#spaceships and vodka

[leonardoeatscarrots]

I drew some babygirls at my family reunion hehee

Some of my favs:

Character IDs under cut:

(Top to bottom, left to right)

Daniil Dankovsky (Pathologic)

Craig (mine)

Artemy Burakh (Pathologic)

Viktor (Arkane)

Peter Stamatin (Pathologic)

Percival-Taylor (The Peculiar Compendium of Victor Van Wolfe - Webtoons)

Bad Grief (Pathologic)

Mercutio Finch (The Peculiar Compendium of Victor Van Wolfe - Webtoons)

Orru (King of Crows Tapas/Webtoons)

Laios Touden (Dungeon Meshi)

Chilchuck Tims (Dungeon Meshi)

Felix Yusupov (Karamora)

Ford Pines (Gravity Falls)

Fiddleford McGucket (Gravity Falls)

Harvey (Stardew Valley)

Senshi (Dungeon Meshi)

[leonardoeatscarrots]

Craig is getting absolutely hammered at the broken heart

He's definitely catching plague tbh but I think he'll survive

The last character you drew/wrote about is now stuck in the last game you played. How screwed are they?

[cogumellow]

if a cherry vodka shop looked like a 70s sci-fi spaceship // kraków, poland // april 2024 // ©

[captaindanvers89]

Why Carol and Yelena would be best friends after Yelena expresses her displeasure about Kate joining the Avengers…

1. Yelena loves her alcohol especially vodka and Carol cannot get drunk.

2. They were both held captive and brainwashed

3. They both lost someone close to them

4. They would do anything to protect those they love.

Imagine a possible convo between them:

Yelena: I do not like Kate Bishop with the baby Avengers. She jumped off a building again and without a proper safety harness. At least when I threw off her the building, she was attached to one.

Carol: at least she had a harness on, Kamala didn’t. This has to be karma because Maria said I gave her a lot of grief for something like this before the accident

Yelena: Well, at least you have powers to punch your way through a spaceship now. I once jammed a bo staff into a helicopter engine and when it exploded, it launched me from the floating platform to the ground but luckily, Natasha managed to save me

Carol: …

Yelena: Yeah, this is karma

[lariskapargitay]

So I’m on tumblr and there was a post about the Doctor and ginger like the actual food not the hair color. And I was very confuzzled bc I’m like ‘why is ginger and doctor who a thing?’ So I googled it, and apparently ginger gets Timelords absolutely sloshed.

I then go back yo Tumblr and search for more ginger doctor content bc that to me is hilarious and I guess I missed it in the show but I found out 13 carries around *AN ENTIRE BAG OF GINGER CANDIES*!

Like she just has the equivalent of this on her person?! What the actual fuck, you little alcoholic?!

Also the fact that it’s never really brought up that 13 is essentially a functioning alcoholic (while piloting a whole ass spaceship mind you) is part of my biggest issues with her series overall. There was SOOOO many good ideas buried in mehh writing. Seeing her essentially becoming an alcoholic could have been amazing, like maybe Graham was sober and could have spotted it and talked to her about it especially after she crashed the TARDIS and puts them in danger but we just get a line of ‘oh shit, she’s basically carrying a flask of vodka’ and then nada.

The Master stealing her body could have been AMAZING, perfect chance for a body swap episode, Jodi would have fucking KILLED it and omg Yaz struggling with the fact the Master looks and sounds like her Doctor and is a LOT more touchy-feely than the Doctor? I would have died. But nope, just put him in her clothes and call it a day.

The Doctor being in prison for thirty YEARS to the point she started talking to herself? Amazing! Fantastic, we love that idea! Surely that must have affected her, given her a bit of PTSD, made her question her sanity a bit? Oh she just apologizes for some reason and then it’s never brought up ever again and we only spend 3 minutes with her in prison before she’s rescued? Got it.

An alien that takes the form of something you want to protect and the Doctor doesn’t see any past companion or Yaz, just a random child? Like it irks me, bc the amazing ideas are there, but nothing happens with them.

[leonardoeatscarrots]

I've got two comics ongoing right now

Spaceships and Vodka - an anachronistic sci-fi following a team of monster hunters living in the slums of space

And

Gentle Hands - a World War One period piece following an injured soldier in a nursing home for shellshock patients

Both series are about being queer and disabled and are based on my own personal experiences in both of those communities. Spaceships and Vodka follows a broader cast and is more of and action/thriller, while Gentle Hands is almost exclusively a drama and romance.

The links above are for tapas, but my comics are also available on webtoons.

As for me, I've been having a really hard time as a creator. I'm under a lot of financial stress and am simultaneously trying to handle numerous medical and mental health crises. Your support as viewers is invaluable to me and helps me keep going on. 🙏

I am being so serious when I say: if you have the financial and time privilege to get a group of friends together and make an indie project, PLEASE do. Indie games, indie animations, indie comics etc etc

the art industries are kind of in the shitter. It’s not so much because of AI (though that doesn’t help) but because studios just aren’t hiring people and funding projects anymore. People who’ve been in the industry for decades are finding themselves struggling, and once you have a mortgage or kids it’s harder to do something as risky as making something on your own.

completing projects is hard. it takes a lot of time and effort, and most people can’t afford it. so if you CAN afford to make art, even at the risk of no financial gain, I strongly encourage you to be as resilient as you can. We’re at a point where these industries are not going to turn around by themselves, and waiting for jobs to open up again in order to get experience and portfolio work might not be realistic.

people have been making art and telling stories longgggg before we were getting paid for it, and people aren’t going to stop just because no one has hired them to do so.

for everyone else: support indie artists when you can!!!! That person who made that cool indie game or youtube animation or webcomic might be doing this full time! your support might be the only reason they’re able to keep doing it.

and if you have already started an indie project: you’re so brave and I’m very proud of you!!! in fact, drop a link to it in the reblogs if you want! 👇

[leonardoeatscarrots]

Did a little style study today

Best way to support me and my art is to like and reblog!

[spaceshipsandvodka]

Heyo I got in a car accident. So after this month my comic is gonna be on hiatus as I recover and rebuild my buffer.

The fanart contest is still up, in case you were concerned. Our discord server is also full of some awesome people in case you're looking for somewhere to interact.

[pixeldistractions]

She waited in the roadside dust while he rolled down the shutters on his stand. Then she followed him next door to a small trailer park. His lot was the wildest in the place, strung up with camp lights and loud as spring break. 

“Clayton Dodd,” he said. “Birth name. You’re now one of only a few who know it. I don’t normally share, but you have pretty eyes. Everyone else calls me Agent 51.”

“Wait, though,” she said. “Are you even old enough for vodka?” 

“I just turned twenty-one,” he said. “I’m a man.” 

She laughed. “Aw, honey, you’re not a man. Soon maybe, but not yet.”

They got to talking about aliens first. He owned a piece of crashed spaceship from the war—the real deal, not that made-in-China garbage he sold in his shop. He had files about leaked alien correspondence dating back to 2006. They talked about cryptids and crypto and the dark web. They talked about all the ways all the branches of the government were lying to them. 

“Dude, I know they’re lying to us,” Ingrid said. “You gotta let it roll sometimes though, or else what’s the point? Being all tense all the time about the powers that be? There’s a different kind of power in here.” She pointed with each of her fingers to her head. “Because what’s in there, they can’t have.”

“Hell yeah,” he said. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too, my dude. I’m gonna start a commune someday. It’s gonna be so chill, people will wonder how they ever lived differently. Full of artists and philosophers and poets and weed. Would you join it?”

He shrugged. “If it’s off-grid, I will. I’m doing a leave-no-trace thing, but document style.”

“I respect that,” she said. 

They hit it off. He had wild ideas, and she was totally into it. He also showered her with a boyish adoration that she hadn’t sought in a man before, and now she wondered why not. She found it interesting being on the other side of the chase for once. 

“When you get to California, can I come out and see you?” he asked.  

“Man, you go where the wind takes you,” she said. “I don’t own California.”

She gave him her number and they said goodnight, knowing somehow, for certain, this wouldn’t be the last she saw of Clayton Dodd. 

— from “boxes and squares #2: this is not that story again” (6/10)

Next ->

[leonardoeatscarrots]

I knew a guy who was super into sci-fi, and so we started talking about our world building with each other. I was telling him about my universe (which is still a dystopia, actually) but when I got to the part about my disabled characters he turned around and said "Well in MY utopia people aren't disabled."

Some people genuinely believe that disabled people have no place in a perfect society. Hell! If you look at most sci-fis that do have disabled people you'll see that they're usually built around "fixing" them, and not around accommodating for the person.

my utopia has disability in it. my utopia includes free healthcare and no-questions welfare and state-funded carers. my utopia includes building requirements that centre disabled bodies — ramps and lifts and dimmer switches and braille signs. my utopia has disability in it. because without disability, it’s not much of a utopia at all

[etirabys]

Not that I ever thought I was generation ship material, but I should never get on a spaceship – I'm 5 days into what I think is an extremely nice cruise ship and I've been mildly depressed every day. The only thing that brings me joy is reading the Wikipedia list of top level domains and thinking of potential blog name puns

Some favorites:

.kim – target market is "Kim (Korean surname)".

.ink – for tattoos but limitations aren't enforced, can come up with puns like theweakl.ink or whatnot

.irish (vampirish?

.net – has the benefit of sounding normal, can be pressed into service like radiantpla.net

.men – target market: "Men".

.boo and .ooo

.quebec, only funny in the trend drawn so far – geographic/ethnic entities that get their own TLD are Quebec, Latin America, the Irish, and Koreans named Kim.

.red – "target market: those who like the color red". Lots of words here. underenginee.red

.vodka – I just like this one

[silverjetsystm]

🍸🍸+🍸+🍸+ has your muse ever wished for anything? what would they wish for if wishes came true? { from the 'muse answers while drunk meme.' when the muse asking is clearly sober. }

The above plus the below because it all came together.

54: Is cheating ever okay? and 55: Are you mean? { from the 70 horrible questions meme } 💭 + tuna fish salad { for a random headcanon }

Instead of skulking around Steven's new place, high above memories and shadows, he holes up in Ben's spaceship. Boots by the door, lest he track grime in or scuff furniture. Here, he doesn't have to stare down the white sheet covered statue of Khonshu, lungs expanding through his nose, exhaling out his mouth. He's himself today? Tonight? in borrowed worn in jeans, Olive M65 field jacket recognized as his own over the arm of the couch.

Spector as himself, sprawled out with a bottle of cheap vodka clutched in his hands. Ben, clear eyed interrogator. Remains of a tuna salad on rye Jake helpfully made two days ago (so says the scrawl vs Steven's phone) between them. Cold vodka down the hatch, oiling his words.

"Doesn't everyone?" Wishes by the cartridge, loaded into the magazine. "'I wish I was someone else, I wish I was stronger, I wish I was normal.'" What is wanting if not wishing. I don't want to die. Hurts. I -- I want to live. Anyone feeling the slip-slide of guts wants to live.

"Bet…bet you wished for something. Wish people listened to your songs. Fame. Whatever goes on in there. Granted wishes don't." Words slosh around. "They they don't. There's always a catch. 'Man plans, G-d laughs.'"

Cheating.

Pink tongue licks pink lips. "Why, you got plans?" Were they even in a relationship? He rolls, just a little, onto his side, legs draped on the floor. Heavyweight black cotton t-shirt rides up, the glimpse of . She used to joke that she cheated on him with the others and vis versa. The fantasy of it all. "Cheating's. No. It's not cheating if everyone knows and accepts it. S not the same."

[thecultproblem]

Heavens Gate

Founders:

Marshall Herff Applewhite, known as “Do” (formerly “Bo”)

Bonnie Lu Nettles, known as “Ti” (formerly “Peep”)

Later passed in 1975 from natural causes

Bright, captivating blue eyes, extremely persuasive

Members claimed they saw visions of a UFO when Bo touched their shoulders

What they preached:

Stated they were Christ-like extraterrestrials who had taken human form

introduced the idea that there was a spaceship that would bring true believers away toward a higher level of existence (as early as 1975)

Drew ideas from Biblical prophecy as well as from science

Promised eternal life in “literal heavens” to followers that were 100% devoted to overcoming their attachment to human levels  

Who they attracted:

“They saw themselves as martyrs, as part of the tradition of Masada, Christian saints, self-flagellating monks, and other true believers who put faith and a sense of mission before self-preservation and self-interest” (Robinson)

As a group:

lived together in a large house in Rancho Santa Fe, San Diego (a fairly wealthy neighborhood)

Planned to leave the planet and their bodies in order to chase a more evolved life

Members were discovered dead on March 26, 1997

People age 26-72, 18 men and 21 women

“Several days before, they had ingested applesauce or pudding laced with barbiturates and a shot of vodka, and they had submitted to suffocation from plastic bags placed over their heads. They were identically dressed in unisex black shirts, pants, and Nikes, and had purple shrouds placed across their faces. Many of the men had been castrated.”

Why:

wanted to leave “earthly containers” as they were frustrated with them

Intention of joining aliens that would guide them to the Next Level with a new life

Aliens were residing in the starship that traveled behind the Hale-Bopp comet

[leonardoeatscarrots]

I don't normally like to add onto these posts because I'm insecure that my ideas are dumb or not worth sharing 🙃 (that and I'm awkward about self promo rip), but uhhh here I am.

Anyway, let it be known that you can still have a magically healed character AND they can still have struggles with their disability. To clarify: none of the prior posts have said or implied the contrary, but I feel it could use some more elaborating.

I've always had a very complicated relationship with my disability, but I have found so much love, support, and joy identifying as disabled. However, I have had numerous encounters with people who have tried to "heal" me or "fix" me or force me into something "for my benefit" that either didn't work or made matters worse in some way. And I am sure this is the case for many more disabled people out there. For this reason, being "healed" was something I came to fear for a very long time. Because of this I also never really liked stories where the character gets cured. I can completely understand why a disabled person couldn't relate to or enjoy that sort of fantasy, because that person was literally me.

But that doesn't mean I didn't WANT to get rid of what ails me. I definitely did. And I definitely wrote about it.

One of the main cast members of my comic is a disabled man (woman? Still figuring it out) who got healed from his "shit's fucked" syndrome via magical means. But magic in this universe isn't perfect... so he still uses a cane, he still has trouble eating, he still has to take all his silly little supplements, he still has a drug addiction, he's still stigmatized, he's still disabled. But comparatively, it's better than his prior condition.

And that's just fine. It's my right to be able to curate a story that caters comfortably to me. Everyone has different histories and reasons for feeling the way they do.

Listen. I'm disabled. I broke my spine in an accident that was technically my brother's negligent fault when I was nine.

I live in constant pain. The most effective pain medication for me is cbd cream, and it works straight up miracles as far as I'm concerned. But even released from my constant (chronic) pain, I have limitations.

If I write a story about someone with an agonizing disability who gets their shattered body repaired by benevolent mystical/alien/whatever forces, it's not me removing representation. It's my fantasy of being able to walk across my house without hurting or losing feeling in one leg because of how pressure distributes in the small of my back.

I get to have that. I should get to have that without being shamed for it.

[jackk-harkness]

Wgen i got back from the a.lien bar (its like a normal bar but themed to look like a spaceship and instead osf scotch and vodka they ony sell fizzy shitdrinks themed like "The Grey Saucer" and they dhonestly dont even get you drunk but its the closest ill ever feel to home) Ianto was waiting arms folded hair rollers in asking wehree id been Like id ever cheat on him The lack of trust in this relationship is hoesty so disheartening but i love him id do anything 4 him even when he whacks me with the carpetbeater

[authorsrus]

I didn't think it through.

I was visiting Yale for a little bit and I realized how drunk I was. I was spinning. The hotel room was nice but, in front of the ancient archives building, I had had my fill. 3 shots of vodka over crushed ice and an Irish coffee, after a rack of Lamb dish. It's auto.

Look at that. Why is there a spaceship in the courtyard, the walk-in lobby outside of the library. Do these idiots think it's the Congress? It's not. It just has very expensive books and artwork that quickly becomes nothing if they fuck it.

I pulled my knife. I turned to check my superbike and walked to the targeting.

The cut. The silence of death. The 30 Unitarian fools who wanted to stop government by attacking a library at a private school. The first university no less.

It is insane to argue with the fellas who created the notion, imposed draconic will through the testament, and died hanging from the good ole boy trees in front of the marble mausoleum. It's the building with marble stone windows, no glass. The interpretation I leave to you.

If someone would be kind enough to remove their bodies and their souls, Yale can reopen. You didn't know, it's traditional - and incumbent students know what I did already. It's every generation you've enjoyed.

Wicked lemon out.