#so its very tasty

[thejoobiestnerd]

So I just got caught back up with @okiedoketm's wonderful fic Koby's Awful No-Good Very Confusing Day and- after a brief discussion in the discord- decided to draw the peanut gallery of two of the future Kobys reacting to fails from the current plot. This specific Moment is from Chapter 14 (15th in the ao3 fic if you include the interlude)

Close-ups and individual pics below the cut!

[wasyago]

quick "chip" sketch from ep 109

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

i saw them in the cookbook pages and Immediately thought of this meme:

[youhavebeentraceyd]

i really appreciate this about brennan, he's very straight forward when it comes to competitions (see his rant regarding the whishy washy point system for Make Some Noise). cooking competitions, in particular, can be extremely subjective, but brennan goes ahead and says 'no fuck that, i'm making this objective AF. I have a set criteria, jessica hit the critera the most, therefore she wins. end of discussion.'

[lovesickeros]

☆ love; heretical and divine

{���} characters tsaritsa {☆} notes cult au, yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood {☆} word count 0.8k

To love a God is heretical. It is an act of blasphemy– it is to drag them down from their throne of hollow gold, to topple the pedestal the worshipers uphold on their shoulders like lambs at the herders heel. It is the act of forcing them to their knees and ripping that beating heart of glorious gold and beautiful, cruel divinity from their chest, so pure it burns.

To love a God is to make them sin. To make them painfully, horribly human.

To love a God is to sin.

The love of a worshiper is no love at all, brilliant in its raw purity, untainted by sin. It is fear and obedience masked by adoration so overpowering it corrupts. It makes the lamb so unquestioning in it's faith it will never question the knife that cuts, the teeth that rip, the claws that tear. If the Creator deemed them unworthy of the very life crafted by their hands, then they must have committed a sin so grave there lay no salvation for their horrid soul.

But she is no worshiper– her lips speak of heresy as easily as she breathes, her words nothing but lies, cold and cruel like the ice that crawls along her skin like webs.

She loves a God like a lover should.

A damned sinner reaching longingly for the heavens.

She loves a God in the subtle brush of their lips, their muffled voices behind closed doors as they indulge in curiosity untamed. She is a sinner through and through, but she feels herself fall further with every brush of her hand across their cheeks, every touch she bestows upon them like a lover. She memorizes the imperfections of their body like memorizing a map– every scar, every mark, every line drawn on their body like a canvas, her touch the brush that stains the pristine white.

No devoted lamb shall ever see the painting they create in these stolen moments– it is for the eyes of a heretic so vile it makes them shudder, their body dirtied by the love of a woman so vile even their divinity is obscured by the ice.

The lambs may be satisfied with fleeting glimpses of gold and empty words from lips that guide them to the jaws of the wolves, but she is not. Her hands crave them like a starving hound, aching to touch that imperfect skin hidden by the veil of gold that obscures the painfully human body beneath. She longs to free them from the golden cage that binds them– to see their wings blot out the sky, their divinity tainted by sin and making them all the more beautiful for it.

It is a longing that leaves a festering wound that cannot heal, will not heal. Even if it could, she would not let it.

For as much as she tries, deny it as she may, she is no better then the blind lambs following the herder who holds a blade in their hand, glittering like gold in the sun, stained by dull red.

She is a fool, and what a fool they make of her with the touch of their hands against her skin– so cold it leaves frost on their fingertips. Yet they do not fear the cold, mapping out every inch of her imperfections, carved into her body by her own hands.

She has always been a heretic, cursing the divine until she could speak no more, but if divinity can be found in them – in this love that consumes, that burns her hands and her lips – then she is a Saint, praying at the altar until her throat bled.

But in the end, she has and will always be a cold woman with hands stained with blood. Until it is all she can taste, until it is all she can smell, until it is all she can feel. These hands of hers, heretical and divine, will bleed the God from their veins– she will become the wolf to their lamb until the rivers of Teyvat run gold with their ichor, until the gold bleeds into red, the taste of their divinity on her tongue.

Until she drags a God from their lofty throne and makes of them a monster.

There is no greater triumph to the heretic then to love a God into sin. To make a God sin to love.

To love is to be human, and they are no God.

Even if she must tear the gold from their very being until all that's left is something human. Even if Teyvat crumbles and decays, even if it begins over and over again..

She will do it again and again, until the gold can bleed no longer. Until her sins grow too great for Teyvat to contain.

To love a God is to devour, and be devoured. An endless cycle of sin that dulls the glow of gold into something new– something horrifying and divine, in it's own right. Something just as horrid as her, just as divinely corrupted by the sins she carries on her shoulders like a trophy, as gold as the sun and as cold as ice.

Divinity, carved into something human by love all consuming, until it all bleeds away and they begin their dance anew, for as many cycles as it takes.

An eternity, if she must, of dooming this world of theirs to fire and decay for a glimpse of the being snared by their golden shackles.

[skitskatdacat63]

2010 Bahrain Grand Prix - Fernando Alonso

[waxsuyaaa]

bam! art study/ tutorial thang

love the painterly artstyle @niroku

i hope you can read my handwriting

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

ari i ask this with all the love in my heart, when are you going to start spamming the dash again ? i miss you on it

(also answer asks please 🥺)

ahhhhhh :’) no clue tbh ….. i’ve been very busy and kinda stressed lately / my brain’s refusing to work, so i really can’t tell you when it’ll let me do the things i Want to do lmao … just doing uni stuff and trying to write takes so much effort . not to make you feel bad for asking !!!! i’m happy you enjoy the spam hehe >:3

same for asks unfortunately:((( not kidding when i say i have like 250+ rn so it’s just …. a Lot . i am planning to answer them all and am excited to do so but i can’t tell you when, it’s basically out of my hands atp ;;;; so no pressuring pls !!! :’3 i feel very very guilty just knowing i’ve let em pile up so much

[celestialtrolls]

i was gonna draw more but i ended up spending more time on this and now its past 8am...

don't mind vi's expression she is ELATED to have a real kitchen to cook food in sometimes and someone who wants to share food with her

[ye-olde-tardis]

So, who's prepared for the Loki finale because I sure ain't

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

honestly. half the fun of fantasy aus for me is the Food Descriptions

[volfoss]

[ID: A slice of French toast casserole on a white plate with a fork. /End ID]

Crisis basically averted bc look how good this looks!!

[lovesickeros]

in the meantime come to horrifying realization there's like zero yan clorinde content so everyone sit down and listen to my ted talk (this is a requirement I have locked the doors and blocked the fire exits)

personally don't think Clorinde leans towards threats to be honest. she'd feel horrible and guilty if she did and I don't think she could handle you hating her or being afraid of her (maybe if you pushed her far enough then maybe she could justify it because she's trying to protect you but you'd really have to push it).

imo? leans more towards following you around with a hint of subtle manipulation behinf the scenes0. even if it's within the confines of the Court of Fontaine and the place is swarming with Gardemeks you can never be too sure. absolutely fumbles the excuse if you catch her though (if)

the epitome of gentleman, too. she "bumps" into you a lot and always offers to help– even if it's just a few small bags she takes them from you to help ease your burden, basically following you around like a lost puppy. it's a lot easier to trust the nice, polite woman who helped you then the stilted, awkward woman desperate for your attention.

her reluctance to threaten you or force you to do anything doesn't extend to people you know, though. she can cook up any manner of crime that'd get them stuck fighting a duel with her or dealing with a trial that'd get them sent straight to the fortress.

of course, the first thing she'd do is make sure you're okay. she still cares about you (and she really doesn't mean to manipulate you, but really, don't you find it odd that everyone around you is so sketchy? you should be more careful about who you trust. you trust her though, dont you?).

clorinde is very much in for the long game, in the end. she'd only kidnap you as a last resort. she'd much prefer slowly getting closer to you and having you come with her of your own free will (even if it's because she's been planting ideas in your head that you really aren't safe all alone like this. all your friends turned out to be criminals, after all, and what if they start to blame you and try to hurt you? it's best that you stay with her for a while)

if you had a lover, though? oh, she's livid. she makes sure to pin an absolutely heinous crime on them– one that would involve you. after all, she could swoop in and play savior after killing that wretched pest. she did save you from their alleged plan, after all.

a bit awkward with physical affection to be honest, but she tries in her own way. she does what she can to make your life easier– protects you, makes sure you have a roof over your head and nice clothes, a bed and warm baths, expensive foods..anything you want, she would get you without even asking.

why would you ever want to leave? don't you know how dangerous it is outside? who would take care of you if not her? she provides you with all you need, and with only the best (please don't leave)

basically your personal guard dog. she won't bite if you just listen to her and stay put.

and she's just absolutely smitten. careful if you actually use her gifts, because she'll think you're reciprocating her affection whether you are or not. you'll be drowning in new clothes, always trying need food..and she'll always be hovering over your shoulder, watching.

[skitskatdacat63]

[haresvoid]

Anyways small redesign with my concept of Omeluums appearance using main game model plus its appearance on the MTG card, plus my headcanon about the "bioluminescence" illithids have // OKAY TO REBLOG

[syunkiss]

I might probably start smoking or drinking sooner or later. Or maybe both