#this took me ages oops

[crocodiller]

.....Acceptance? First - Previous - Next

[kitmdrawsthings]

who up dungeoning they meshi

(click for better quality. tumblr hates to see a high definition png winning)

[yayforocs]

Episode 23 - Castle Larders

[trashmallcw]

so i finally got my brother to start playing outer wilds (and stream it to me)

[artifeast]

HUGS!!!!!

[somethingintheforest]

Allow me to present Mr. Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson

[damnation-if]

hey!! can i ask for a color palatte description for the ro's? like what their hair/eye colors are?

hope you're having a good week 💙💙💙

Hi!

I spent a long time putting together a graphic for this before I realised that you asked for just a description haha... oops. well. here is the graphic anyway XD

If you're looking for a link to the page with more general descriptions, there are some on the RO's page.

Very sorry for the delay in replying! My life is. hectic. smdnfgbsfgf

[cicide76536]

"We are whole."

[chatonyant]

One more, im in a mood

look i need people to draw plum blossom sword saint as an old man oK?? OK??? HE IS 80 SMTH CAN HE HAVE WRINKLES PLEASE

[misscrawfords]

Tagged by @jedbartlet to add 10 gifts from my 10 favourite shows and then tag some people. Thank you!

Tagging: @whenthegoldrays @itspileofgoodthings @autumnrose11 @buildarocketboys

The Hour

Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries

Chuck

Vincenzo

Doctor Who

Downton Abbey

Alchemy of Souls

Alias

Death in Paradise

New Girl

[amazing-spiderling]

For the "random get-to-know-me ask game" camellia ⇢ what were you like when you were younger? do you think you’ve changed a lot?

<3

To answer this backwards, I think I've changed in a lot of superficial ways. That is to say, I think there are a lot of my core beliefs and tenets that still exist, and I appreciate a lot of the same things and dislike a lot of the same things I did as when I was younger, but now that i'm mumblemumble years old, I have the freedom to enjoy them and express myself without fear or embarrassment. It's liberating!

As a child, I have distinct memories of being a bit of an outsider, but it didn't really bother me. I recall being pretty young, maybe 6 or so- and hearing (in books or cartoons etc) that we should always be ourselves and not worry about what other people think, and it's okay to be weird, and just sort of accepted that at face value and never looked back. So it didn't really bother me if I wasn't friends with the cool, pretty, popular kids in class because I absolutely believed that if someone didn't like you then their opinion shouldn't matter to you.

I do remember having little tolerance for people I thought were not being genuine, I remember being at summer camp rolling my eyes at other kids there who were "acting" like they were so cool and weird and different, but knowing that they couldn't tolerate anyone there that was "too far" outside the norm, and the idea that you could only go "so far" in "weirdness" before getting bullied or ostracized only further cemented my ideas on the matter.

I think this has served me well into adulthood. I'm still into a lot of the same hobbies, some in a broad sense (anime) other's in a more specific one (I was digging around a small neighborhood comic shop and found a discounted copy of the first comic my friend ever gave to me to read and immediately had to buy it because the laser focused joy was so strong). It helped me weather skepticism from my family, coworkers, etc and to find "my people". I can't say I have always been (or am even now) a flawless judge of character, but at the very least I have a good idea if another person and I are going to "click" from early on- and I think it saves a lot of time.

This doesn't mean that I spend most of my time judging other people, mind you- it just means that for most of my life, I've been able to take a look at a situation and see what parts (and parties) really matter and move on.

[legendofthe3divas]

finally completed one of my lm bedroom walls

[countthelions]

I FOUND A HORSE !!!!

[freedcmscall]

Plotted Starter — Blood Magic | @triickst

Anders knew how drained he was, could feel that he had next to no mana reserves left in that internal pool from which he could pull. Fumbling hands pulled another bottle from his pack, a muttered curse escaping his lips as he realised it was the last one. No time to worry over that at the moment, he would be fine. His companions, however, he was not so sure of. Resolved, he pulled the cork of the lyrium potion out with his teeth and knocked back its contents, grimacing as ever at the somehow bitter yet cloying taste the liquid brought to his tongue.

It was supposed to have been another routine mission. Really, he should have known. Anders had known Lucian for long enough to know that any time something was supposed to be normal or routine, it ended up anything but. That was probably why he'd come along to begin with. It had been fine, destroying a cave full of slavers, until the point that it was very much not fine and they were considerably more outnumbered than they needed to be. Finally, though, everyone could catch their breath.

He'd tended to their other two companions, by some stroke of luck or act of the Maker only inflicted with largely superficial wounds. And then he'd gotten to Lucian, and dammit he should have started with him. Anders shoved down the panic threatening to bubble up in his throat and replaced it with stubbornness, pulling at every last ounce of mana and pleading with any whisp that would listen from the Fade to help him in healing this man. He couldn't lose him.

Soon, too soon, dangerously quickly, Anders was left panting and useless. He pulled at the Fade, begged it, pleaded, even sent a quick prayer to the Maker, and nothing. Lucian was still hurt, still too hurt. He couldn't heal all of the wounds - his mind helpfully supplying a moment later that it was likely because some were too imbued with blood magic. It was too dangerous of a combination, a large attack and Lucian's dependence on blood magic. This was the danger of blood magic, not a lack of control, not consorting with demons, but losing someone dear to him. For a moment, Anders' mind flashed back to Karl, dead by his hand, dead because his actions could do nothing to save him — no, not again. The healer was rendered a desperate man, and desperation could be a dangerous thing.

He took a deep, steadying breath, steeling himself. He had to do this. "You'll be okay," he whispered, not sure if it was to himself or to Lucian, whom Anders knew likely couldn't even hear him at this point. He was too close to dying, Anders was too close to losing him. He glanced about, ensuring no one else was watching him, reassured by the fact that it looked like the other two were conversing and sufficiently distracted, recovering energy from the mess that they had been caught in.

He blindly fumbled for the small knife he kept strapped to his belt, refusing to tear his eyes from Lucian in case his condition worsened even in the brief moments that such a movement took, moments that felt as though they were being pulled through molasses instead of the air through which time flowed naturally. Quickly, Anders unwound the gauze tied about his wrist and pulled off the leather cuff on his right arm. Taking no care, he tore apart the poorly stitched together old tear in the fabric of his coat - he could sew it back together, as he had done countless times. It was fabric, it didn't feel. It wouldn't die.

Left hand shaking and head pounding from the severe lack of mana as well as what he could feel was clearly Justice's disapproval, he brought the knife to the flesh of his wrist. His palm would have been easier - more pain but less fabric to undo, but likewise would have been too obvious. He couldn't risk anyone knowing what he had done. Before he could talk himself out of it, Anders had sliced open his flesh, floundering for a moment before he managed to get the blood to behave as close of an approximation of his normal healing as he could get.

There was a moment, too long of a moment, too tense of a moment, where he feared it hadn't worked. He had never studied blood magic, it was against everything he believed in (except for Lucian, he was okay to use blood magic except for when it left him bleeding out and dying in front of Anders). What if he failed anyway? His fears didn't last long, and at long last, the healing appeared to take. He was pale, sweaty, and exhausted, but the worst of the damage done to Lucian had been repaired and it was clear enough to Anders, given his profession as a healer, that he would live.

Before he himself could lose consciousness from the exhaustion, the mana loss, and the blood loss combined, and before Lucian could regain his own consciousness fully enough, Anders hastily re-wrapped his gauze about his wrist, messier than it had been but hopefully enough to hold. He neglected the leather cuff, wiped his small blade on his tunic, and tucked it back away on his belt.

"Come on, wake up," he encouraged, voice soft from care and wavering from all-encompassing tiredness. He would not rest until he saw Lucian stir. In Anders' state, he didn't notice that the blood was beginning to stain his sleeve. It wasn't even a passing thought or glance - he wasn't important at that moment.

[altfire-archive]

.

[ursidaepilled]

been watching sailor moon and i will say that i love usagi and rei and hate mamoru