#it really is a 50/50 thing
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inkz123 · 7 months ago
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Man finishing school term and wanna rest, draw and work on comms more, but then like 2ish weeks later, boom, gotta fix stuff to start the new school term again
Mannn i just wanna do nothing but draw blorbos and backed up ideas and all the sketch wips i havent even finished ; ;
Idk school for me just throws off the vibes fr fr
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goryhorroor · 4 months ago
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“1950s horror movies contrast radically with their 1940s predecessors. understandably – they were reflecting a whole new world. audiences wanted stories that connected directly to their lives, to the ever-expanding technology in their homes and workplaces. they also wanted horror movies that played to their fears – stoked by politicians – of the shadows that lay beyond their immediate, personal experience of the shiny american dream (applies to some of these movies).”
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paiigemahoney · 2 months ago
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9-1-1 | Bobby & Athena ↳ Bobby keeping his arm around Athena
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autism-swagger · 4 months ago
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Grace Chasity character of all time. She's a religious zealot for both God and what is essentially the Devil. She steals a gun off of a cop and then makes her getaway on her pink bicycle (with a basket!). She brought supplies to hide a body to a simple prank. She commits quite possibly the worst Freudian slips of all time. She drinks hot water. She equates someone carrying her books for her to premarital sex. Someone dies in a freak accident and her immediate course of action is to hack up the body and bury it under the floorboards. She's canonically homophobic.
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0vergrowngraveyard · 9 months ago
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"tails" takes an L
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detectiveneve · 19 days ago
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sorry but again. what is this. why is this a dialogue. dalish elves are not trusted nor wanted in human society. they are actively hunted and oppressed and enslaved specifically in tevinter. elves are treated horribly. how in the world did this become elves worrying if other people like them or not.
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elderwisp · 7 months ago
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𝔩'𝔞𝔪𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔢𝔱 𝔩𝔞 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔱
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redladydeath · 8 months ago
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You know that theory where Niffty is a former overlord who Alastor chose to brainfuck instead of killing for whatever reason?
Someone make an AU/fic where he does that to Vox
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mintjeru · 1 year ago
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there is no better advertisement than one of your favorite artists drawing art for a fandom you're not a part of. and by that i mean i finally caved and started reading the orv webtoon
open for better quality | no reposts
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lgbtlunaverse · 9 months ago
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One underdiscussed aspect of the bone-deep lack of mutual understanding during the nieyao stairs scene is that Nie Mingjue doesn't know - and can't know - what he's actually asking of Jin Guangyao. Not because he doesn't understand how his father treats him, or how tenuous his position is. But because he has no clue Xue Yang is a demonic cultivator.
Remember: Nie Mingjue is still alive, which means the position of chief cultivator doesn't exist yet and Jin Guangshan is facing heavy pushback for suggesting it. Most of that is coming from a fear that the Jin will try to become the next Wen. So having an outer disciple murder an entire clan and then not even punish him properly? This is a collosally bad move politically! You might as well be waving a red flag around yelling "I want to kill other sects with impunity!" There's a reason that years in the future, the moment Jin Guangyao becomes acting sect leader, he will immediately order Xue Yang's death (He doesn't actually die, either by accident or on purpose on jgy's part. But the point is that as far as the public is concerned he had Xue Yang executed.)
From Nie Mingjue's perspective, Jin Guangshan just shot himself in the foot politically for some random outer disciple. It's morally wrong, but it's also incredibly fucking stupid. In his eyes, he is asking Jin Guangyao to do the glaringly obvious right thing, even when exclusively looking at the Jins' self-interest. The thing that surely everyone else in the Jin also wants Jin Guangshan to do! Jin Guangyao can say that he has no influence on his father all he wants, but it is obvious how much work he does and so, as much as his father may not respect him, he clearly at least trusts Jin Guangyao's competence. Nie Mingjue has already tried shouting directly at Jin Guangshan during the trial and it seemed to work, but then Jin Guangshan went back on his decision like a complete idiot. So now Nie Mingjue is asking the guy who is famous for being good at rhetoric and convincing people to convince his donkey of a father to do the obviously correct thing with minimal downsides because again, to Nie Mingjue, this is all about some random outer disciple. It makes sense to ask this! It's a pretty reasonable request! Jin Guangshan can't possibly care that much.
Except of course he does. Because Xue Yang isn't some random outer disciple. He's the only good shot Jin Guangshan has at recreating the yin tiger tally. And Jin Guangshan reaaaaaally wants the yin tiger tally. So bad that he is fully willing to tank an ungodly amount of political goodwill to get it. Jin Guangyao is fully aware that not only will Jin Guangshan never kill Xue Yang, he isn't planning on keeping him locked up either. In fact, after Nie Mingjue is dead, he'll free Xue Yang and strongarm Chang Ping into denying the guilt of his family's murderer. Jin Guangshan cares a lot about keeping Xue Yang in his employ.
And Jin Guangyao knows this. But he can't tell Nie Mingjue that! Because then he'd have to admit they've been doing demonic cultivation. That the fucking ghost geneal is in their basement. That, oopsie, they actually also killed a whole other entire clan just a while ago after framing their sect leader for an assasination attempt and then used their bodies as fodder to make more fierce corpses. You know, in case one mass murder wasn't enough!
So obviously he's not gonna say that. Which means Nie Mingjue has no idea what he's demanding from Jin Guangyao, and therefore no idea why he absolutely can't fullfill that request.
I get why it's not mentioned very often because there are a lot of other problems which are both more obvious and more fun to talk about. (Who doesn't love a little overcomplicated trolley problem?) But I think it adds just another layer to the chasm between them in this scene. They're not just disagreeing, they're having completely different conversations.
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flambo19 · 10 months ago
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The Stellaron Hunters
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royalarchivist · 9 months ago
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Mike: Oh, why is Richas- why everyone is pink?! Is it because of the Valentine's Day?
Mine: It's because of the Goddess!
Fit: Oh yeah, 'cuz of Valentine's Day.
Mike: Hi Ramon! [Gives Ramon a hug]
Fit: [Gasps] OHHH- he's got the pink mustache!
Mine: Everyone's possessed by the Goddess today.
Mike: Yeah!!! Yeah!
Mine: [Laughs] Hi Ramon! Hi baby!
Mike: It looks very stylish though!
Fit: Yeah
Mine: Hi Pepito!
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septimusmoonlight · 2 months ago
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You doing ok?
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hi
#i'm alive. simply being chewed upon by multiple things#work is more stressful than i'd like it to be. for instance i'm hoping that i submitted my time off notification for tomorrow correctly#because otherwise it might read as a no call no show and i would . like to continue having a job#now to be fair. i do have it on the system that i requested it at the beginning of the month and i emailed my supervisor about it last week#so even if i didn't submit it correctly i'm likely in the clear#but nonetheless. i also got a firm talking-to the other day and now i am on ✨thin ice✨ for dicking around too much#because they track ur idle time at my work (computer) and mine was Quite High so my supervisor was like man what the hell is this#but even though she was kind of baffled at me spending so much time dicking around#she couldn't even really be all that mad in the end because i'm still doing good numbers and have made no (zero) mistakes#so she was just like. it's kind of impressive that your numbers look this good when you literally have 50% idle time#so she goes imagine what you could do if you weren't wasting so much time#and yeah i can whip out some Really Good Numbrers when i put the effort in.#so the problem is not my numbers it's just that i'm not spending long enough doing my tasks for the day#but i don't want to drag out those tasks intentionally so i've just been upping my own standards/goals#as much as i hate giving any more of my brain power than is necessary to giant corporations#it's still easy to feel smug after you get Talked To and then immediately turn around and show off#like yeah i coulda been doing this good the whole time. literally pulling up by 20 points. i just didn't want to.#trying to keep everyone's expectations low but accidentally toed the line of um. not working enough to keep my job#...anyway. EAS national weather system issued a . hi#i haven't forgotten about all of you i'm just having trouble tracking all my shit that i got going on ✨ yaaaaaaay#im gonna post things on AO3 soon. i promise. my weakness is that i get sidetracked trying to unwind from work#...i know i said 'soon' last time. but this time for real#asks#not sexy#anonymous
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anonymous-tals · 1 year ago
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So, you know, back in the 80s, George Sr. would get Gob and Michael to fight each other and record it, plus a Baby Buster short, to get in on the home video market.
Which made me think: if the timeline was shifted and the Bluth siblings were born in the 2000s, George Sr. would’ve run a particularly problematic family Youtube channel.
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sheepgirlmaidtummy · 8 months ago
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for an extremely long time i couldn't get into fantasy as a genre because its so very racist and i wish i could say that its different now but. if anything its just easier to see than before
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shady-tavern · 2 years ago
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A Hero’s Return
Continuation of this little short story. No particular warnings, but let me know if I should tag something.
***
'Ready when you are.'
It felt as though the message was burning a hole into your pocket as you stared at your hero costume. Freshly laundered, repaired perfectly after your fight with that telekinetic villain and just as practical and flashy as before. It shouldn’t be scary.
Your hands weren’t trembling when you put it on, but it was a near thing. It helped to know that Silver was waiting on the other side, not a floating terror ready and willing to kill. If you failed, no civilians would get hurt or killed. You would not die knowing you had been utterly useless, or wake up miraculously to find hundreds of people dead because you hadn’t been strong enough.
You had grown stronger, you knew you had. Enough so, in fact, that the hero association had recently bumped you up to Class B. Which was a little frightening, you had never played in the upper leagues before and while you knew you were part of the bottom crowd of Class B, it was still very different to your comfortable, quiet little Class C.
You took a few deep breaths after buckling the last of your gear in place and you stared at the mirror, realizing that the costume didn’t fit like it used to. You had gained muscle and a bit of weight and…it didn’t look right anymore. The colors seemed too bright, the little fluttery accents you had once added to the design on a whim too useless.
You took another deep breath and turned away from the mirror. Now was not the time to get into an existential crisis over your costume. You could always order a new one from the association later. You grabbed your phone, staring at the most recent message for a long moment, your heart pounding nervously.
'Ready when you are.'
You could hear Silver’s voice in your mind as you read those words, could see his reassuring smile, the kindness in his mercury eyes that didn’t quite manage to hide patient anticipation. He was looking forward to this, you knew. He had been there every step of the way, as you had dragged yourself out of the hole your failure and terror had shoved you into.
You didn’t feel ready to be a hero again, but you had decided that it didn’t matter. You would never feel ready. You could run those obstacle courses and simulations Silver built a hundred thousand times and not feel ready.
'Ready' you typed back and hit send before you could stop yourself. 
The hero association already knew you would return to active duty today. The substitute hero had left the city last night, looking relieved. His stay here had been exceptionally boring, since Silver had refused to challenge him in any way. Aside from bugging him a bit for fun, but his pranks were always harmless.
You flexed your hands and for a moment you felt all the scar tissue pull tight, stitched up wounds and surgery scars and broken bones that had taken months to heal. You weren’t ready, but you were sick and tired of sitting around at home.
You were sick and tired of being scared, of worrying. Of thinking about the next Class A villain that could show up with murder on their mind. You wanted to be a hero, still, even now. You wanted to protect people and help them where you could. You straightened your shoulders and walked forward, projecting a confidence you did not feel.
It was showtime.
*.*.*.*
You watched civilians cackle in delight as they were pelted with marshmallow butts the size of half your palm. Silver was bouncing a bit on his toes at your side, grinning so wide it must’ve hurt his cheeks.
"Well?" he said with a grin. "Aren’t you going to try and stop me? Oh no, darling, dashing hero!" He pretended to fall into a faint, hand theatrically pressed against his forehead. 
He tipped over with thoughtless trust, knowing you’d be there to catch him. And you did, hands pressed against his signature leather jacket as he draped himself over your arms with exaggerated drama. He continued, "Whatever shall I do, my evil soul quivers!"
You couldn’t help but laugh, tension you hadn’t been aware of sliding off your shoulders like water off a duck’s back. When you caught your breath again, looking down, Silver had the softest smile on his face, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He looked far too sweet for someone proclaiming he had an evil soul.
He straightened from his pretend fainting after a moment and tugged his jacket properly back into place.
"Good first day back?" he asked quietly, barely audible over the huffing and puffing noise of his Ass Kicker 50, it’s wheel of used but thoroughly cleaned and disinfected boots merrily pelting butts into the growing crowd.
"Yeah," you answered just as quietly. "Glad to see me again?"
"Of course, darling." His soft smile got a mischievous edge as it grew into a smirk. "But you must be losing your edge, you haven’t even disabled my baby yet."
You couldn’t help but smirk back, tapping a piece of plating. "Dead switch is beneath this thing, isn’t it?"
He looked startled, then cursed and grumbled, actually looking like he had no idea if he was frustrated or delighted and instead settled on a weird mix of both. "I was hiding it so well! How the fuck did you know?"
You gave him a small shrug. "It’s the only place that works and from the way the thing’s set up and built, it had to be in this area to avoid messing with the machinery. And it’s the only plating that’s not bolted down. Pressure opens it, right?"
You pressed down experimentally on one side and the plate popped open easily enough, swinging aside to reveal the big red button. Because of course it was a big red button. That was so very Silver.
When you looked up, his mercury eyes were bright and intense and that elated-frustrated look was still on his face. "And you once asked me why I fight you," he said, his quiet voice carrying a particular tone that you couldn’t quite place. It made you feel faintly flustered, though.
You fiddled with the plate for a moment, before closing it again. "Yeah, well, I’m just glad I’m not boring."
Silver drew up to his full height, actually looking affronted. "Boring? How dare you?"
The smile tugging at your face felt far too earnest and touched by half, but it seemed to soothe his insulted affront.
"I’ll have a conversation with whoever put that thought into your head," he said, pointing a finger at you. "And if it was you yourself, we are going to have a long talk."
Hearing a round of loud, delighted noise from the side, both of you looked over to see a group of goth teens cackling as they pocked little holes between the cheeks of their marshmallows butts.
"Ah, I knew I had forgotten something," Silver muttered and you dissolved into helpless laughter, ending up leaning against his shoulder and gasping for air.
By the time you calmed down, you were out of breath, your belly aching in the best of ways and you reached up to wipe some moisture away. Silver looked very content and happy, standing there and watching the machine pelt away, people jumping to catch the butts wrapped in paper to keep things sanitary. So they could be picked up and still eaten if they fell to the floor.
He was always so thoughtful, you thought, still leaning against him and not moving away. You had no idea what he got out of being a villain - well, aside from tax fraud, a bunch of other illegal activities and some very, very strange substances you were not going to touch, ever - but you were happy to see him happy. He deserved it.
"They needed that too," Silver said in this moment, nodding at the crowd. "This city hasn’t quite been the same since that villain attacked. They’re relieved to have you back and seeing us fight harmlessly should put more demons to rest."
You hadn’t even thought about that, too caught up in your own trauma as you had been. You looked back at the people and you saw that he was right. There was a visceral relief on many faces, a giddiness that was born half out of the silliness of the situation and half out of a release of fear-filled tension.
They had been even more helpless than you had been. Civilians with no combat abilities and absolutely no chance to survive the Class A villain. All they had been able to do was run while they had to watch you bleed and break and still stand up again and again.
Oh. 
A quiet realization struck you down to your core. You had wondered why people had been polite but not overly warm with the substitute hero. He had sent you regular updates on villain activity and how his patrols had gone, even if it had taken you a while before you had gotten the guts to read it all instead of only the summary. 
He had mentioned that people didn’t seem all that curious about him and he had sulked about that a bit.
All this time you had thought that you had failed them, these people who grinned and waved when they saw you. Who didn’t hesitate to call you away from the street and ask for help or offer you sweets or lunch when you had been patrolling for hours. People who let you hold their babies or hugged you when you brought their lost pets back.
But they hadn’t seen a failure that day months ago. They had seen you, standing between them and certain death and refusing to give up, no matter what. All because you wanted to protect them with all you had.
"Hey, what’s wrong?" Silver’s worried voice cut into your thoughts and when you glanced at him, his brows were furrowed. "Why are you crying? Do you need me to switch off my baby and back up?"
"I’m fine," you croaked weakly, though you totally were tearing up. "I’m just glad to be back, don’t read too much into it."
Silver’s face softened with a quiet bit of relief and he hummed in understanding. "I’m glad, too, by the way," he said after a moment. "To have you back that is. I may have been a wee bit lonely."
You raised an eyebrow, glad that no tears had spilled over. "You saw me almost every day."
"But not like this," Silver said. "Don’t get me wrong, I love watching you destroy the machines of the obstacle course or absolutely ace the simulations, but I missed going up against you like this."
You rubbed the back of your neck, straightening from your slouch against him. "You always say things like that with a straight face." You both admired him for it and felt envious. Sometimes you wished you could just simply say what was on your mind as well.
Silver smiled, a little lopsided and crooked. "Life’s short, so who cares what others think," he said. "All I care about is living every day the best I can."
You knew what he meant by that. He had told you a bit more about his fight against Terra after modifying some more simulations for you. You had even seen a glimpse of the patchwork of scars that fight had left on him, many of them surgery scars. He had barely survived his debut as a villain. His ever first fight and it had been against Terra.
"You know, I wanted to make the butts bigger," he said before you could say anything, smoothly but obviously changing the topic. "But there was only so much I could fit into Ass Kicker 50 and that just wouldn’t do."
"Are you going to run out of butts soon?" you wondered.
Silver hummed thoughtfully. "I guess there is a minute of pelting left at most."
The two of you waited until the machine stuttered and began to slow, the wheel of boots no longer finding marshmallows to kick into the crowd. Silver gestured grandly for you to go ahead and you pressed the dead switch with a small smile.
"Well then." He clapped his hands together. "I guess I should say hello to my favorite warden. He is ever so happy to see me every time."
You couldn’t help but snort, then you hesitated. "You know, you could just…go."
Silver actually looked a little insulted. "Don’t ruin my date with prison, my dear." He beckoned you closer with a finger, presenting his hands. "I want to see if I can walk out the front door dressed like a futuristic clown."
You blinked, in the middle of pulling out your cuffs. "What would that look like?"
He smirked as you reached out towards him. "I guess you’ll have to find out." He leaned in as your hands closed the cuffs around his wrists, warm skin pressed to warm skin and cold metal between. "I’ll make sure to make the news for you."
"Alright," you said, bemused and curious in equal measure. You noticed how warm he was, this close to you, your hands covering his. His breath smelled faintly of peppermint. "Come on, there are two new officers on the roaster who are eager to prove you can’t slip past them."
His face lit up. "Oooh, fun." He chuckled, low and menacing and for once sounding like the villain he was. "I do love ruining their day. Shattered dreams taste ever so delicious."
You rolled your eyes fondly, waving the waiting police over. They hurriedly hid the marshmallow butts they were snacking on and bustled over, trying to look important and menacing. Even if Silver was a very polite and very wonderful villain, he was still wanted for a number of crimes and the state really wanted to prosecute him.
"Be gentle with Ass Kicker 50," you told the clean-up crew who came in to tow the machine away to a storage facility. "She’s done good service."
When you looked back over to Silver, you caught the warm, unbearably fond smile as he watched you on his way to the police car. He cast you a wink as he got in, mouthing, 'Clown'. You playfully wrinkled your nose at him and saw more than heard him laugh as the door was closed.
"Um." A soft, hesitant voice made you look over and you immediately recognized the girl who had approached you. The teenager who had nearly died at your side months ago. "I’m very happy you’re back and that you made a full recovery." She thrust out a small gift. "Thank you, for saving my life."
"And mine." One of her friends bustled over, holding a little wrapped gift as well. "If not for you, I wouldn’t have made it."
You felt speechless, accepting the gifts hesitantly and that seemed to open the floodgates. You were swiftly surrounded by people thanking you and expressing their concern and relief in equal measure. Your arms soon overflowed with gifts, flowers from the elderly, drawn pictures from children and baked cookies from grateful parents. It nearly made you cry.
You did cry a little when you got home, sniffling as you sat in a pile of gifts, reading letters and smiling at the graceless but enthusiastic scribbles of a five year old. Suzie was curled up in your lap, fast asleep as a small bundle of warmth.
You taped all the pictures to one wall and pinned the letters to an old, large pinboard you had gotten a few years ago. You put the food away and the flowers into a vase and scattered the rest of the gifts across your flat in a smattering of decorations.
It had mattered. Ever single moment you had felt helpless and terrified had mattered. You hadn’t been a footnote on some document, lamenting a too early death. Because of you, so many futures still existed, those bright, burning lives not snuffed out by a cruel hand.
You would continue growing stronger for them all, you vowed to yourself. Even if you needed Silver to end the fight and save you again, you would be there. Standing between evil and everyone else as many times as it took.
For the first time in months, you felt like a hero again, too.
You dozed off with the news channel on and jerked awake sometime in the early morning hours just in time to blearily watch a repeated clip of Silver, dressed as a sparkly, futuristic clown, moonwalk dancing out of prison. There it was, his famous, Class A skill of getting out of trouble in the most ridiculous ways.
You were chuckling softly to yourself, reaching out to fish your phone from your coffee table. You already had a message waiting for you.
'Watch me, darling.'
You were still half asleep when you answered, a golden feeling like honey on warm bread filling your chest, 'Always.'
You hesitated, then tapped out one more message, 'If you have any more inventions, I’m ready.'
He answered immediately. 'Oh, darling.' It read and you could hear the glee in his voice in your mind, could imagine the way he brightened. 'I was hoping you’d say that.'
You loved this ridiculous, wonderful man so much, you thought, still bleary and half asleep. Your heart felt so full with good things it felt as though it was spilling over to the point where you had to squeeze a pillow, hiding a wide grin against it.
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