#its the wild west over there

[laurencin-draws]

Hi! I’m in a Zelda fb group that would absolutely go crazy for your stationary! It’s called Zelda Hub and it has 150k members. I totally recommend sharing your post on there, I’m sure you’d get some hits!

Thanks for the heads up! I don't really interface much with FB, but I'm fine with people sharing my artwork on other sites so long as they link back to my tumblr/twitter/etsy (any of them, not all three LOL)!

[nex-has-obssessions]

Where the tall grass and endless fields are.

[luck-of-the-drawings]

(OLD OC SKETCHES) Meet Sunnabelle Von Sunnoviche, final daughter of the Sunnoviche family. Peeking from behind a window, she witnessed a wizards final spell, one that reduced the world to a wasteland. Her noble blood damned her to [HELL], but unwanting to suffer with her family, she made a deal with the devil. She now hunts in his name. The top of her head was taken by the blast on that day. The fires of her spirit have boiled her blood into a super-heated plasma.

[s0fter-sin]

being on twitter and seeing 18yr olds with “minors dni” in their bios is the weirdest thing ever

[skitskatdacat63]

Lone Ranger Gunslinger! Fernando (context)

[bijoumikhawal]

"Biden is the best choice and he's actually really empathetic and reasonable but also you can't wait for a candidate that won't do genocide and war crimes because to become a presidential candidate you have to be willing to do that" see what you fundamentally don't understand is I'm not waiting for a candidate that won't do war crimes, because I know that. I cannot morally stomach this system, it's a joke to claim its democratic, and AMERICA DELENDA EST. this country is a plague on this Earth

[dontbadgerme2233]

there is a hole in my soul in the shape of a cowboy hat and cowboy boots

[fandom-blackhole]

for sleepover ask 💌 :

historical!au + bookstore!au

obi-wan (mullet!wan) is a quiet (but sometimes bitchy) bookstore owner. period piece. could be ye olde bookstore in medieval times, a bookstore next door to a saloon/brothel in the wild west, etc.

Come Celebrate with Me!

6. Bookshop AU 1. Historical AU (Wild West)

Bookshop Owner!Obi Wan x Teacher!Reader

You were still rather new to the small town when you'd entered the small bookstore looking for materials that'd be good for your newly acquired teaching position. Upon entering the store itself gave off a first impression of being heavily disorganized and all over the place, but with closer inspection you'd noticed it was rather neatly organized just in the owner's own self appointed system. 

It was as you trailed your finger along several titles stopping to gently pull out a weathered copy of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, that you'd noticed a brush of movement, silent in every way but to the eye. Just barely seen over the top of a neighboring shelf, you'd spotted a person puzzling over the books in front of them, or at least it seemed that way with what little you could see of flickering eyes that seemed bluer than the sky outside and furrowed brows. You hadn't meant to watch the person, but each time you'd tried to pull your eyes away, back to the shelf in front of you, you'd found them drifting back to glance at those clear blue eyes. After the third time this happened, you felt an embarrassed frustrated flush heat the tips of your ears as you made yet another attempt to page through the copy in your hands, only managing to leaf through a few more pages before finding your eyes trailing upwards once more, only now your eyes met the clear blue as they'd finally noticed your own quiet movement. 

Fully embarrassed now, you watched with a bit of alarm as the person moved in your direction, the clear blue of their eyes now shining with curiosity. In only a few seconds he'd made his way to where you stood clutching Frankenstein to your chest like a lifeline once you got a full view of the man.

Clean. That was your first impression of him. His hair sweated back behind his ears and fell in soft waves to the very top of his shoulders. Shoulders of which you couldn't stop your brain from making an appreciative note were broad with strong looking arms and a full chest connected. He wore just a simple loose cream button down and brown trousers with a set of similarly colored suspenders, of which didn't seem to be doing much as they hung loosely around his waist, and what a waist it was.

Thoughts leading nowhere good, you startled and snapped out of your revelry, dragging your eyes up to meet his again, only pausing once to take in the pin secured to the not of his loose blue neckerchief, small and weathered bronze, obviously old and loved it was circular and printed with what looked like a set of wings with a star connecting both sides in the middle, it was quite beautiful in a plain sort of way. 

Once your eyes met again, you found a soft smile and crinkled eyes to greet you along with a just as softly accented, "Hello there."

Still embarrassed at your gawking, you cleared your throat and answered with your own soft, "Good afternoon."

The man unphased, and seemingly endlessly curious leaned forward, smile somewhat mischievous now, said, "I truly hope its not too forward, but I've never had the grace of seeing you around before, let alone in my shop, may I ask for your name?"

Stuttering out your name, you felt the heat return, but more as a simmering in your chest as you heard the man speak more, his accent a perfect compliment to the rest of his perfectly imperfect-ness. But the man, completely oblivious to your quiet replies, only smiles wider at you and bids you welcome to his shop once more as he introduced himself to you before asking, "And what brings such a fresh face to this part of the world?"

"Oh, I've, uh, I've been hired on to be the town's school teacher. I haven't come with too much and the books at the school building seemed a little worse for wear, so I'd thought I may come refresh the shelves, so to speak."

Brightening even more- you were almost certain he was partially made of pure light at this point, scared if he got any brighter you would no longer be able to look at him, and what a shame that would be- he pointed to the book still clutched in your hands.

"And a wonderful start to your new collection if I might say. A quite many lessons you can squeeze out of my dear friend Ms. Shelley for any age group, I believe," pausing he clasps his hands behind his back, getting a bit of afar off look to his eyes, one that lead you to believe he was deep in thought, before humming and asking, "Do you have any more books in mind you want specifically, because I'd be more than happy to help find anything as well as make any of my own suggestions."

At his offer you felt a bit of relief, and nodded just slightly, "I more so just came in to browse, shocked a store like your own would be in such a small town, but any and all help would be much appreciated Mr. Kenobi."

"Please, no need for formalities, they make me feel stiff and always seem too polite, just Obi Wan is fine. Well as long as you are comfortable with that, my dear." 

With his words, the never ending flush of heat returned once more, as you just nodded a but speechless following the pet names and in his earnest gaze.

After that he led you around the shop offering several more books as he told you a bit about the town and the people, but especially focusing on the children. He'd explained that he'd been holding a story hour for the younger of the town for the last few months and was quite overjoyed that the younglings, as he liked to refer to them as, were finally going to be receiving a proper education.

You truly hadn't meant to spend more than just a few minutes in the bookshop, and possibly only grab two or three books, but you'd noticed that as you'd stepped out of the building after nearly fight with Mr. Ken-, Obi Wan, over whether you were paying for the books or not- he'd eventually won out in just giving you the books, but was unaware of the pennies you'd dropped onto the table quietly by the door as you'd walked out- you'd noticed the midday sun had dipped down as the gold and red hues of sunset started to take over.

As you headed to the small home next to the school house, you felt a nagging sensation at the back of your head, and in turning, you found Obi Wan standing outside his door watching you walk away. Still close enough, you could see his lips turn up once more into a smile as he lifted his hand in a wave, which you returned both, before turning away once more.

The last thing you thought as you'd turned away was how his hair wasn't the sand blonde you'd thought it was in the low light of his shop, but in fact had a coppery hue which formed a glowing hole around him in the dying light of day. 

[girlmetalsonic]

old doodles from like. july?? that i never got around to posting. putting them here bc why not.

[fivehundredsporks]

nothing more liberating than learning you don't need to make up a reason to block/unfollow someone

[ladynoirist]

"FAMILY STRUCTURES WHERE EVERYONE TOOK CARE OF EACH OTHER" tell me you've never met an asian woman without telling me you've never met an asian woman

[freebooter4ever]

I googled 'evgeni malkin painting' and the results were all paintings OF evgeni malkin rather than him doing the painting...i probably should have seen that one coming

[psychotrenny]

The thing with 9/11 is that no one cares that much about the death and destruction itself. Buildings fall down and people die all the time, including in the US. Like at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic you had entire 9/11s worth of USamericans dying on a regular basis. If all that damage was caused by an earthquake or faulty building practices or whatever, there wouldn't have been nearly as much fuss about it. It's not as if the insane response from US population was a matter of "two building fall down"

The reason why 9/11 was so upsetting to the US population was their widespread feelings of Imperialist Chauvinism and the subsequent outrage at seeing it so openly and violently defied. The US was at the height of its Imperialist power at the turn of the millennium, a hegemonic superpower that was dominant in some way over more or less the entire world. Whether they'd phrase it in such a way or not, most people in the US were very well aware of this; as far as they were concerned the US was truly the greatest country on the Earth. For some this was a point of pride, for others it was a simple fact of the world. This made them feel secure; bombings and mass killings might happen in those "shithole nations" of the earth but it couldn't happen over there. The US military could wipe entire cities off the map and like maybe that was good, maybe that was unfortunate and maybe it meant nothing at all. Either way that was normal; the violence flowed from the Core to the Periphery.

Until one day it didn't. One day a group of people from that Periphery, from some shithole group of nations, struck back. Now the sorts of destruction they'd seen on TV were happening right outside their window; the US got the smallest taste of the sort of brutality they had long inflicted on the rest of the world. And they did not like that taste at all. The US people as a whole went mad with grief and rage, not at the death of any people but the death of their sense of unquestionable safety and superiority. And the only hope of getting that feeling back was to inflict a revenge so terrible that no one would dare resist or retaliate again.

If bloodshed was how they'd built their empire, only more bloodshed could keep it safe. And this time they didn't even have to feel bad about it. It's not as if the US empire had ever given the world any peace, but now they had the perfect pretense to escalate it to levels not seen in decades. If they talked about this isolated and comparatively limited attack as though it was some great invasion, the US government and its supporters could take all the moral high ground of "self defence" even as they slaughtered impoverished peoples on the other side of the world. So it made sense to treat the 11 September attacks as though they were the greatest tragedy of all time. 9/11 didn't break the US psyche, it just made them express it in a more shameless way. It's not as though genocidal Imperialist violence was anything new to the USA. Afghans were just the new Apaches; the "Middle East" a new "Wild West"

[mekatrio]

poptropica is being shut down

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’ve been fired exactly once in my life. In my early twenties I was working at a pizza place. The pizzas were artisanal, thin crust and personal. They’re a huge chain now but when I first started the company was in its infancy. It was the wild west of management, and the core investors would frequently stop by to check on things. One of these people was this round little man with rage issues. A knock off Danny Devito with no charisma at all.

His favorite thing to do was to come in on a Friday or Saturday night. We'd be at our stations: taking orders, making pizza, manning the oven, finishing orders off, running the cash register. He'd shove his way onto the line and start rearranging people. "You, get off orders and work the cash register, you come over and make the pizzas!" With a line of customers snaking out the door he'd throw off all our grooves and rattle us.

Then, inevitably, a mistake would happen.

When it did he'd call the person over and say, "Hey c'mere. You're fired." Just like that. No inflection, just a flat "You're fired." It was absolutely a power kink, and because of his involvement the average turn over was three months. You were a veteran at five months.

One night there was only three of us manning the front. I took an order than went to the cash register to ring them out before I made the pizza. This horrible man watched that then called me into the back. I didn't know if I was about to be fired. But I wasn't. In fact, he had one other move besides firing people. He yelled.

In the back he absolutely lost his mind screaming at me for being on the cash register. I'm talking veins popping, spit flying, red with rage, this man just started bellowing nonsensically about where I should be and how I was just such a failure. It was truly like his brain had shut off, nothing he was saying even made sense. I stood there in the face of this tirade for a minute and then set a record for being the first person to ever cut him short by bursting into tears.

He instantly stopped yelling and it was like Jekyll and Hyde. He was remorseful and consoling, deeply embarrassed by my display of emotion. All my male coworkers just took the abuse but faced with my weeping he about faced and instantly backed off. I went outside to cry and when I came back in he pretended it had never happened.

That was the state of things. The investors knew they desperately needed to keep this man out of the stores, but they couldn't just give him the boot. They needed to move him aside and fill his position with someone. The store manager was this lovely woman who had hired me on the spot at my interview. The entire staff adored her. She was the best fit to get this roided out investor out of the stores for good.

Her replacement was this man called Anthony. He was instantly loathed by the entire staff. Condescending, critical, and lazy he started off his reign by letting go a core lead who "back talked." He spent a whole morning berating the opening crew because the closing crew (who had sold 100 more pizzas than we were even supposed to have on hand) had forgotten to windex the doors. He left the entire crew to close without him while he flirted with a girl who wasn't his pregnant girlfriend. He hired his roommate to replace the lead he fired and even that guy hated his guts.

Our antipathy toward him made him paranoid and resentful and one by one he started finding excuses to fire the whole staff, certain that if he could clean house he'd be able to do the job. My time came, and he sat me down with his boss, my former manager. She cried as he announced I wasn't personable enough and used too many pepperonis.

I looked at her, the woman who had trained me on how many pepperoni to use, but she said nothing. What could she say? He was the boss now and had determined I was going to be let go regardless. Too many in this case was seven. Seven pepperonis on a personal pizza. The correct number was five according to him, which is one pepperoni per slice, and one in the middle.

I sat there for a moment, taking it in. I smiled at my old manager, obviously miserable. I looked back at him and said, "You're a terrible manager, you're doing the worst imaginable job." I outlined some of the things he'd done so she could hear them, then I stood up and left. I made it to the back room before I started crying.

I found out later through a bus boy that he replaced the whole staff with college kids who had such limited availability that the store couldn't run, then quit three months later leaving the whole place in shambles. Most of the old staff returned, but I'd moved onto the sex shop already and was enjoying a job with significantly less risk of being fired on a whim.

However I do have to disclose on job applications if I've ever been fired. I always says yes and list the reason as, "Excessive use of pepperoni." It has never failed to get a laugh from my interviewer.

[the-promise-has-been-made]

I'm sorry, oceangate wants to send people to VENUS ?? second star away from the SUN, hottest planet in our solar system (other than the sun) Venus ??? 464 °C SURFACE TEMPERATURE VENUS ??

I KNOW!! (Apparently not oceangate but one of its co-founders, which I guess megalomaniac hubris comes with the job?)