about these three, but it's not like anyone has been interested in learning about them, haha, so I'll just leave my art here. (ノ*°▽°*)

[s-ccaam-era-crepe]

just left the tnc/bug hunter concert wooo!!!

[transmasc-rose]

One more AU to propose: at the end of Brotherhood, taking ac3's declaration of how the Apple works as fact, Desmond sees the satellite not working, sees Abstergo failing--and rather than kill Lucy, either manages to turn and kill no one (unlikely, given Juno's influence) or ends up stabbing Shaun and/or Rebecca instead, with the idea that maybe, if he talked to the Templars, he could make them understand, that their plan is flawed, that they need to try something else--

Because if the Templars, in all their money and planning and resources are failing, how could the Assassins succeed?

(This would royally piss off Juno.)

I don't think this would go well. I think, even if he and Lucy succeeded, made the Templars change plans, and that worked, the result would be bittersweet at best. A lot of people dead or under their control, with the Assassins being in an even worse state. Power granted to the Templars that make them rise even higher.

There's a good chance they don't succeed at all.

But he'll never know if things would go better if he'd chosen the other path.

(Maybe there's a world where he does convince the Assassins and Templars to work together on this. But that's a much kinder world than the games see fit to give him. So that is out of his grasp.)

[tiktaaliker]

ok I know I'm already in the process of writing an extremely long video game retelling/au where the protag is a nonhuman who gets suddenly and unwillingly put in a situation where they have to pass as A Normal Guy by the threat of harm/death while also being put into a role where they're the Only One capable of saving the world. but what if I started a DIFFERENT one too

[rigil-kentauris]

Prompt #9: Lend an Ear

[A glass display case in the middle of the exhibit. The black velvet pillar holds an old leather writing journal. The plaque on the case notes it as belonging to a member of the Ishgardian Halonic Church. It is laid open to a page towards the middle. A translation is provided on the plaque. The translation reads:]

I have found very little of value in my work of late.

Perhaps there were those who were corrupt - nay. Count me not possessed of a false tongue here amongst my own recollections. There were those who were corrupt. How often did I see them take for themselves what they liked of time, of wealth, of... never of people. I hope I would have had the strength to stand up had I seen that. Yet...

There was corruption. But did we not serve some purpose?

I think of Orrount. He was battle-struck. He didn't talk for a twelvemoon after he returned to the city. He'd never arrive in time for the sermons, either. He'd come in late and sit, silently. 'Twas not as cold then as it is now, and yet I couldn't bear it. He wouldn't take comfort, but in time he would let me read the notes from the service to him. When he started talking... ye gods. I did not have the strength of limb to join a knight's order when I was a youth, and I knew on the first day he did tell me of the horrors he bore witness to that I would not have had the strength of mind. I let him talk until complines, then he left, and I left what what remained of my supper in a vase.

The next week I did it again. And the next, and the next. He brought a fellow, and she, another.

We did help. I want to remember that.

He... a friend of his left to be with Halone last week. I worry. I worry, I worry. He and so many others haven't stepped a foot near our doors since... since we were betrayed by his Holiness.

I don't...

I want to be angry. Halone councils the purifying relief of fury. Gods, I want, and yet... I cannot see why someone would do what has been done to us.

...and. and.... and having admitted such, I cannot likewise imagine why someone, having discovered the enormity of such a foul festering lie, would have... would have...

Why? Why lie? Why reveal it?

I helped people. I did.

I did.

But why would anyone trust us, ever again?

[salsedinepicta]

WIP Whenever

Tagged by the ever lovely @greypetrel 💙✨ thank youuu!

These past weeks have not been the most productive ever from a creative point of view - but I'm almost done with the Unnamed Lavellan thingy! I just need to figure out if I like the dark frame or not.

(I've also sketched another portrait because I like that hairstyle with the braid, that's it that's the reason)

I've also started to sketch the other prompt (mythology inspired yasss), so have a spoiler AKA the visuals™

I'm too tired to think of people to tag, but if YOU want to share something - please go ahead and consider yourself tagged by me!

[bmpmp3]

listen to my tuning attempts boy (svp by ryu)

[caramelmochacrow]

*crashes the d4dj tag window open* WHAT IF. IKEMEN PEAKY. IN SUITS AND SHIT. OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO

[foldingfittedsheets]

When I was a TA for the freshman art class in senior year my students really adored me. It was so sweet. I’d had classes that were more ambivalent toward me but these guys were all about me.

I loved working with that teacher too. He was the kind of crunchy art nerd whose own kid didn’t know what candy was, who loved bird watching and wearing tweed. We’d chat while they worked and it was just a three hour pleasure rather than work.

When the class switched from charcoal to gouache a devil medium, the evilest watercolor, the students struggled. We’d have in class painting where they’d spend the whole time trying to mix one color instead of just accepting something as good enough and trying to practice other skills.

So one day I showed up to my shift and announced, “I have stickers. If you get color down for the whole composition, you get a sticker.”

They wanted. The stickers. So bad. Students who had agonized before about keeping lines neat and perfect plowed ahead. The first student to call me over I tsked at. “Putting grey on everything doesn’t count,” I chided, “I asked for colors on each object.”

The classroom worked in furious joy, young adults who had seen my bird and cactus stickers and gone feral. The teacher was flabbergasted. “Why do they want stickers? They could just buy stickers…”

I held up my water bottle and showed him a tiny 3D bubble sticker the program director had brought to my game teams space last week. “You never grow out of wanting to earn a sticker.”

By the end of class everyone had a sticker. There was more visible improvement in the work too, which surprised them since they’d been rushing. “Gouache looks terrible before it looks good. It’s okay to start messy and then refine.” The teacher had said the same thing but looking at their frantic sticker paintings they finally saw the truth of it.