#how? i dunno tbh

[zecoritheweirdone]

hey if i told you guys that i made a whole slideshow for vagabonds where i gathered all my theories into one place, would you guys be interested?

[boar-cry]

not like you could ever remember anyway. ( you were an Idealist, not a Dreamer. )

( 1 , 2 , 3 )

[cowardlykrow]

"That is where you are wrong, my boy!"

@ratb4stard3 and I deliver another Cowardlyghostbro's(™) collab ✨💛

[nensami]

martyn shouting "give me anything you got!" just had me THINKINNNN

[heartscrypt]

argument overruled just took your second bishop. noob

[ashipiko]

GET CHILCHUCK’D

[bixels]

What did/do you like about Pharah?

Uh, gameplay-wise, I really love characters in shooters who rely on three-dimensional movement techs. Chaining together hover and jump to stay in the air for as long as possible and keep momentum is so satisfying, and picking enemies off from the sky made me feel like a bird of prey. I was a good Pharah main.

Story-wise, there unfortunately isn't much to canonically go off because Pharah is so underutilized and neglected. Her personality's pretty boilerplate "heroic hero" (she's literally inspired by Captain America).

But it's the crumbs/bits and pieces that I really latched onto. Pharah's a confirmed lesbian; her short story with Baptiste implies she harbors a crush on Mercy (fucking thank you.). She's biracial Egyptian/First Nations. She has major mommy issues, having grown up both admiring and resenting Ana. She's the bridge between Old Overwatch, inspired by the idealized heroes who surrounded her childhood, and New Overwatch. She's one of the only inter-generational characters in the cast; someone whose experiences span the gap, which is why I seriously believe Pharah would make a great main character.

There isn't much to go off of, though; she's a very uncomplicated character (she's a soldier for a private military corporation, lol.). But that just means she's a blank slate character, so I've seen fanfic writers run wild and create some really interesting takes on her. My favorite interpretation of her's a dense, herbo gym-bro type (a lot of her liens are about work outs, exercising, and playing sports) who's easily excitable under her seemingly self-serious, armored visage. We see how she tends to gloat and hype herself up when she's on a streak too, so Pharah definitely has a competitive and boastful side under her more professional and militant performance.

Now Mercy? Mercy is a real complex character.

[slimey-wallz]

I had the biggest, chunkiest, art block I've ever had in my WHOLE EXISTENCE. So I scavenged through Tumblr to get inspo, for like 2 hours or something, and I came across this AWESOME person, @sketchquill, who just HAPPENED TO HAVE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL OC EVER, and so one thing led to another :) 💕

w/ long hair 💕✨

Can't forget the little guy!

When I finished this I realized that I could have been working on my inbox requests and refs. *Sigh*

[oneshotgremlin]

Up and Down

Thoughts on how beings generally perceive their world one spatial dimension lower than the dimensionality of the space they inhabit:

In the flatlands, the way people perceive the world around them is through lines, and so visual receptors HAVE to be on the edges of their shapes

Otherwise by all accounts the person would be effectively blind

So Mrs.Red and Mr.Blue have this strange yellow boy

Who appears to be born with no eyes

(It’s directly in his center, but without tests and doctors nobody can see it)

And for all intents and purposes, the boy is blind

He has to feel his way around buildings and people (in his hand a black cane that his parents bought to aid him)

And he doesn’t know what his parents look like, and only knows them by their voice as they guide him

They love him all the same, regardless

(Meanwhile, he stares up at the infinite expanse of the night sky. But the thing about infinity is that it makes where you stand so infinitesimally tiny in comparison, and no matter how far you run side to side the stars do not move an inch for you. And if they’re all someone sees, the only logical conclusion that can be drawn is that where they are is unspeakably, claustrophobically small)

(It doesn’t matter if the kids at school bully him and the adults look at him with pity and disdain that he can’t even see, because don’t they know how SMALL they are? Don’t they know how small EVERYTHING is?)

And so, with years and years and nowhere else to go, Bill reaches UP

(And no-one else has tried before, because why would they? There is no up or down to conceive, only forwards and backwards and left and right.)

It takes unimaginable amounts of energy to punch a rift into a dimension. In a time and space unmeasurably far away, a six fingered man and his five fingered twin would learn that lesson well

In the flatlands, it’s less of an interdimensional portal looming ominously in a metal room and more of a calculation

l is for length. w is for width. h is for height

And like a computer told to divide by zero, everything falls apart

Did you know that when energetic particles that erupt from the stars collide with a sufficiently nitrogen rich atmosphere, it produces the color blue?

Did you know the only reason the flatlanders didn’t drift off into the freezing cold yet boiling hot void of space, despite not having a planet with the volume and mass needed to produce a gravitational field, is their dimension’s lack of third dimensionality?

Like insects pinned underneath glass, yet the glass protected their corpses from falling apart?

They scream. He cries. He laughs. They die.

It’s an old saying: “When gravity falls and earth becomes sky beware the beast with just one eye”

And when little Billy looks away from the stars, looks down to finally see his tiny, minuscule home

For the first and last time, he sees a blue triangle with a hat, and a red triangle with a bow.

[static-scribblez]

Man I love litwtc’s new mascot

[gelarshiesprofruitboarder]

these work better in the video i made but uploading vids on here is hell so

[gooodomens]

if anything happens to muriel i swear 🥲

[ripplestitchskein]

The way Bryce perfectly depicts the universal drunk girl crying and getting complimented at a party energy of Stolas’s “Thank you” when his twunk compliments his singing is peak voice acting.

[danni-nip-nip-nyan]

Radiostatic double feature‼️Alastor feeling himself and Val feeling up Vox

Vox took longer but I like the Alastor one better (wow who could've guessed)

Alastor without the glitchy stuf

The backgrounds r from the I bispaint library, I just put a color layer over them

Paper sketches for the pieces:

I can't wait for hazbin to get out of my brain so I can draw other stuff

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

One of my favorite things that happened during my last mage Hawke playthrough was during the final battle against Meredith. Everything's going well. We're kicking her ass, she's got just this much health left, we're so close... but then everyone gets stunned dizzy.

Hawke is stumbling around all confused, seeing stars. The rest of his companions are stunned. I'm annoyed because I just want to end this fight. Don't know how or who did it, probably Meredith, but the situation's dire.

Meredith's standing by herself at the center of the Gallows, shouting nonsense and smugly believing the Maker's going to come down and make her his new bride after she murdered a bunch of innocent people.

Truly, this is the part of the story where Varric says they all thought hope was lost, that in the end, Meredith would pull a fast one on us and claim victory...

Until the REAL hero of dragon age 2 comes storming at her. I don't know why Carver was the only one to not be affected, but he literally jumped out of no where and just started bashing Meredith with his sword while everyone else was too dizzy to do anything until she was dead and the cutscene played.

"Hawke defeated Meredith-" LIES, VARRIC. I know the truth! I was there! Hawke didn't do shit! Carver Hawke was the main character all along! He got shit done and Varric gave Hawke all the credit!

I bring this up because last night I finished my warrior Hawke run and when we got to the fight with Meredith, I kind of hoped the same thing would happen where Bethany dashed in all heroic and got the killing blow on Meredith.

She did not.

She got squished by a statue.

But it's fine, Bethany Hawke was the true main character in my heart.

[anonymous-dentist]

Or: the childhood friends au:

-

Roier doesn’t remember a lot of his childhood, but he remembers enough to know that he was a bit of a little shit. He was a problem child. He probably has the outline of a shoe tattooed onto his back after all the shit he got up to as a kid.

(R-01 gets one hour of supervised outdoor time every day to keep him from getting sick. He sits beneath the big oak tree in the facility’s enclosed garden, and he lets his fingers twist in the grass beneath him.

[The grass isn’t real, but he doesn’t know this yet.]

He sticks his tongue out to catch the sunlight, all of seven years old and unsure as to what sunlight tastes like.

Abuelo stands by him complaining, but all R-01 hears is static.

And then there’s a rough hand yanking him to his feet and dragging him back into the facility. Apparently, according to Abuelo, someone has managed to sneak into the facility.)

But it’s fine, really. Roier doesn’t need to remember his past to know who he is, and he knows who he is. He’s Roier! He likes tacos and kissing men.

In his sleep, Cellbit rolls onto his side and latches a clingy arm over Roier’s waist. He snuggles close, face burying itself in Roier’s shoulder with a pleased little ‘Mrrp!’ noise. His tail brushes against Roier’s thigh just once before settling down.

Roier smiles into the night. There are dark circles under his eyes and a sick feeling in his stomach and a gnawing something in the back of his mind.

He can’t sleep. Which is kinda funny, really, considering he’s usually the one asleep clinging to his overworking husband.

(R-01 stays in his cell for days listening for the jingle of Abuelo’s keys, but all he hears is the familiar screaming of the duck in the room next door. Must be her feathers again.

With a sigh, R-01 paces to the other side of his cell. She’s loud!

That’s when he hears it: a soft sobbing from the cell next to Roier’s. Not the duck, she’s loud. This is quiet, and there isn’t any quacking.

R-01 gasps. Someone new!

“Hola?” he dares whisper, not too loud ‘cause he doesn’t want to get in trouble, but he doesn’t like crying. It’s illegal. Abuelo doesn’t like it.

The crying stops. Then something taps at the wall right next to Roier’s ear. Another tap, and another, and it’s code, right? It has to be!

R-01 isn’t very smart, Abuelo tells him this every time they do their lessons, but he’s got this! If it’ll keep his new neighbor from crying and getting in trouble, he’ll solve this… this enigma!)

Richarlyson is with Bad again, and Pepito is staying with Quackity again, and Cellbit is asleep. So it’s just Roier and his thoughts and the distinct lack thereof that he’s trying to find somewhere in the mess that is his silly goofy little brain.

“You’re thinking,” Cellbit suddenly grumbles, jolting Roier from his thoughts (and the distinct lack thereof.) His voice is thick with sleep. Adorable. “Stop thinking. That’s my job.”

“What? You? Thinking? No way.”

Roier shifts in bed until he’s on his side facing Cellbit. Cellbit moves with him, pulling him fully into his arms and melting as Roier’s fingers find their ways to the hair at the base of his ears.

“Go back to sleep, gatinho,” Roier says.

Cellbit purrs at him in mild disagreement.

“What’s wrong?” Cellbit asks. He’s only halfway awake, but at least he cares.

(R-01 slowly manages to figure it out. He uses his mandatory arts and crafts time with Abuelo practicing his alphabet with colorful finger paints that make Abuelo sneer in disgust every time R-01 uses them on his own face.

His neighbor is talking to him, and it’s a secret. R-01 is basically a spy!

Every tap is a letter, he thinks. So two taps means “B”! Easy.

So, while Abuelo is busy with the duck, R-01 sneaks to the other wall and taps out a “Hola!”

The response is immediate and a bit too fast for him to be able to get, but he hears seven taps and then one tap and that’s “G” and “A” and there’s gotta be more, right? What words start with that?

Hesitantly, R-01 taps out: “MEOW”.

The duck screams. The neighbor laughs. The guards outside start shouting and banging and shooting. Footsteps come down the hallway, and then they say, “No.”

And then it’s quiet.)

“Nothing,” Roier lies. But, well, it’s only sorta a lie, right? Nothing illegal. Marriage-illegal.

“Okay,” Cellbit simply says, and then it’s quiet.

He purrs, rusty from exhaustion.

Roier pets him idly, eyes shut tight.

“It’s just…” he slowly says, “Bagi isn’t a cat hybrid, is she?”

Cellbit’s purring stops.

(R-01 wakes up on the table this time. He screams as the bear’s scalpel cuts into the skin beneath his eye, squirming in his restraints.

“No,” the bear simply says.

It’s the mean one, the one with the knife. R-01 doesn’t like this one; it’s the one he heard outside of the cat’s room. And he hasn’t heard from the cat since.)

Roier doesn’t remember much of his childhood, but at least he remembers having a childhood. Cellbit doesn’t have that luxury. It’s kind of his whole thing at the moment, working through his assloads of trauma one tiny little baby step at a time.

All Roier knows, and all that Cellbit knows, is that Cellbit crashed onto the island with cat ears and a tail, and that Bagi is totally and entirely human.

“But maybe you just got the furry genes,” Roier suggests.

He feigns a yawn and scratches the spot between Cellbit’s ears he knows makes Cellbit turn to goo, and goo does Cellbit become.

“Guapito…” Cellbit sighs.

Roier cuts him off with a ‘Shhh.’

“In the morning,” he promises. “I promise.”

“Mmmm,” Cellbit agrees, as smart and as well-spoken as ever. “‘Kay.”

Roier smiles, more genuine, and he kisses Cellbit once before at least trying to relax. It’s fine, right?

(R-01 gets one hour of supervised outdoor time every day to keep him from getting sick.

He waits until Abuelo isn’t paying attention to stretch his hand up towards the sun.

The duck is gone. They’re still looking for her. And R-01 is still looking for the cat.

The garden is surrounded by four walls, but there’s no ceiling. Just the open air, because ducks can’t fly. No risk of escape.

But spiders can climb.

Squeezing one eye shut and sticking his tongue out in concentration, R-01 points his fingers at the top of the nearest wall like how he thinks a superhero would. Because he is a superhero now!

The web comes out as painfully as ever, but all R-01 cares about is the wind against his skin as he’s pulled out of the garden and to freedom.

Abuelo is angry and shouting down below, but who cares? R-01 is a superhero now! They made him one, and he’s got a kitty to save somewhere!)

[Cellbit’s parents used to chastise him and his sister, telling him, “Curiosity killed the cat!” But Bagi had always argued that, well, so what? They aren’t cats! They’re people!

But then the bear said the same thing as it stuck the IV in Cellbit’s arm. And Cellbit thought of the dead little girl with rabbit ears he found in the woods, and the dead little boy with the bird wings, and, at the ripe old age of eleven years old, he cried as he realized how big of a mistake he had made.]