#y’all recovering???

[ppaink]

I could always rely on you.

[thatgecko0606]

Some Stardew fans when they marry the recovering alcoholic just to find out, he’s actually recovering alcoholic 

[its-cosmerely-an-obsesh-wound]

Adolin’s physical realm checklist upon returning from Shadesmar:

✅ hug bridgeboy long and slow

✅nap

✅discover showers

✅gush about fancy soaps

✅ pummel off flesh with Highstorm-level shower pressure

✅have any remaining skin incinerated away by Shallan’s shower temperature preference (which basically resembles the Surge of Division employed by Dustbringers)

✅repress feelings about father

✅shower sex

✅postcoital snuggle with Gallant

✅ attend meeting and decide to teach the emperor of Azir the sword

✅ avoid any potential positive or productive interaction with father (brood, let hatred fester, and invite the beginnings of self-loathing instead)

[little-pondhead]

Rick Astley Is Haunting You

-

Someone bets Tucker he can’t hack into a hero’s patrol playlist and sneak a Rick Roll in there. He does, easily, and finds that said hero has horrible music taste.

So he sets out to hijack every hero’s music playlist he can find and rate their music tastes on a chart, sometimes adding in his own music or joke songs he thinks they’d like. It only gets back to the heroes when Tucker posts a video with his rankings. Up until then, they thought it was another hero or new villain messing with them. Not a civilian??

(Nightwing’s playlist is sixth on the list, and he’s furious about it.)

[phleb0tomist]

did you grow up with chronic pain? did you get called sensitive as a kid/teen with chronic pain? were you bombarded with wisecracks from adults who said you won’t know real pain till you get older? join my initiative to ban this vile practice from planet earth!

i had chronic pain as a kid. (still do now.) my physical ability was best in childhood, like, i could do cartwheels then, meanwhile i can’t walk now. but istg my pain was regularly at this very same level back in childhood. ok i have extra symptoms now which make things harder, but if we’re JUST focusing on the pain part, it’s often the same. this blows my mind. the level of pain that i have now, bedbound and with opioids and a million accommodations, is the same level i had when i was 10 when i was just walkin around all day, asking my teachers nicely if i could sit indoors during playtime. (they said no btw.) back then, every time i tried to tell people how much everything hurt, adults said i was “sensitive”.

was i sensitive? is that what i was?

I think i must have been insanely powerful as a 10 year old to be out and about with a level of pain that makes me nonfunctional as an adult. I wonder how many kids and teens are in that amount of pain right now and are being dismissed because of their age. i think the way adults treat children with long term pain is evil. “you don’t know real pain! it only gets worse as you get older! wait till you grow up!!”

okay i waited.

i’m closer to 30 now than i am to 10, and the more hindsight i gain, the more i realise what a horrific violation it is that my pain was ignored when i was the most vulnerable to the trauma of unmanaged pain and had the least frame of reference for what level of agony is normal to experience while climbing stairs

[cappycodeart]

that's one temperamental hard drive u got there prismo buddy idk maybe you should try saving ur universe to an ssd next time

[mfshipbracket]

[ratsnu]

Surprise your nemesis by kissing them mid-argument this Valentine’s Day !

[robiinurheart33]

Haha wouldn’t it be so weird if when soap was taken and brainwashed he was constantly being compared to this soldier named “ghost” haha

Anyways explicit descriptions of psychological torture and violent intrusive thoughts under the cut

He would be beaten and berated constantly. why wasn’t he stronger than ghost, why wasn’t he faster, more skilled, better, stealthier, healthier.

Ghost could’ve done better in worse conditions.

Ghost has done better in worse conditions.

Why was soap not better even after all this?

It drove him up the wall, the way he would wonder who he was, seething and bleeding by the lip. After all that he’s gone though, all that he’s endured, everything.

Why wasn’t be better? Why can he never, ever be better?

They drove his sanity to the ground, spat and kicked at it until there was nothing but a shell of who he once was, and rebuilt it to fit their ideals. Soap couldn’t remember who he was before this, before the experiments. He couldn’t think, do, say anything without being ordered to do so by someone else.

Some days, soap would pull on the thin stripe down his scalp, eager to find some semblance of control over himself, even if it were pain. He would always get punished.

“It was the only thing he can and will recognise him by.”

“Ghost likes that on you.”

It made him hate the Mohawk even more.

He hates Ghost. He was sick of it. He was done waiting. He was done being compared to. He was done with being second to him. He wanted to pull him apart limb from limb, feel the hot blood spill over his teeth and he rips his throat apart, hear the sickening crunch of his neck being twisted, feel the smooth muscle of his skin ripple and tremble in fear of the one that he was supposedly supposed to be stronger than. Soap will never, ever get anything else in his life but the pure, white-hot rage of revenge. He maybe thinks this had lingered on since he was younger, before everything. It felt like an old friend, more so than his other emotions.

His first mission.

He will be better. He will be better. He will be the best. He will be good. This might be his only shot. This is. He will be the best. He will succeed. He will not fail. He will not fail. He will not fail. He will not fail. He will not fail. He will not fail.

He runs into ghost.

At first, he didn’t know who he was. Soap was in a room with a few others, guns up and masks drawn, ready to shoot anyone who tries to come into the room. They had been infiltrated, and soap wasn’t told more than that. He didn’t really need to know more. Shoot the hostiles, keep people safe. Suddenly, bullets start to rain from outside the door, and soon enough, more and more bodies start hitting the floor. Soap does not panic. He hides behind a bookshelf, waiting.

A big ass motherfucker in a skull mask walks into the room and it looks like the shadows are warping to his presence. Soap does not panic. He reaches for the knife strapped to his thigh, flicking it up and holding it ready. He waits patiently until he stalks near the bookshelf, tightening his grip on the knife. They make eye contact, and through the skull mask stained with blood, he can see jet black eyes staring at him in shock. Death incarnate. Soap does not panic.

“Joh-”

Soap quickly slips out of his hiding spot, wrapping a forearm over his neck and attempting to jab the knife right into his socket. He feels a hand grip tightly onto his forearm, and he goes weightless. All the air escapes his lungs as his back slams against the floor, his head spinning. He screams at himself to get up, fight, be better, before he hears the familiar crackle of a radio.

“Ghost, how copy?”

Ghost.

This is Ghost.

Ghost just fucking flipped him.

Soap does not panic. He does not panic but he feels a chill go down his spine as he sees red, scrambling back up onto his feet. The adrenaline starts to kick in now, and he lunges at him, ripping the radio off his vest and slamming it on the floor. He’s not completely sure why he did that, but in all fairness soap feels like he’s losing his goddamn mind, if his captors haven’t done so already. He punches Ghost, wincing slightly as his knuckle hit the cheekbone corner of his stupid skull mask. Soap starts to reach for his gun before Ghost punches back, hitting the mask clean off his face, pushing his back to the floor, one hand on his wrists. Soap starts to get really agitated now. After everything that he’s gone through, he’s still not good enough to beat ghost. He still hasn’t improved. He hasn’t gone anywhere. He makes eye contact with Ghost and is slightly taken aback when he is reflected with an equally crazed stare.

“Johnny.”

What the fuck?

Soap doesn’t say anything. Ghost’s eyes are brown, not black. Why hasn’t be killed him yet? Why isn’t Soap struggling? Ghost has blonde eyelashes.

“Where have you been?” To soap’s absolute horror, those brown eyes start to become glossy. He flinches back as if he’s been hit, and grits his teeth. No shit, he’s been here the whole time, where else is he supposed to be?

Soap surges forward and headbutts him in hopes of him letting go. He doesn’t, and it makes soap all the more dizzier, more frustrated. Why isn’t he fucking dead already? He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to get his mind right.

“Johnny. Johnny.” Can he just shut the fuck up? It’s getting increasingly hard to concentrate for some reason. Shit. He feels overly exposed without the mask, feeling his body temperature rising steadily.

“Stop calling me that!” he growls out, twisting out of his grip and punching his across the face. The twisted skull mask looks almost comical out of place, but he can still see those eyes. Ghost’s hand comes to cup his cheek, and soap flinches back. His eyes look like Soap just mauled his puppy right in front of him. It makes him freeze in place, head awkwardly hovering between the floor and Ghost.

Images of blood spilling and needles, dirt and coffins fill his head, the sound of a neck snapping, gagging, screams and whimpers. Hands on him, eyes on him, never letting go. Stay. Soap snaps back into place, grabbing the mask and twisting it up, covering Ghost’s eyes. He quickly gets his other hand free and pushes ghost off him, sprinting out of the room.

“Wait-!” Is all he hears before flying down the corridor, back to safety, back to where it’s familiar, where he always is, where he always will be.

Loyalty has always been Soap’s best trait.

[its-your-mind]

Beauregard Lionett walking into a fae’s hut and offering everything - her old family, her new family, her power, herself - to save her friend with a kid who needs his mom. Beau always knew this time with The Mighty Nein wasn’t going to be forever. Her friends have futures, goals, families to go back to… and this joy she’s found with them was never going to last. All she could have really hoped for in the end was for her family to find joy after her. Think about it…

And then, almost before she’s finished sharing what she’s planning to do… Caleb starts walking. He knows misery. His life is one of punishment, and suffering, and he’s not going to let this person who he has grown to love like a sister take this fall for Nott, his closest friend, the one who saved him from himself, and so he’ll just have to come up with something. He’s got hopes, dreams, even a past that could come back and…

Caduceus, too, starts walking. He can take a little misery. His whole family has already left him and his home is dying. All he’s ever wanted was to make a difference and to serve his goddess. Maybe this is why the Wildmother brought these people to him in the first place. He’s been looking for some way he could help Nott, and here it is on a silver platter. All it would cost is…

But Caleb and Caduceus are both stopped in their tracks as the door slams shut in front of them, and the last thing any of The Mighty Nein see is Yasha’s long hair and as it disappears into the witch’s hut.

You were saying you want misery. I have it in spades.

[lovereadandwrite]

he cooked ! he served !! HE ATE😮‍💨🥵

[ominis-gaunt-slytherin]

Ominis Gaunt by Pasta As Avatar

[threeawfulfruits]

My brain, stirring all my interests around like peeps in a chili pot:

[frodo-with-glasses]

COMMISSIONS OPEN!!

Heya! Wanna throw money at me to make me draw something?? Well, for just $20 an hour, now you can!

Read below for price estimates and FAQs, and if you’re interested, please email me at FigTreeIllustrationsLLC@gmail.com to get started!

PRICING INFO

Because I’m too lazy to come up with complicated price structures, I’ll just be charging a flat rate of $20/hour for any work I do on the art piece. The clock starts when I pick up the pencil or digital stylus and ends when I put it down.

This does mean that prices will vary, depending on how time-consuming each art piece is, but I can give you some rough estimates.

Upper Body Sketch: Approx. 30 min = $10 for one

It takes me about half an hour to draw a bust or upper body sketch. This time can be shortened if I’m already familiar with the character design, or lengthened if I’m drawing an unfamiliar character or doing some weird perspective stuff.

Every additional figure would probably take another half an hour, adding about $10 each.

Full-Body Sketch: Approx. 1 hour = $20 for one

Drawing an entire figure is a little harder than just drawing the upper body, so this one might take longer. Again, this time can be shortened or lengthened depending on my familiarity with the character, how complex the design is, and whether I’m doing any complicated posing or perspective.

Adding additional figures can take anywhere from 30 minutes to 1 hour, adding $10-$20 each.

Animals: Approx. 1.5 hrs = $30 for one

Animals are not my strong suit, though I have gotten better at drawing them over time! However, the extra time studying reference photos and trying to get the anatomy correct can stack up quickly, so you’ll want to be aware of that if you’re commissioning something with an animal involved.

Posters: Minumum 3 hrs = approx. $60

Posters take a little extra time—and usually some trial and error—to plan the layout in a dynamic way. They also take up an entire sketchbook page and tend to include multiple people and some extreme perspective to add visual appeal. You can expect a poster to take about three hours minimum to complete.

Multi-Panel Comics: Minimum 4 hrs a page = $80

Drawing a comic big enough to cover an entire sketchbook page can take me anywhere from 4 to 6 hours of work. If drawing a long-form comic, I will probably divide the work over several days. Brainstorming will happen on the first day, when I’ll plan out how many panels I’ll need for the comic, and then I’ll get in contact with you to tell you an estimated price before I proceed.

Digital Coloring: Minimum 1.5 hrs = add approx. $30

Coloring things digitally takes about double the time it would to sketch; I’ve noticed it takes around two hours to color a simple image, with another hour added for each figure involved. This first image took me about an hour and a half to outline and color, while the second took about five hours.

Add to Redbubble Shop: Subject to Redbubble Pricing

If your commissioned artwork is Lord of the Rings-related, I can put it into my Redbubble shop, where you can have it printed on stickers, t-shirts, journals, mugs, and lots of other products! I won’t charge any extra fee, but you will have to pay whatever price Redbubble asks. Full disclosure: I receive only 10% of the profit from Redbubble sales; the rest goes to the website to cover manufacturing and shipping costs.

FAQ

No NSFW

No nudity or sexual content

Canon ships only

Will draw gore/injuries

Will draw OCs (please provide references)

Will draw for other fandoms (please provide references)

The artist reserves the right to reject any commission without disclosing the reason

The artist will give price and progress updates over the course of the process

You, the commissioner, have the right to terminate the project at any time and for any reason

If the project is terminated halfway, you will be charged for the artist’s time, but the artist might give a discount for incomplete work

Payment will be calculated at the end of the project and rendered using PayPal

Once again, if you’re interested, please email me at FigTreeIllustrationsLLC@gmail.com!

[maesonc-artistic-adventures]

“Are you worth saving?”

[the-architect-of-ferrari]

A matched set 🥰🥰