#shit is bad yo

[monkeybebop]

Jesse Pinkman come home the kids miss u…

[timeisacephalopod]

If American politics wants to be the funniest 2 weeks to a month before the election both Donald Trump and Joe biden would die of natural causes

[rafrfr]

What my friend nicknamed each LU boy:

(She never learned the fandom names nor has she picked up a Legend of Zelda game. I forced her to read LU because I wanted her to)

The friend in question: @theachskid

Warriors: Green, because of his tunic. I asked and she said "I saw green so I said green". I almost had a heart attack when she said that but he's Green I guess.

Time: Bluehead, because of the marks on his forehead. I don't...I don't know.

Four: Laurence. She thought Four was a girl lmao. When she first saw Four she asked if he was a girl and I just went "...yes😈" to see what would happen. She was so upset when she found out Four was not a girl because she loved lesbian Four x Dot. I regret nothing.

Twilight: Insert Name Here. I hate it. I hate saying it so much. It's too long but she said she couldn't think of anything else.

Wild: Bonbon. I can't explain it. It's so...what?? Why??? I never asked her and I don't want to know why she chose Bonbon

Sky: Shadow. This is where my second heart attack comes in. She said it was because he looked so emo. The Shadow. The (probably) main bad guy in LU? Shadow Link? Four Swords? I hate calling him Shadow when I talk to her about him for obvious reasons.

Hyrule: Mistake. I can't explain it. She says it's because he looks like a mistake (I'm so sorry Riri) and whenever she reads his lines it's always in the most flamboyant voice she can muster. I hate it but it's perfect.

Legend: Fortnite. This is because when we were deciding names, she was just naming stuff in her room and I said "No, choose something better" and she chose Fortnite. It's perfect.

Wind: Frederick. When she first saw Wind in the first chapter, she laughed and called him Frederick. Wind was the first one she named and was her favorite for a long time (Until she started simping for Twilight so bad. It's so bad)

[thephooka]

I've been dreaming of making a webcomic for nearly half of my life, and I've just started actually working on that, but... do you think it's worth it for me to start even with the decline of the scene? White noise is quite possibly my favorite piece of media, period, and it's in a format I love, so I figure you're a good person to ask the thoughts of.

(In reference to this post, I am guessing.)

ABSOLUTELY! 100%! MAKE YOUR WEBCOMIC!! Please don't let the whinging of us old heads deter you from making a project that you're passionate about.

I think it's important to ask yourself what would make it 'worth it' in your mind. What do you want out of making a webcomic? Is it that you want to experience the act of creation? Do you have a story you need to get out? Is your goal to get a book printed? To have a large audience? To improve your artistic and storytelling skills? To make a living on your artwork? To make merch? Some of these are way harder to do today, but some of these are goals that you will reach simply by making your webcomic.

If it helps at all, I had to do a lot of this kind of talk to myself when I was starting in 2011 (less because of the scene and more because I was low in self-confidence.) The only way I could get myself to start posting WN on Smackjeeves was to remind myself that I was doing this for myself only, and maybe no one would read it, and that would be ok, because if nothing else I would be making something I love and I would learn a lot doing it. 13 years later and I'd consider my goals met, even if I stopped WN before I'm truly done with it.

(Which speaking of, I feel very strongly that unfinished or abandoned webcomics are not a waste of time for either the reader OR the creator. Just because a story doesn't get an ending--or gets an ending you don't like--doesn't mean it's without worth!!)

The webcomic scene is not going to fully disappear anytime soon--it's just suffering the same corporatization that has gripped almost every art scene at some point in some way, and I think that problem has been compounded by the consolidation of the internet into a few social media platforms. But those platforms will crumble, and the corporations will bail once they can't squeeze any more money out of webcomics. The scene won't ever been the same as it was in the 2010s, but that's how time works, and that doesn't mean it won't ever get better than it is or that there's not gems to be found now. The only way it gets better is if more people make and read webcomics!

[fregget-frou]

Na’vi oc with the whole “draw with you’re own culture” so here’s Eamon who’s inspired by Irish celts!

I got a bit of history that i know of so some stuff i included in his design:

A life tree brooch, both incredibly important to me and Celtic symbols as it shows the connection to Mother Earth and life, and it’s important to Na’vi culture with their similarities in focus

More traditional braiding styles, I used mostly feminine braids and very loose and messy but in reality hed have Celtic knots on his forehead where the brass hair brooch is at, and his braid having a more plaited look. Here’s some examples of what I mean, there are more intricate but this is what I drew Eamon wearing currently

His clan would be more wealthy in resources with their ability to gain brass/the equivalent in pandora and are mostly found in the plains and mountains with the horses. Personally I think Eamon would be a more spoiled and less violent type than his brothers and would focus more on material gain they glory, he still is a trained warrior as was pretty common as sons of a chieftain.

Fun fact! The white streaks are from a water/limestone mix that bleached and stiffened hair. Kinda like an early hair spiker/gel! I would’ve drawn aLOT more tattoos but I’m tired and I really didn’t wanna draw celtic knot’s because I’m dumb and they’re very hard to draw

[dailykugisaki]

Day 336 | id in alt

Happy birthday to this forsaken ass blog.

[cinamun]

Know your worth | Next

[dawnofiight]

Picture it! Asher x David argument

I feel like they have tiny arguments that aren't really all that serious. But occasionally they have a really big fight. Like super huge. And it always doubles down to either a misunderstanding or David being a problem solver and not a comforter.

Milo being the mediator because his bfs are stupid.

I just think whenever they argue it's always over something that could easily be solved if they would just be like "ok wait we're arguing about two completely different things" or maybe even a "ok so this is not a problem solving issue and a comfort issue"

It was worse right after Gabe died. David was in no mood for comfort, as soon as he was appointed Alpha he wanted to fix things to prove he was a good alpha. But, when Asher needed a hug instead of "just do this" that's not what happened so they blew up on each other and said things they both didn't mean.

Asher hits David with a : I know you're feeling pretty incompetent right now but can you not talk down to me and make me join you???

And David is like : .

And then they don't talk to each other for like weeks.

[rawliverandgoronspice]

Gantober #4 - Seafoam

(Wind Waker, Ganondorf & Beedle, non-graphic violence)

Tearing himself off a broken seal, Ganondorf discovers his homeland disfigured by an endless sea —and a stranger calling it home willing to help.

(Full disclosure: I'm flying off the seat of me poorly remembering my decade-old Wind Waker walkthrough and details gleaned back on vague research I did over a year ago, so I do apologize for any dubiously canon choices made here)

---

Ganondorf had waged wars larger than the sky. He had crushed skulls under his boot as an afterthought. He had basked in roaring infernos, found comfort in the musk of old blood. Even his own torment, either while sealed beyond reality or when his body had twisted to unnatural shapes from his restless abuse of Power, he had grown to rely upon as something expected —and therefore, under his control.

But there he stood, stranded on a mere constellation of sand in the middle of the night, staring on and on at the black sea surrounding him from all sides.

And nothing seemed to stomp his rising horror.

Salt. He didn’t mind salt, usually. Here, it was dizzying. A wound in the earth. A wound where Hyrule —his Hyrule— used to be. Water had swallowed all of it. In the darkest depths of the sea, there lied his castle, his hard-earned victories, the villages he sacked and those erected in their place by the monsters serving him. He may have broken the seal forced upon him, but his entire life slumbered down the abyss. For how long did he drift, outside of time and space? There was nothing left but salt. Angry froth surrounding him from all sides. The Goddesses did not care for what they once called holy. What was there even to yearn for anymore, beyond wreckage and mud?

The infernos had all drowned. Even he was now drenched and cold; his ageless bones incapable of resisting neither the waves or the rain.

He did not notice the boat that beached nearby until it was too late, and it took its sailor two attempts to finally catch his attention.

“All good sir?”

Ganondorf tore his eyes from the shore. The man who screamed at him from the deck was a stickbug of a hylian, with a horrendous bowl cut and a drooping pink nose. His sunkissed, freckled skin shivered under the tremors of a coming storm, but still: he smiled, with concern. “Not to assume nothin’, but it’s a sad old place to be shipwrecked if you ask me!”

Hands on hips, face open, eager to help. Obviously clueless as to who he was.

Nobody had stared at Ganondorf that way in hundreds of years.

He considered killing the straggler and taking his embarkation for himself. Faster, easier. But of all the many skills the gerudo king had perfected during his unnaturally long life, sailing had never even crossed his mind as something worth his attention. And the thought of trying to keep this poorly wielded rotting wood afloat in a storm, hands coarse with ropes he couldn’t make sense of above miles upon miles of this terrible salt water that wanted him back in the dark... A sharp pang of hatred seared down his throat. The Goddesses must be finding his predicament oh so hilarious.

The stranger, named Beedle, made what room he could for him on his bark; but said bark was tiny, and Ganondorf could only fit against the wall of the inner cabin, stuck between crates of food and heaps of arrows. A ceiling lamp swung above his head followed by a swarm of eager moths, threatening to set his forehead on fire. The hylian’s sunny disposition dimmed somewhat after Ganondorf’s pointed silence and lack of outward thanks for all this effort, but he still refused to let it die entirely and carried the conversation for them both.

“Hoping my humble abode can be a welcome shelter for the time being, my good sir.” Good sir. Ganondorf bit his tongue not to emote. “Please don’t be shy around my wares as well! If something catches your eye, I’m sure we can agree to somethin’ or another!” The hylian’s eye nicked at his jewelry, barely attempting to be subtle. “It’s rare to see folks as fancy as you in these parts. It’s the pirates, you see. I suppose it’s them who gave you trouble?”

Ganondorf evaded the too-intense gaze of the merchant. Of course, in this sparse flooded world, information would be as precious as rupees. He elected to be as greedy as he could in this particular department.

“I simply… got lost,” he muttered.

His voice was rough, ancient, looming. He didn’t sound like the way he remembered. The small hylian tensed and nodded, with a frown deep enough to suggest he was growing less worried about his guest and more about himself. Thunder crashed outside. A large wave rolled under the planks at their feet; the boat croaked, almost organically. Ganondorf shivered.

“Welp. Happens to the best of us I guess!” The owner scratched his bare stomach, his best efforts at joy dipping into nervousness. “Where are you going then? I can drop you off to any place that’s on my usual route!”

Ganondorf clenched his jaw. He had no good answer to this question. He didn’t know anything about this strange new world. Didn’t recognize anything. Where were they, right now? Above which landmark he could still perfectly recall in his mind, lively and luscious, sprawling under the indulgent sun of Hyrule?

“I… I don’t…”

He caught himself, this disgusting vulnerability in that shredded voice, before it could spill out fully. Anger smothered him instead; then something more painful, akin to the jagged cuts of weapons somehow lodged even deeper than flesh. He thought of gutting the pleasant man, right here and now. Take him apart limb from limb among all these goods and produce Ganondorf had never seen before. But the storm raged outside —and to be stuck there, in this claustrophobic cabin, waiting to be toppled over and drowned once again…

“Y-You know what?” Beedle proposed, hands joined, helpful in a way that neared pity. “I can take you to Windfall Island! It’s the biggest port around, and I’m sure you’ll find someone there who can help you out. You seem a little…” He swallowed. “A little... out of it, sir.”

His skin crawled. That idiot would strand him on an island full of hylians, chipper and knowledgeable and unbearably alive.

“No,” Ganondorf grunted. “Take me… Take me somewhere quiet, and near. Someplace with solid land.”

The hylian cocked his head.

“I’m not quite sure about that plan, sir. There’s a Fortress close-by, sir, I’m sure you’ve heard of it. The waters are full of pirates. It’s not safe here! They’d capture you in a heartbeat, and oh!” The poor little man deflated, rubbing his bare arms, as if to ward off his own imagination. “They’d have ways to make you spill where the rest of your fancy gold is hidden, sir!”

Ganondorf couldn’t help his snickering. His right hand burned quietly under the full length of his sleeves. “A fortress, you say?”

“Horrible place! Dreadful place! They’ve stolen from me before, the vultures!”

“Take me there.”

Beedle’s eyes and mouth drew the shape of three perfect circles.

“Sir!” He squealed, red with offense. “No amount of rupee in the world could convince me to go there! I’ll never risk my wares, my very life…”

“Where I come from, merchants know to take risks when it matters,” Ganondorf said. And that much was true. Gerudo merchants had saved his kingdom countless times over before he was old enough to wield a sword himself. Not all of them returned home alive.

“And why on earth would it matter to me?!” Beedle crossed his arms, outraged. “They’ll shot my poor boat on sight! So whatever you could offer me in exchange…”

“You’re assuming I will let you refuse.”

Silence, if not for the roar of the sea.

The hylian’s eyes were large and misty, his knees threatening to give. “Sir…” He wailed, crumbling on himself, even tinier than before. “I rescued you.”

“And I am not ungrateful,” Ganondorf smiled. “Yet.”

¤

The merchant sniffled and muttered under his breath the entire way, but it didn’t take much more than a few hours for Ganondorf to see the silhouette of a large structure overtaking the stormy horizon. Beedle tried not to cry as he slalomed through the coves and razor-sharp stones, knowing himself watched, both by his guest and the pirates outside surely well aware of their presence. Ganondorf considered telling him they would be safe from cannon fire no matter what, but decided to keep his magical prowess undisclosed for as long as he could. He simply didn’t know enough about the rules of this new world to fashion a reputation for himself yet. Dreadful outcasts with a penchant for knives and thievery, however? A consequence-less trying ground.

An anchor, in so many ways.

They weren’t prevented from boarding the pier, but were awaited right outside. The vicious wind swashed buckets of sea water over a collection of armed silhouettes, staring at the humble bark with open distrust and slight bafflement. Ganondorf eyed over each of them. About twenty, that he could see. All of them with pointy ears, safe for the two gorons in the back. Brown hair, blonde hair, white hair.

All of them men.

Ganondorf refused to give room to the childish hope within withering into something cold and empty, and advanced towards the line. Beedle made a whimpering sound behind him.

“That’s close enough I’d say.”

A man cut through the pirates and stepped forth. The bulky kind, bald-headed and scarred, with one golden tooth sharpened far past what most would think reasonable. He towered over his crew, but barely reached Ganondorf’s shoulder. He nodded towards the cowering merchant behind his back.

“Must have given that lad his weight in rupees to convince him to sail here. We have history, don’t we Beedle?”

The crew laughed, and the poor hylian was but half a breath from sobbing openly.

“I hear you’re the terror of the sea,” Ganondorf noted.

The man puffed his chest. “Aye we are. So what made you think it was a good idea to come check for yourself? Want to donate to the cause?” Every pirate openly eyed at the large jewels adorning his fine robes. Gerudo craftsmanship had always stirred outsiders’ imagination, even back when cultural context hadn’t been completely lost to the waves.

Ganondorf crossed his arms. “I suppose it depends on the cause.”

The pirate chief laughed, a bit too loud to be believable as effortless contempt. His stance was ever-slightly defensive. Ganondorf was being seized up, and correctly identified as a threat.

“Our cause?! Get richer than the lost kingdom through other people’s honest work! I didn’t think it would need clarification!” Another step closer, one that felt like bravado. The man held up an open palm that missed half a finger. “So how are you willing to contribute?”

Ganondorf didn’t bother moving. He stared deep into the washed-out green eyes of the pathetically wet hylian in front of him. Small threats. Threats of no ambition. This was all the Goddesses could handle, and not a single thing worse: mediocre hylians, content with their lackluster lot, fearlessly cruel in the pettiest of ways.

He shook his head, giving the surroundings a good look instead of paying the captain undeserved attention. Crows cackled above their head, and bigger birds seems to nest in the cliffs. Hard to navigate, tall and angry, strong against the storm, unpleasant to be around.

Suitable.

“I quite enjoy this island,” Ganondorf declared at last. “As for you, terror of the sea… You can all stay here and serve my cause, or you can take your leave right away.”

Some man in the back thought it was a joke and laughed; but the humor died down soon enough. Exclamations bubbled through the assembled crew like a fit of bad coughs, growing in intensity. Beedle hid his face in his hands, terrified, and muttered a prayer.

“What did you say?!” The captain belched out. “Are you out of your mind—who the hell do you think you are?!”

A younger version of himself would have used the opportunity to brag, just to feel the kick of his own resolve; a promise muttered back to himself. But Ganondorf was far past reassurance now.

“Or you can all watch each other die if you prefer,” Ganondorf added, with the familiar coldness that preceded his worst slaughters.

That was too much for the poor merchant. Abandoning all reason, the little hylian skedaddled back to his boat with a high pitch sound of distress. Smart move. The pirates were all focused on the actual danger, and Ganondorf would have disliked letting a survivor bear witness to the worst of what he could do. Now was not the time. And, after all, he had no reason to be ungrateful and needlessly destructive. Not everything had to end up in blood, he supposed. Violence was a lesson he’d have to unlearn soon if we was to re-adapt to this new, brutal reality.

But as of now…

“We’ll knock some sense back into you, old man!” the man spat out—old man? Ganondorf wasn’t sure he appreciated being perceived as frail and weary; those feelings were supposed to be private. But the captain didn’t seem to realize his overstep and unsheathed a crude saber to his face. “Everyone with me!”

They all attacked at once, swords drawn and eager.

Ganondorf grinned. Twin blades slotted into his waiting hands.

That simple joy, of all joys dead and gone, the Goddesses had yet to take from him.

¤

The slaughter was over before it started. The pirates were even worse off than he feared. None of them would have survived the wars he had waged centuries prior. In this barren world of salt and greedy water, plunderers were weak and arrogant, and lonely travelers trusted so easily. The deluge didn’t even select the worthiest to carry on this accursed future.

Leaning from the highest balcony he could find, Ganondorf stared at a much quieter sea. Dawn brushed over the crests of wave in pinks and golds and green. Seagulls, crows and even angrier birds screamed their delight in the fierce offshore wind. Far in the distance, he could distinguish the shape of Beedle’s bark, fast escaping the trail of blood left behind. Ganondorf was taken by a vague need to acknowledge what this man had done for him, this thankless mercy drenched in unfair retribution. Do something just, perhaps. Sort the stolen goods and restore what once belonged to him. Make his effort worth something... but already, so soon, the little dot tipped over the foam and disappeared from view entirely.

The waves covered its tracks, and Ganondorf was alone.

He closed his eyes, allowing the sun to trick him into unguarded longing. But that couldn’t last. He couldn’t afford rest. He couldn’t afford peace. This was how the Goddesses had lured everyone else into accepting this; the smallness of letting oneself drift; an existence happily unmoored. That wasteland. That living wound they all called home.

Ganondorf turned away from the horizon, the sun, the wind, runaway boats with small cargo and far greater fears. The Triforce of Power scorched his blood-splattered hand. Ganondorf focused on the pain until it devoured everything else; and then, only then, could he start to think with regained dignity about the arduous path to triumph.

[loveryoushouldvecomeover-mp3]

said this before but being bad at things will always be soooo endearing and beautiful and whimsical To Me like gosh you're so bad at this thing you're learning for the first time what a wonder!! what a curious individual with a lust for life you are what a lust for life!!!!! and if this isn't your first time and yet you're still bad at it how lovely too! your enjoyment doesn't come from being the best or even being good but just the participation of such a thing!!!!?!??? what a fucking lust for fucking life!

[hershey-not-the-chocolate-maybe]

heh

[djpurple3]

Practicing Wilsons and Willows bc i cant sleep + closeups of my fav doodles under the cut

They r judging u. together.

[hermannsprecursors]

Oh, now it seems You and me Are two leaves caught in the stream

Yeah Im really mad about the What If? season 2 finale and think that the writers would've been smarter to have had Stephen and Peggy learn from each other that their lives don't need to revolve around the lovers they've lost and that they can take control of the hopeless loneliness that seems to affect them in every universe, effectively choosing to remove it from their own stories.

I can't tell if I'm subconsciously shipping them or if I just think they have a lot to learn from each other but man, you know the source material is bad when Im shipping the non-canon straight ship

As always, like < reblog !!! Also, my commissions are open! Dm me if interested!!! Every little bit helps ^^

[amanedachi]

dubnium / (draw)showtime

Part of LoL Esports Elemental Series.

[timeisacephalopod]

I decided to look yoga apps up because yoga has mental health benefits and I wanted a way to stretch and work my body's muscles, improving flexibility and generally just making sure my body is moving and my muscles are working. Instead the first app I downloaded immediately asked for my height and weight, which I should have taken as the red flag it was, because after putting in the information being 5'6 and 200 pounds gave me a fuckin orange writing warning I'm obese and "might need to lose weight to be healthy."

I don't know how or why anyone would make an app where the first thing it does is insult the user and fat shame them instead of oh, I don't know, give me the simple yoga routines I was looking for but I immediately deleted that app because I'm not interested in immediately bring told my body is wrong and bad and needs to be changed! It's deeply dehumanizing, ignorant, and alienating. I don't care if you think I'm a fat piece of shit all I wanted was a way to move my body, not a needless and ignorant lecture from an app using the famously extremely accurate and not at all problematic BMI 🙄🙄🙄

[buddyhollyscurls]

Bro Armando be LIVING for drama bc Betty clearly asked him NOT to mention Patricia snooping her office and what does he do? Fight with Marcela about it like she wants to talk about Betty causing scenes she should look at her man bc she didn't even want it mentioned