#i really like this picture though :'D

[crescentfool]

happy mochizuki monday, have a little doodle i made based on a convention i went to this past weekend :)

[keeps-ache]

sigh. i think i just do not like dogs very much lol

[parisoonic]

you draw like the official tf2 comics... i am EATING it

thank you! that was a fun excercise - it's always interesting to analyse why styles look Like That! some of it is technical (chunky thick black outlines w/ no broken lineart for easy point-and-click colour filling for a 70 page comic) others are more subtle (everything has 3 shadow tones more or less and you can have shadows WITHIN shadows which is crazy to me...i never do that in my personal art haha) I was learning how to draw people for the first time by looking at tf2 comics 12+ years ago so its makes sense that there's a bit of influence hanging around as the bedrock of my style even now

[good-beanswrites]

Hello! So like I've been having that Lights, Camera, Sing Your Sins AU rent free in my head for a while, and thought this up.

Since the prisoners weren't allowed to meet at first, they could hear the others practicing their singing nearby/next door. Some are awed by how passionate they put into their songs (eg: Haruka & Shidou), how into it (eg: Fuuta & Kotoko), how emotional (eg: Kazui), etc. This allowed the prisoners to imagine what the others are like.

...Then there's Mikoto with Red going all out with their MeMe song and it stunned everyone into silent fear until the prisoners meet him and go "YOU SANG THAT!?!"

I've been going so so crazy over this omg!!

No matter how big the facilities are, I'd imagine it would be difficult to keep ten people undergoing a full filming process completely separate from each other. Though they don't actually see each other, they overhear recording booth sessions while while walking down the hall. They spot unique outfits and props in the costume closet. They hear crew members giving Jackalope weird updates ("sir, where do you want the massive tarot cards when they're finished?" "the order of thousands of fake flowers has arrived" "we ran out of medieval outfits" etc.) They see teams lugging around massive set pieces from one stage to another. They hear a few hushed rehearsals from behind dressing room doors.

Mahiru totally tears up listening to Kazui. Meanwhile Kazui is blown away by Mahiru's enthusiasm and speed. Yuno thinks After Pain sounds really fun. Amane is awed at the other songs, (she's never even heard rock music before). Kotoko finds herself singing bits of Weakness. Muu is moved by Shidou. Fuuta is torn between being jealous of Mikoto's song and excited there's someone else with some yelling.

And so of course, the prisoners go crazy trying to piece together predictions about their upcoming cellmates. One the experiment begins, they subconsciously start matching up the voices they remembered hearing with their expectations. I think Shidou, Amane, and Kotoko would surprise people the most -- it seems hard hard to get a day-to-day read on them from their songs alone. Fuuta is simultaneously exactly what people were expecting and nothing like what they thought. Everyone's ideas of Mahiru were spot on. Haruka sang so confidently that the group is surprised to hear him stutter so often. Anyone who heard a bit of Meme is shocked when they meet Mikoto and make the connection. When asked about it, he just shrugs and laughs innocently, which only makes it harder to believe. Fuuta, excited to find someone else who did a rock song, is sorely disappointed at first.

[mad-hunts]

jokethur asked: ❝ that's not the worst thing i've ever heard but it's certainly up there. ❞

one might argue that the way barton huffed through his nostrils in a wry sense of disbelief at what he heard come out of the other's mouth, rather than at the terrible thing that was just said through his own lips without an ounce of shame, told you everything you needed to know about him; that he was a brutal and very unfeeling person. but honestly, even if those things were the least bit true, barton thought... he was only saying what everyone would be thinking in their heads if they knew what was really going on behind the scenes. they just wouldn't want to say it aloud for one reason or another, whether that was due to the fear of being ostracized by their peers, or frowned down upon by society as a whole. kind of like how he was currently by the man standing beside him.

barton took a long drag out of his cigarette and averted his gaze from one of the big, bright displays that decorated the skyline to meet the others eyes. the displays were showcasing what looked like the latest news: and that was what barton seemingly was making a comment on, as the death of a cop that was rather infamous for being a ' pinnacle of kindness and care to their community ' was the main headline for that day. except that man was everything but in reality. it was just so rich to be seeing him regarded as some fantastic guy, when barton knew for a fact that he was a sleazeball who he had seen hanging around his old boss, as he was secretly in their pocket and doing their dirty work. and if there was one person that barton held contempt for more than anything... it was the man who used to treat him like he was something less than human. or, less than dirt, actually.

but of course, barton would never tell the gcpd of his corruption because he knew that rainer (you have to put a face to the name for these people) would realize that it was him who'd sold him out. and besides... since when did he have faith in the gcpd, or even like the police? they were all a bunch of pigs to him. so, barton let him continue on with his little game of playing the role of the well-beloved police officer while he was helping people get killed on the side. he rolled his eyes then, ❝ well, if i had known that you were such a big fan of the police, then i likely wouldn't have said anything. but i rest my case: a lot of people do deserve to die, stranger, and he was one of them. so i don't feel sorry for him or his family at all. ❞

barton stated this all in a very matter-of-fact manner, blowing smoke out through his nose from his cigarette before he continued, ❝ i mean, where was this guy if he was so good whenever the city got flooded? i didn't see him among the people who were helping other's whenever everything went to shit. in fact, i bet he was probably sitting in some place really safe and warm whenever it happened, because i knew the real kind of person that he was. a total prick who certainly wasn't the golden boy that the news is trying to make him out to be, ❞ he flicked his cigarette down on the ground and smushed it underneath his boot, successfully putting out the fire on its other end. barton turned to face arthur completely with an unamused look in his eyes.

❝ now, are you done preaching to me about how wrong it is that i said that? you don't really know the first thing about the pig after all. but i do. though you didn't hear that from me, alright? ❞

[theflyingfeeling]

thank you @kaunisbaby @demon-fae @because-its-eurovision and @ss4nni for tagging me 🥺💗

instructions: on pinterest, search [your name + core], post 6 pictures and tag 6 people

...alas I have a stupid-ass name and couldn't get enough results for my first name to compile a moodboard I'd want to post, so I made one with my URL instead (which was kinda of a struggle as well, how the fuck did y'all get such cool pictures?! 😭)

tagging anyone who hasn't done this yet and wants to ✨

[smile-files]

went to the relationship page of td's wiki page. there are people arguing about woodrop in the comments. hello

[red-hemlock]

Fan Fiction/RP Tropes tier list

Tagged by: @cxpperhead

Tagging: (Anyone who wants to do thiiiis @-tag me. <3)

[icewindandboringhorror]

various little Pictures of thinges

[sysig]

Some possible* Tala stickers :D (Patreon)

[rainingincale]

@maingoes created a tag game, here is the description:

"Topic is covers of books that definitely changed your brain on some sort of minuscule but permanent level or that you think your childhood experience would’ve have been different without (longest title of a tag game ever I know) my only 2 rules are u should have read the book before age 10 and you cannot include the HP series"

Here are my books:

I shall tag @j-purplesunsets-rainydays @jesperfaheygf @cancara @mostlykind @captainjanegay @holdingontozouis and anyone else who sees this and wants to do this! Also pls do not do if you do not wanna ❤️❤️❤️

[ashmp3]

thanks to miss zaynab i’ve been now compared to 4 VS angels which is of course very flattering but also just tells me i need to learn how to do bouncy blow out asap!!! 🥱

[victorluvsalice]

And Smiler, meanwhile, made a new friend -- Leila Illes! Mostly because a) Smiler is the most charismatic and likable Sim in existence at this point, and makes new friends just by saying "hi" to people, and b) Smiler needed a proper drink of plasma and -- with Victor already tired -- needed to butter someone up to get their fix. XD Fortunately, after a little bit of chatting and doing impressions and exchanging pronouns (Leila is she/her), Leila was happy to extend her wrist, and Smiler got their drink. :) I love it when a plan comes together... They then laid down for a little while to soak up some sun while Alice used the facilities and Victor woke up from his nap -- and then, after a round of Scruberoos to make sure everyone was clean --

PICTURE TIME! Yup, I forgot to buy Alice her own tripod (must remember to do that!), so I plopped one on the beach in a nice scenic location that they could use. :) I forced myself to keep it to just the initial ten pictures that you get from using the tripod this time, and made sure to get a variety of sizes -- a handful of little and medium ones, and a couple of big ones. Unfortunately, most of the screenshot versions ended up with that stupid "bloom" effect over them, so you get probably the most staid poses I had them try out of the bunch. *sigh* Ah well -- they still look like they're having fun, at least!

But we couldn't just stop at tripod pictures, no -- I also needed "dual seflies" for the photo collage behind the bubble blower back home! So once the tripod ten were done, I had each of them whip out their phone to get some shots with the others -- Smiler with Victor, Alice with Smiler, and Victor with Alice. Got some very cute and fun shots -- and of course I had to do Smiler kissing Victor on the cheek. Honeymoon and all! :) Ahh, I do love taking in-game pictures of my trio. It gives me all the good feels. :)

[no1ryomafan]

My beloved bf gifted me mario wonder for my bday and while this isn’t my first mario game bc I had the one on the ds-just sucked at it lol-im having a blast going through it since I always like playing other plaformers then my usual even if I’m always comfy with Mega Man. However, playing this along with other platformers made me realize mega man misses a common aspect in most platformers: collectibles tied to progression/general items to pick up in stages that aren’t upgrades.

Mega Man does have its fair share of items to pick up but almost always it’s a health or power upgrade. The general structure of Mega Man is less of jumping on enemies like others and more so being strong enough you can take down your enemies with your weapons, the usual challenge comes from fighting bosses without their weakness or tight platforming segments. Not to mention, the entire appeal of Mega Man’s structure is you can do bosses in any order, so having stuff like collecting a object for progression just to access the next stage or area would ruin that freedom. (Also in terms of if mega man would collect coins or rings or gems I’m not sure if that would fit either given he’s a robot… What would a robot collect unless it’s like stated it’s apart of his energy source or something? Or maybe screws? Even though that’s the currency in classic for just buying stuff)

This isn’t necessarily a bad thing since it gives mega man it’s own unique appeal and some people may not like other platformers compared to it-even if I say the challenge universally sticks so others are worth checking out, especially when in other games it’s waaaay easier to die despite how brutal mega man is with lives and Insta kill stuff-but it’s something I noticed when playing Mario and other platformers so I’m definitely gonna be rotating this for awhile.

[prokopetz]

I think a lot of folks in indie RPG spaces misunderstand what's going on when people who've only ever played Dungeons & Dragons claim that indie RPGs are categorically "too complicated". Yes, it's sometimes the case that they're making the unjustified assumption that all games are as complicated as Dungeons & Dragons and shying away from the possibility of having to brave a steep learning cure a second time, but that's not the whole picture.

A big part of it is that there's a substantial chunk of the D&D fandom – not a majority by any means, but certainly a very significant minority – who are into D&D because they like its vibes or they enjoy its default setting or whatever, but they have no interest in actually playing the kind of game that D&D is... so they don't.

Oh, they'll show up at your table, and if you're very lucky they might even provide their own character sheet (though whether it adheres to the character creation guidelines is anyone's guess!), but their actual engagement with the process of play consists of dicking around until the GM tells them to roll some dice, then reporting what number they rolled and letting the GM figure out what that means.

Basically, they're putting the GM in the position of acting as their personal assistant, onto whom they can offload any parts of the process of play that they're not interested in – and for some players, that's essentially everything except the physical act of rolling the dice, made possible by the fact most of D&D's mechanics are either GM-facing or amenable to being treated as such.*

Now, let's take this player and present them with a game whose design is informed by a culture of play where mechanics are strongly player facing, often to the extent that the GM doesn't need to familiarise themselves with the players' character sheets and never rolls any dice, and... well, you can see where the wires get crossed, right?

And the worst part is that it's not these players' fault – not really. Heck, it's not even a problem with D&D as a system. The problem is D&D's marketing-decreed position as a universal entry-level game means that neither the text nor the culture of play are ever allowed to admit that it might be a bad fit for any player, so total disengagement from the processes of play has to be framed as a personal preference and not a sign of basic incompatibility between the kind of game a player wants to be playing and the kind of game they're actually playing.

(Of course, from the GM's perspective, having even one player who expects you to do all the work represents a huge increase to the GM's workload, let alone a whole group full of them – but we can't admit that, either, so we're left with a culture of play whose received wisdom holds that it's just normal for GMs to be constantly riding the ragged edge of creative burnout. Fun!)

* Which, to be clear, is not a flaw in itself; a rules-heavy game ideally needs a mechanism for introducing its processes of play gradually.

[mad-hunts]

the relationship that jack had forged with his father was different than the others in ways he couldn't explain. for example, in comparison to matilda whom always seemed to be hyperaware of where her and barton stood, jack felt like he never quite knew where he quote unquote 'was' with his own caretaker — leading to these issues he had with attachment that a therapist long ago once told him were likely due to the fact he grew up in such an unstable environment.

but flying the coop, though it sometimes seemed appealing, was not something jack felt like he could do. because despite everything that barton had put him and their family through, jack felt this strong sense of loyalty to the rest of his siblings as well as to his father. and its not like he had a stable job at the moment; he was trying to secure a spot with a ballet company, after all, which was his true dream. but jack was working part-time as a lifeguard in between all of his classes and ballet related events.

which actually wasn't that bad of a job all things considered. it reminded him at first of how, after julien had died, he'd been afraid of the ocean for several years however. it was like jack's heart was on overdrive even around small bodies of water back then. so developing the strength to overcome this fear was probably the best thing for jack. and considering what had happened to gotham in recent events (with the riddler flooding the city), it made him think about how lucky he was to have done so before that all occurred.

i mean, could you imagine what it would've been like if jack still had thalassophobia with the flood suddenly hitting gotham like it did? lets just say, jack was grateful that jervis filled up some of the silence in the room right after he was burdened with that train of thought. a lopsided smile spread across his lips at jervis's approving comments about colin. jack had actually been keeping the fact he had a boyfriend a secret from his father, for fear that barton would take one look at colin and tell him 'no.'

therefore, it felt good to hear that from someone. the only thing he uttered was a soft 'yeah' in response to that as his eyes darted to jervis's moving hand, ❝ okay. do you like your eggs scrambled, or sunny-side up? and do you want just butter on the bread or is strawberry jam also good with you? ❞ that, as far as he could remember, was the only type they had in the fridge. jack kept his gaze on the cards as jervis spoke now, but let him know he was listening by nodding to what the other was saying.

❝ well, i'd definitely say it's a process. but you know what's funny? i don't know if you believe in any sort of afterlife but... ❞ and that was where barton had cut in, standing at the doorway as if he was waiting to be invited in like a vampire. and trust me when i say the doctor knew that jervis was probably not thrilled to see him. for, not even barton's own son looked to be eager to see him, but maybe that was just because jack knew the two held a general distaste for one another? barton didn't know but he waited in silence in any case for the farceur to leave the room with the medicine he'd given jervis.

he stepped in then only to reveal that, although he wasn't in dire straits anymore, he was still hooked up to an IV on a pole: which was a humble reminder to barton that his degree of brain swelling couldn't go away on its own. though, he wished it could. the expression on his face when jervis spoke to him said all that needed to be said: barton didn't believe for a second that the other meant that. ❝ no, you want to see me burn in hell, don't you? the least you can do is be honest about it. ❞

he stated this in a very 'matter-of-fact' tone, as if the thought of someone hating him that much didn't affect him. an incredulous chuckle left barton's mouth afterward, though, and that wasn't nothing. he slowly but surely used that IV pole as leverage to drag himself over to the cabinet next to jervis's bedside. opening the bottom drawer revealed old clothes of barton's within it, ❝ ravi, the man you met down at the bistro we went to earlier today? he called me, and he immediately asked me if i was in some form of trouble. because ravi told me he had to lie to the cops about us being at the bistro. ❞

barton pulled out a clean shirt to replace his dirty and bloodied one with before turning to face jervis, ❝ and i thought we were in enough trouble already, but marty, the guy i killed was apparently the son of a police captain. meaning those pigs in the GCPD might not actually stop until they find us. so i might need your help with creating a very... elaborate plan to kill him. ❞

Poor Jack's anxiety was written all over his face and body language. Despite his efforts to appear calm and reassuring, Jervis could sense the strain beneath the surface. Though he disliked Barton, he couldn't bring himself to be indifferent. It wasn’t in his nature to ignore someone else's pain, and the last four hours must have been brutal for the Mathis siblings.

A part of Jervis was still ashamed that he had even lost consciousness under the physical and mental strain, sinking into the depths of his mind like something swept away by the Lethe’s currents—except, unlike the myth, Jervis couldn’t forget. His past, fractured as it was, stayed with him. And as much as his memories pained him, Jervis refused to let them go. Forgetting Alice and Sylvie would be like losing them all over again. That was unbearable.

A shiver ran down his spine at the thought, and his hand instinctively reached for the chain beneath his collar, rolling his and Sylvie’s wedding rings like rings on an astrolabe.

He wasn't a fool. Jervis knew this was a difficult situation they had dragged Jack and Matilda into, and he felt sorry for both. But his empathy ran deepest for Jack. He didn’t know the young man well, but there was an unmistakable connection—a shared understanding, almost like neurons firing in unison. What had Sylvie once told him? Something about fungal hyphae—that they could sense their environment, responding to the slightest change. They weren’t like staid, immobile plants, she had said. Hyphae were dynamic, constantly adapting to their surroundings.

Even all these years, Jervis could still hear her voice, vividly recall the way her eyes lit up when she spoke of such things. "They feel their way through the world," she'd explained, with that endearing mixture of fascination and tenderness he had grown to love so well. "They detect ridges and surfaces, change their shape to fit. They know how to survive, how to grow, even in the strangest conditions."

It had stuck with him, the way she saw life in things most people overlooked. Jervis laid there, nodding faintly as Jack's voice washed over him; the parallel trains of thought made him pause. Maybe grief was like that too—constantly adapting, reshaping itself to fit the cracks in your soul.

Jervis’ hand loosened on the chain as he looked over at Jack, the faint clink of the rings barely audible as they slid along the silver links. He nodded slowly, his gaze dropping briefly. "Yeah... She was everything," he said quietly, almost to himself. His voice wavered, caught between the here and now and somewhere else entirely; hoarse but steadying. "Accepted every part of me, even the worst parts." His fingers tightened again, this time more gently, as if grounding himself.

Behind Jack, Sylvie was seated on the floor, legs folded casually beneath her. She tilted her head, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "You always were too hard on yourself," she murmured, her tone light.

Jervis' breath hitched, his eyes briefly closing before refocusing on Jack. "You and Colin—he sounds good for you. Someone who keeps you on your toes, makes life richer." He paused, blinking slowly as though waking from a dream. "That’s… important."

Sylvie stood now, a faint shimmer at the edge of his vision, her fingers brushing lightly against his arm as she passed. "I’m still here, you know." Her voice was soft, steady. "You called me."

Jervis swallowed hard, his hand instinctively reaching for the space where her touch lingered before dropping back to his side on the mattress. "Breakfast for dinner sounds good," he said, almost absently, a quiet smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I think… I’d like that."

His eyes flicked once more to where Sylvie had been; gone without a trace, but the weight of her presence still lingered like a hint of smoke drifting in the breeze.

"You know…" Jervis started again, the words coming slowly as he glanced back at Jack while he began sifting through the tarot cards. "It's strange. Sometimes you think you’re done… that you’ve made your peace, and then the grief sneaks back up on you. Makes you feel like you’re right back where you started... it's almost enough to drive anyone mad... but it's a process, right?"

The moment shattered with a soft clearing of a throat from the doorway. Jervis tensed, every muscle recoiling. He didn’t need to look up to know who it was. Oh, bloody hell… this bloke, again?

It took everything in him not to snap at Barton to piss off. Irritation surged through his chest, white-hot, but exhaustion won out. He almost couldn’t bring himself to react, in all honesty, the weariness in his bones outweighing the anger... You’re like a damn cockroach… he thought, half-bitter, half-bemused. Terribly rude of you to interrupt.

"Hey, citrouille," Barton said casually to Jack. "Mind stepping out for a minute? I need to talk to Jervis."

Jack hesitated, glancing between his father and Jervis, but eventually rose. Barton patted him on the shoulder, tone light, as if unaware—or possibly indifferent—to the tension in the air.

As Jack left, Barton held up his phone, waving it in front of Jervis. "I just got an interesting phone call I thought you might want to hear about."

Jervis exhaled, met Barton’s gaze. It took every ounce of flagging willpower not to tell him exactly where he could stick his ‘interesting’ call. Sylvie’s presence slipped further from his mind, swallowed by the suffocating weight of Barton’s intrusion.

He forced a tired smile, his voice flat. "Glad to see you back on your feet," he finally muttered. "At least one of us is standing upright."