#mid 30s

[annasellheim]

next part

[shegottosayit]

Being in my mid 30s just makes life seem real

[thorodinsonii]

haven't been out in the wild without work clothes in a while.

enjoy my pop-punk, emo dad even in his mid-30's aesthetic

[blue-velvet-valentina]

When you hate people but want someone to love you, but they have to keep their distance because you hate people, but the distance makes you feel lonely...

What's worse is making friends my age is harder.

[themellowyellowmomma]

At 1:16am I will be 35.

[zoneofsmites]

Im of the full (possibly delusional) belief that Durge is not the species that they physically appear to be.

You’re telling me this being crafted from nothing but bhaal’s flesh and his blood - this demigod - is actually a dragonborn/tiefling/human/elf/etc.

No. This thing is bhaal’s flesh and it just happens to look like that. They’re an imitation of a species, they’re not truly a (full)mortal being, they have no heritage aside from bhaal.

As a result I’m sure there’s some…oddities.

For example, a demigod child, not fully mortal. I doubt they adhere to the lifespan of whatever species they look like. Looking younger than they should. (less so perhaps with long lived races like elfs and half-elves where that is par for the course).

A dragonborn durge that by all accounts looks like a blue dragonborn but their breathweapon is acid. A tiefling durge that seems to be a Mephistopheles tiefling but they cannot cast mage hand, instead smiting like a zariel bloodline tiefling.

An elf or tiefling durge that doesn’t read as fey or infernal trough identification spells. Because they aren’t either of those things. Perhaps they could read as divine but not quite.

Members of a race that durge is supposed to be looking at them and sometimes when making eye contact they read as wrong. And some kind of uncanny effect triggers in their brain.

Give me more freaky durge who isn’t really what they appear to be at all. Just a little murder demigod crafted from dead god flesh to be the shape of something else.

[subtlesolitude-tailoredtaste]

I. Swear. To. God.

*taps gaudy box wireless mic*

Mooooddd.

[driftsart]

Starscream and Skyfire's young years

[pachimation]

they lost focus and had a consensual workplace relationship 😔

[infizero]

my interpretation of grian is like what if there was a 20 year old rave girl stuck in the body of a 36 year old uptight loser

[annasellheim]

I have been working on a book for the last three years. It was going to be published by two separate publishers that have since gone out of business. I was told it was too "weird" for any other publisher to be picked up, but was a story worth sharing. I was told to Kickstart it, but that would take more refining, and I'm fucking sick of this book.

So I'll be posting the whole thing on here in piecemeal. YOU'RE WELCOME!!!!

Here's the pitch letter:

Brittle by Anna Sellheim 159 pages Black and white

Logline:

After a lifetime of trying to ignore physical pain and emotional trauma by avoiding human connection, Anna takes a chance on her first romantic relationship at the age of 29. Will therapy and her love of art help her make meaningful and lasting relationships?

Synopsis:

Anna is an artist who desperately craves connection and seeks validation. However, early childhood trauma and an isolating bone disease have led to a lifetime of anger, depression, an eating disorder, and an overwhelming fear of rejection. When Anna takes a chance on her first romantic relationship at the age of 29, she goes to therapy to make sure she doesn’t blow it. Will therapy and her practice as an artist help Anna make the connections she has wanted her whole life?

Audience

The audience for this book would be those interested in graphic memoir, graphic medicine, exploring childhood trauma, chronic pain, people with uncommon genetic diseases, disability narratives, and those interested in whether connecting to your inner child is actually helpful. This book would also appeal to fans of Tessa Brunton’s Notes From A Sickbed, Lynda Barry’s 100 Demons, and Keiler Roberts’ Miseryland.

Bio

Anna Sellheim is originally from Washington DC. She earned her MFA in comics from the Center For Cartoon Studies in 2016. She has been published by the Nib, Oni Press and Seven Days. She also has contributed to a number of anthologies, most notably Dirty Diamonds and Comics For Choice. She has taught adult literacy in DC and has taught art and comic classes throughout the DMV Area and New England. She now works at the Refugee Youth Program, where she teaches art and comics to refugee youths ages 5-21 throughout Baltimore. Her work primarily deals with mental health, trauma, and the healing power of art.

[essektheylyss]

The dichotomy between Essek in Aeor Arc I and Aeor Arc II is incredible. The first time he was in the throes of crushing guilt, he was often walking on eggshells, and he was largely an anxious wreck. He got to be competent and in control of his own destiny like twice total. This time around he's confident and assured even when things are going wrong, he's deeply unafraid to show it when he's pissed off, and he will not shut up about his boyfriend. Absolute glow-up. I love this for him SO much.

[razzafrazzle]

human marzi!! almost got the whole main cast designed now :o]

[image description: a page of drawings for a human design of marzipan from homestar runner, where she is depicted as a chubby woman with two prosthetic legs that is wearing a long corduroy purple skirt, a matching cardigan, and sandals. next to a fullbody drawing of her is a drawing of her original design, a drawing of her in a long purple dress, and a drawing of her in her sultry buttons costume, where she has black hair and sunglasses. end id]

[woodsywarbler]

Coming Home (to you!)

[themellowyellowmomma]

[shalomniscient]

maybe hot take but i do think it’s entirely possible to romance arlecchino even if you didn’t know her before clervie died, it’ll just take a really, really long time. the slow burn of the century, even. obviously there are things you have to be, like an ally to the house and a fatui member, but beyond that it’s really just a waiting game. it’s the progression from colleague to ally to trusted confidant before she would consider even looking at you platonically. and then maybe years of being just friends, at least to her, before she realises that maybe what she feels for you at this point goes beyond the bounds of friendship.

of course, when she realises this, she vanishes off the face of teyvat for a good month or so to go on a nice emotional crisis bender. maybe she even deploys you to some other corner of the continent to very pointedly avoid your presence because uh oh, feelings, and she has 0 clue what to do. sucks to be her, though, because she is also very pointedly miserable without your company. not in super obvious way—it’s arlecchino—but her kids and subordinates will notice that she’s slightly… off. always looking to her side where you’re supposed to be, but aren’t. it takes her a while and maybe a trip to that old broken arena, looking out at the vast sea before she finally reconciles her feelings with herself.

she loves you. not the same way she loved clervie, never the same way—but she loves you.

when she calls you back to her side she most certainly does not breathe a word of this to you. and it’ll take her even more time to do that step, carefully assessing your every action and reaction. she asks the children about you more, and they share knowing glances. your likes, dislikes. hobbies and even guilty pleasures. she almost unconsciously starts to court you, but plays it off as fortunate coincidences.

the director of this new play at the epiclese happened to give me two tickets for free. care to join me?

there’s a new item on the menu at hotel debord. i intend to try it; i believe some of the children may enjoy such things. however, a second opinion would also be valuable. shall we?

(the fact that the play is a romance one and the menu item is a couples’ special is a fact she conveniently avoids bringing up.)

i imagine she’d confess eventually in a surprisingly casual way. maybe you’re both standing on the shore, watching the sunset. the both of you talk about unimportant things, but it’s only with you that arlecchino wants to indulge in these unimportant things, if only to hear the sound of your voice. she’d say the words under the light of the pale moon, always having been more comfortable under the silver light than that of the sun’s. she won’t say the words outright, no i-love-yous, but something just enough.

you are valuable to me, she’ll say, watching the waves roll, as if simply stating another unimportant thing. but her body betrays her, the subtle tense of her shoulders and the way her fingers twitch by her sides. you are not expendable.

it’s fine, though, because you’ve known her long enough to know what she means. and when she finally kisses you for the first time it’s with the slightest hint of hesitance and uncertainty, but there is a sincerity in her that you could not deny if you tried. that night you walk back to the house with your arm looped in hers, and as she watches you watch the world she thinks she could never go back to the one she had before you.