#if this does well i might make more

[0kamikamisama]

She tried 😔

[keferon]

“Mistakes on mistakes until” ch 69 spoilers below!

Ahahahahahahah here I go again

Mistakes on mistakes until until I can draw Jazz with my eyes closed

I woke up, checked my phone, woke up for real and decided that whatever plans I had for this day yeah no they can wait a little bit kfkgnfk

Also. Consider listening this while reading. Or don't who am I to tell you what to do~

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

hope you feel better soon!

I am riddled with ailments, but I stay silly!

[lazylittledragon]

isn't it weird how if you get up at 7 or 8, do your work all day, then have free time and go to bed at 11 that's absolutely fine

but if i said i get up at 10, do fun stuff in the morning then work in the evening and go to bed late, i could be called lazy, nevermind that i'm getting just as much or MORE work done as i would in a traditional work day

[sysig]

Blind side (Patreon)

[izzystizzys]

“ - but have you ever considered, I don’t know, not sucking all the time? Just a thought.”

It takes the combined grips of Nuisance and Hound to keep the wriggling, snarling body beneath Fox from throwing him off its back. With three years’ practice of having to fix his own rickety desk chair over and over again, the movement merely ruffles the proverbial fringe on his helmet.

“And I don’t mean that as an insult, necessarily. Well, I do a little bit. But also I have some amount of empathy for the no doubt immense amounts of trauma that had to go into the creation of something so dysfunctional as you, on a very personal level, so have you considered going to the root of that in a way that’s like… useful? Instead of wasting it all on kriffing Kenobi, I mean. Look at the guy. All he does all day is drink tea and commit warcrimes. I bet he knits for fun. Bit of an embarrassing nemesis, don’t you think?”

“I”, says Kenobi, then pauses. The space between his eyebrows is creased with uncertainty, and he looks deeply torn between continuing rocking the shaking Duchess of Mandalore against his chest from his corner of the throne room and re-activating his lightsaber to continue losing his fight against the Darksider Fox is currently sitting on. “I feel like I should object to some part of that, but I’m not entirely clear on what. Or how this happened, again. Isn’t Mandalore a few star systems from your purview, Commander?”

“Probably the warcrimes”, mutters Nuisance underneath his strained breath.

“About as far from my supposed assignment as yours, General”, says Fox a little louder.

Kenobi twitches. Fox cannot claim to know which of them does it. Both, maybe. Probably.

“I will - taste - your - flesh!”, heaves out Darth Maul, snarling and hissing.

“Oooh, kinky!”, calls Grids, from the corner where she’s got her stun-setting aimed at the other Zabrak, currently passed out cold. Fox sighs deeply. He knew he shouldn’t have taken those three - any combination of Grids, Hound and Nuisance in a room together usually spelled chaos.

Unfortunately, it also spelled competence. The Basic alphabet can be funny that way.

The point being: as of some months into the war, one of Fox’s assigned tasks is the surveillance of all GAR-wide communication. All command-class staff theoretically got that memo, but no one seems to have read the fine print where that includes both professional and personal communication, as well as any and all comm devices registered or suspected to be registered to that person. Especially not one Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Amidala.

The point further being, if that sounds both immensely impractical and sort of terrifying in a democratic supposedly non-surveillance state, you’d be bang on the credits, and to Fox’ eternal chagrin the singular person in this whole useless army who’s spent the second of thinking necessary for that conclusion.

The final point being, when one frantic General’s mad dash across the Galaxy to rescue his teenage sweetheart from the spectre of his supposedly dead nemesis crosses his desk on its way to the Chancellor’s inbox, it doesn’t take much time for him to block any and all trace of it across the digital space of the GAR commboard and take matters into his own hands.

“ - which is why I told Thorn to suck it up and be in charge for a few days, and also why you’re still alive, your Highness, very welcome, was no trouble at all”, he concludes, drily. The Duchess stares the wide-eyed look of someone attempting to reconcile clones with ‘sentience’ or perhaps ‘personality’ in her head, but won’t say it outright.

Or the look of someone who’s just been violently overthrown and nearly murdered, perhaps, Fox allows.

“Um -“, Kenobi hedges, blinking rapidly.

“And the reason you’re still alive, probably. You’re welcome for that too, by the way”, Grids calls from the back of the throne room, cheekily.

“Alright”, says Kenobi, loudly. There’s color back in his deathly-pale cheeks, Fox notes, even if that color is a lot of red. It doesn’t fade very gracefully into his beard. “Opinions on whether or not I had everything under control notwithstanding -“

“You really didn’t”, Hound supplies helpfully.

“ - opinions notwithstanding, I am admittedly still lost on why you’re now sitting on Darth Maul and attempting to, to - jeer at him, Marshall Commander!”

“We’re not jeering, we’re trying to create a safe space and lay the groundwork for more open communication”, Fox says, primly.

Maul screams into the ground, attempting for the umpteenth time to rear up and visit great violence upon Fox, which admittedly has him rattling in his crosslegged seat atop his back.

Kenobi raises a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “Safe space?”

“He’s restrained and not stabbing anyone, I personally feel much safer than before”, Grids muses. “Watch the teeth though, Hound. Little biter.”

Indeed. Fox’s right greave will have to be replaced posthaste.

“And anyways, the point isn’t to jeer at him, it’s to make clear that he’s focusing his energy in the wrong places and could be doing much better things with his admittedly not-great life”, Fox adds, shifting to cast a pointed look down at Maul. The Sith is panting open-mouthed into the durasteel floor, sharp teeth gnashing wildly as his piercing yellow eyes shine with barely restrained rage. “I’m just saying - aim higher. You aren’t seeing the forest for the Kenobis, Maul. Can I call you Maul?”

“I will feed you your own entrails”, yowls Maul.

“See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. Right now, I’m an easy target to focus all that built-up rage on, but is killing me really going to help you achieve any of your goals? No! Think about it - when it all comes down to it, who sent you on that mission to Naboo in the first place? Who made sure the Jedi and, by extension, Kenobi would be there to kill you? Who used you as a dejarik piece and then cast you aside the second you outlived your usefulness?”

Beneath him, Maul slowly stills in his struggle, still panting heavily. Hound and Nuisance don’t let it deter them in their vigilance, because they’re damn good vod’e and possess an ounce of common sense.

“And, look, I get it. I could spend the rest of my life punching every civilian who spits on me in the streets and it would even be satisfying. I could hit back the Senators who think of clones as easy targets. Or - I can aim my sights at who’s on top. And I think you know who I mean, because you know as well as I do the same damn man has ruined both our lives.”

Kenobi makes an alarmed noise, and Maul an interested one - not that Fox is going to let him walk out of this place awake. Still, he tilts his head in a way he hopes conveys his helmeted grin successfully to non-vod, as well as the bloodlust behind it. “You’re also welcome for the fact that the Chancellor won’t have heard of your spontaneous resurrection yet, by the way. You’ll retain your element of surprise instead of gambling it away on petty revenge on Kenobi.”

“He cut me in half!”

“He killed my master!”

Fox waves their protests away.

“Also, that’s treason!”, Kenobi adds, sputtering. Fox grins. Kenobi purses his lips, and continues. petulantly, “…do you have any proof?”

“So. Much. Proof”, says Nuisance, dreamily. “Like, do you want it alphabetically or by date?”

Which is when the Duchess, of all people, bursts out into barking, crazed laughter.

“You - you’ve certainly given yourself an edge in that fight, Marshall Commander”, she wheezes, brushing tears from her eyes. Fox raises his eyebrows at her, which she somehow seems to be able to tell, because she gestures at the clunky handle dangling from his belt.

“What, this old thing?” He unclasps the black rectangle from its hook, holding it up in the air. Maul stills strangely beneath him, and Kenobi goes ghostly pale again. Fox is starting to get a bad feeling.

“I took it off Viszla and beat him over the head with it. I figured he’d taken it off a Jedi cadet or something. What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

[mattodore]

birthday boy 🎂

[yuwuta]

gojo would kill your work husband. but if he were the work husband, that's a different story

REAL!! he’s such a hypocrite because if someone mentioned you had a work husband, his entire world would stop and he wold devise the absolute worst plans to make sure that your co-worker, everyone at your job, and everyone in the next building over knew that he was happily committed to you 

but if he is the work husband, he’s very........ dutiful in his role. there’s a loose office/lawyer au in my head where satoru is your secretary, and for all intents and purposes, your personal assistant, and he’s good at his job, but mostly because he considers his job to be pleasing you. he has coffee for you when you arrive, he moves your schedule around without you asking, he has answers to questions before you can even ask them, he has fresh flowers on your desk weekly, pokes into your meetings to pretend to hand you a file that’s really just maybe a single document in a manilla folder with candy on top of it—he’s made himself your business, your partner; he’s made himself irreplaceable, and he loves to remind everybody of that fact. 

he’s also extremely loyal. sure, he could day a week’s worth of work done in about a day, but that doesn’t mean he’ll just use his talents for anybody. he’s your secretary, so he’s at your beck and call, and everyone knows it. they know he’s the best, but also that he’s off limits—not because you won’t share him, but because satoru won’t let himself be shared. 

he also extends his duties beyond work, of course. when he hands you a print out of your schedule for the day and you’re confused by the three-hour block of time you have in the middle of the day, satoru just helps you shrug your coat of your shoulders and smiles, “that’s for the lunch date you have with me, of course!” hanging up your coat in your closet for you, “i’m paying, see you soon, sweets.” and because you’re great at your job, and satoru helps you be great, nobody really questions when the two of you have time for a 13-course tasting menu at 1pm on a tuesday afternoon. and if they did, all satoru would say that you two had a lovely date 

[poscariastri]

my dumbass could NOT be a sports interviewer

[annie-of-the-arts]

[begin id: A drawing reference/fullbody of Doctor Rat, specifically the character (?) he plays in Content SMP. Next to him are design notes, and a color palette of his colors. The design notes read: "-dress looks to be made of low quality, party city material. but, it's actually well taken care of, and clearly has been stiched over several times. -tons of pockets. tons. -oh defintely changes his heels up every now and then. i think he could gouge a man's eyes out with stilhettos. -ngl i think he looks like geronimo stilton." As for the design itself, he is a tall half-rat man with a pink rat tail, and grey fur that covers where regular human body hair would go. He has curly purple hair, about shoulder length, and a grey mask with a blotch of lighter grey near the eyes. He's wearing a maid dress; consisting of a black dress with poofy sleeves, an apron, gloves, and wedged ankle mary janes. The apron and gloves are covered in dark but faded stains, and his dress is covered in scratch marks to indicate consistent and constant repair of it. As for the pose, he's standing straight, feet together. His left hand on his hip, the right standing idly by in a calmed fist. He's smirking. End id]

to people who loved my silly rat sketches. thank you very much. im reminding you all yet again that im a big nerd for character design forever and ever. thank you very much

[reblogs >>> likes | don't like without reblogging!! if you like and don't reblog i will curse your bloodline.]

[dukeofthomas]

Do you see my vision

[nerdy-hyperfixations]

I just want to remind everyone that Wallace is canonically the worse one to sleep in the same bed with.

Scott can be a bad roommate in every other aspect but GUYS Wallace is the one that canonically snores and kicks in his sleep.

Scott sleeps like a princess with his back against the sheet lying perfectly straight (and also taking all the covers) and Wallace sleeps semi-on-his-side and apparently just fucking punting Scott in the leg every so often (not to mention he talked in his sleep too) and I don’t know why this is important to me but it is.

Because when people draw them cuddling in their sleep it’s always Wallace being normal and Scott turning and snoring and shit but you’re missing out on sleepy-cuddly Wallace turning and snoring on Scott. Let that cringe-fail 25 year old be annoying. Istg.

I’m talking to the Mobillace people too btw. Not that I’ve seen anyone draw them cuddling in bed (which is a CRIME btw. Draw that. For me.) but like imagine how funny it would be: Mobile stays the night for the first time and the hot-weirdo is a bed-menace, snoring and kicking and tossing and turning and suction cupping for warmth and Mobile is like “I want him to be my boyfriend” THATS FUNNY! LIKE-

[pines4thetwin]

As promised, here's that fusion post for the three people that asked for it (drops it and runs).

Ford thinks of himself and Stan as one, an extension of each other, and lowkey hates that its not true nor possible.

And Mabel really shouldn't have shown him Steven Universe because now he's obsessing over the concept of fusions and his desire to be one with stan.

Now lets say this is Pre-Weird and everything is still tense between them and they aren't exactly talking but despite that ford still wants to be close and he knows stan does too.

He can see it in the broken resigned looks Stan keeps throwing his way. And listen, Ford isn't the best at communication but he can fix this. He may still be angry and self righteous and an asshole but he can fix them.

So now he spends an even more absurd amount of time in the lab trying to making it his reality and entirely disregards his base needs to the point even dipper is concerned.

He has a journal dedicated to this idea where he keeps all his notes and theories on how to make it possible. Would he have to alter their DNA for it to work or could it be possible for them as they are?

While doing the tests and research for his fixation he remembers a dimension he briefly travelled to back when he was younger and fresh through the portal. One where this concept, his desire, his fantasy, his wish was real. A dimension where it was was their culture, their way of life. And while he did think it was interesting then, he was young and angry and raw with unrestrained hurt. Too emotional to stop and study the practice the way he should have.

He beats himself up over it now. If only he had been thinking more logically him and stan could be one already. They wouldn't have to be so... apart.

He doesn't have time to dwell on his shortcomings though. He has to figure this out. He doesn't know exactly why but he feels like he's running out of time. Like he has to do this now or he'll never have the chance again.

Eventually he has his prototype and it functions well... enough. He just has one more trial to run. Except Stan comes down to check on him. 'Worried ford isn't taking care of himself properly.' or something like that.

And honestly, Stan in his space is the last thing he expects because they have an unspoken agreement. Stan roams above and Ford stays down here. And when they cross paths they both look the other way.

But stan is here and yes Ford is annoyed at first but this also means he doesn't have to go seek stan out.

"I told you to stay- wait actually this is perfect. We'll do it now," Ford fiddles with his device, turning it on and he really isn't thinking right anymore. He know the device works and that's all that matters.

"Do what now? Stanford, what is that," And Stan is kinda terrified because Ford looks... well he looks kinda like how he did decades ago when he had sent that postcard and Stan had come running because well, its Ford.

Ford looks insane, primal and unhinged, like he hasn't seen the light of day in weeks. And Dipper had told Stan, had been worried but Stan brushed it off because Ford locking himself in the lab and avoiding everybody, avoiding him wasn't a new development.

But now Stan’s worried because that wild-eyed look is directed at him again and the cowardly little animal in him is screaming at him to run.

It’s like Ford knows what he's thinking because before Stan has a chance to decide if he's going to shut down or entertain that scared little animal, Ford is grasping at him and pulling him deeper into the dingy little basement.

Stan trips and he fully expects his back to hit the floor but fords got and arm wrapped low on his back that keeps him from falling fully. And stan's hand is also tangled in fords sweater so even if Ford had let him fall, well they would have gone down together.

But then he catches sight of that thing again and it looks vaguely like a gun and why did he have to get saddled with the insane twin? He doesn't even have time to flinch because a bright light floods his vision and he blanks.

For a second, Stan's mind goes black and there's a strange humming in his ears. But then he hears a laugh he hasn't heard in forever. Soft and joyous and for a moment stan smiles. It's Ford's laugh.

Because he and Stan become one. And everything is warm and bright and as it should be. For a moment everything is right. It feels like coming home.

His-Their eyes open and Ford's confused? No, Stans confused.

"Sixer? Lee?" Their voice says, soft and bewildered. They look around, searching for each other. Stan? Ford? Where did they go? They look down and their vision swims. Four hands, five fingers? Six? It all blurs together.

Is this me, they think as one. Finally as one. Four hands run up the sides of their one body then stretch out for their wide eyes to view. Ford can feel his giddiness rising unbidden. And a whisper from Stan, rising to meet Ford. Uncertain but matching nonetheless.

Finally

Finally together... Finally fixed... Finally right.

They spin slowly, as if that will give them a better view of what they are now, and they catch their reflection in some dim glass. Ford wants to smile but their face drops, eyes horrified.

"What did you do," Stan says, voice a cutting accusation. Nausea erupts in their stomach. And that isn't right. Why isn't it right?

Something is wrong. Everything is so very wrong. Ford's head hurts. Or is it Stans. He doesn't know. They can't tell.

"I fixed it. I fixed us," Ford says and it isn't right either. Why is it still so wrong? Stan is angry. But why is he angry? Why aren't they happy? They're together. After all this time they're finally together again.

Ford can feel Stan pulling away. It's like their mind is splitting in two. Hot searing pain shoots through their head, four eyes closing when the world starts to spin.

Ford grasps ahold of stan and refuses to let go. He can't let Stan ruin this, ruin them. He will not let Stan destroy everything he's worked towards again. They've been apart for so long- too long but not anymore. Besides, this is for them. Stan will just have to understand. They are one now. Broken and wrong but one nonetheless.

"Let me go," They yell, tugging apart furiously. Their shape shifts and distorts but doesn't split. Ford won't let them. They snap back together painfully, stumbling on two bulky legs, one that branches into two feet. Wrong.

"No! This is what we wanted right," their voice bellows, loud and angry and wrong. So very wrong. "For us to be together. Always together."

They grip at their hair as if trying to pull themselves back apart. Stan.

"Not like this. I never asked for this." they shout back, voice sharp and hurt and why aren't they happy now. They should be happy. This is right. This is how they are meant to be.

Even as the anger and hurt courses through their entire being, Ford knows he wouldn't want to be any other way. Stan's angry and scared but at least they're one. They're shattered and hurting but even then some small part burns in them, it's a tiny little ember but it's both of them and it says yes.

Another set of hands reach for the ones in their hair, pulling them out and restraining them. Betrayal spikes, scorching and increasing rapidly even after years of dormancy. Ford.

"Stop being so ungrateful! You're always so-." angry tears spill from their eyes. Decades of hurt and anger and resentment spill forth to mix into a sense numbing cocktail but most of all they feel alone. So very alone. Them.

They grapple and struggle and Ford's device glints from the corner of their eyes. Ford can feel Stan's intent before their body even moves. Being one now, it's like their minds have melded which means Stan knows the device's purpose. And he intends to separate them.

"NO!" Ford bellows, voice priggish and angry, hurt tinting the singular word so strongly that their body stalls. Why would stan- Why doesn't he want them to be together?

"Grunkle Stan?" Their head whips to the left, eyes locking with a confused and tired Mabel’s. Their focus splits, body jerking in an awkward aborted movement as Stan tries to move forward and Ford holds him back.

“Pumpkin grab that- Mabel don't-” And why can they never agree on anything. When did everything go so wrong? 

Flashes of being in this very lab, so long ago- but no, it was before that even.

Mabel stares at them, scared and confused and stan has never wanted her to look at him like that ever. But Ford doesn't register it because for a moment, one split second, Stan stops fighting him. 

They don't hesitate to rush forward, very much intent on destroying their creation before it has a chance to be used against them. To hurt them.

Two small hands wrap around it before they can get ahold of it. Mabel clutches it to her chest, watching them with something too close to fear. They freeze in place, hands raising in surrender.

"Sweetie," Falls from their lips, pleading. For what though, they aren't quite sure. Because their mind, it should be one yet it isn't. It's at odds, fragmented by a fear and necessity that clash so strongly it could tear universes apart.

“Press the green- Don't you dare-” They speak at once, words and thoughts overlapping. Large hands cover their mouth, two others gripping uselessly at wrist that refuse to budge, because regardless of whatever insanity that has plagued Fords mind to make them act this way, Stan will not let their voice- their words even hint at a threat towards Mabel.

Mabel's head bobs, looking from them down to the thing in her hands, unsure of what to do. Stan nods, eyes pleading.

Ford lashes out, angry and hurt and thrashing like a wild dog. 'Stanley please no. Why don't you want us to be-' Stan is retreating, silent and distant. 'Lee. LEE!'

Everything goes dark.

Ford rises slowly, head spinning and ears ringing. He has the worst headache he has ever experienced. He stares at his hands, splayed on the floor. Two hands, six fingers. Wrong.

His head whips up and his gaze finds Stan's crumpled form across from him on the floor. Stan's glaring at him, thick angry tears spilling down red cheeks.

No. No!

His head turns slowly and his eyes fall on Mabel. Mabel who is standing with his prototype in shaky hands looking between a separated Ford and Stan. He... failed. And now they're...

Apart.

Broken.

Wrong.

[thesecondplace]

the new time quangle got me thinking so here's Every Emily Axford d20 character ranked by how I think they'd react to Sexy Rat

Fig Faeth: she birthed that thing. it's literally her baby she is 100% sexy rats biggest defender

Sofia Lee: pre TUC Sofie might be a bit grossed out by it but as soon as she meets Kug that'd stop being the case she would absolutely fw a sexy rat

Ylfa Snorgellson: I think Ylfa would relate to Sexy Rat a lot actually, truly a symbol of unconventional beauty for her to idealise

Sundry Sidney: I feel like Sid would like the sexy rat, but she would definitely kill it with fire if asked to

Jet Rocks: Jet's nepo baby self would not be able to appreciate the beauty of sexy rat. At most her and Ruby find it amusing/funny

Sacchirina Frowstwhip: Saccharina does not have the time or the energy to deal with a strangely sexy rat she would dispose of that thing on sight

BONUS

7. Lady Chirp Featherfowl: Not only would she dispose of sexy rat on sight she would have to have a very dramatic show of the trauma from the encounter involving a feinting couch

[cutekittenlady]

I'd just like to add on to my previous post about Earthspark Twitch and Megatron going to Cybertron and meeting Hot Rod that bang up alongside that I'd love it if Hot Rod also develops and unexcpected friendship with Soundwave like he did in Cyberverse.

Like maybe they'd been fighting on Cybertron the whole time but at the Climax the Quintessons or Unicron or whoever is descending on Cybertron and maybe they got away from an initial assault with Hot Rod having saved Soundwave or something. They come to a mutual agreement to temporarily team up to help liberate their home world (again just like in cyberverse) and it turns out they work great together.

No idea how that'd end but I just think it'd be cool.

Plus the soundrod fans would love it.

[sysig]

“It could be that the loss of her children drove the Queen deeper into her darker desires...but, I don’t believe she was fighting against them that hard before that particular tragedy. No monster does.” (Patreon)

Bonus:

Hmm, wonder what he could cover those holes with :3c