new writing practice for men: write an equivalent of green day’s “she’s a rebel” for your female love interests. i should be in complete and total love with her w/o one single word devoted to her physical appearance. the bar is set.
here’s a process video of sanctus! she was drawn in procreate, and the final color adjustments were made in photoshop. if this is your jam, I try to post procreate recordings like this one somewhat regularly on my side twitter.
whereismywizardhat said: Corran searching for miniatures on the space internet for his campaign
“Let me get this straight,” Keith said. “You bought bootleg Voltron Paladins miniatures off the galactic net because…?”
“There’s none of your boot-legs if there’s no official merchandise!” Coran protested. “Unless we wanted to…?”
“No. We’re not merchandizing Voltron, and we’re certainly not starting out with mini-figs.”
“But look at your cute widdle face!” Lance piped in. He was holding the Keith figuring aloft, wiggling it next to its real-life counterpart. “It’s almost as grumpy as the real thing. Who did the sculpts on these?”
“A Valdorian artist from the Seventh Sector! He’s got an eye for a good grump-face,” Coran said.
Keith made sure to swivel his grump-face at both of them.
“Alright,” he said. “They can stay. Mostly because I saw the /pricetag/ on those things. But one body pillow and it’s all being thrown out the airlock.”
“Certainly,” Coran confirmed. “Absolutely-certainly. Now, who wants to take a stint on the old gameboard, hm?”
You’re not very good at making your bed but you do it, for him, for your new life together, for the fact that it’s no longer a twin mattress which means you’re an adult, now, despite how little you feel its influence.
There’s dinosaur sheets on the bed. Neither of you have been excellent at adulthood, but you try. With each unwieldy elastic corner slipping beneath foam after a generous tug, you try.
Jake is making breakfast because he’s an adult now too and being an adult means making breakfast for your partner who is making the bed even if the yolk breaks and the bottom sizzles to the consistency of elastic that stubbornly refuses to slide over the last foam corner.
And then you’re standing there, in the kitchen, an adult. And he’s standing there, with a paper plate, and two waffles damp from an impromptu toaster defrost and an egg marbled white and gold and a bright smile.
“Good morning,” he says, because you woke up to the sound of forming-elastic and neither of you had a chance to say hello until this moment.
“Morning,” you return, and press a short kiss to the corner of his mouth, even if that’s what kids do. Shy ones, that are bad at cooking and bed-making. Sweet ones, that never lost their way, or maybe sweet ones that did and are attempting to get back to when toaster waffles tasted good. Immortal ones, that still feel too young.
I’ve been playing too much Helix Waltz since it launched and I’m so ensnared with the way strikes the perfect balance between what information they give you about a character and what you have to deduce for yourself.
Like, Gonzalo will ask “how do you feel about the idea nobles and commoners intermarrying?” And Gonzalo has never outright said “hey I think intermarrying of classes is cool beans, yo,” but you DO know that Gonzalo is gay and the sole heir to his family and is expected to marry a noble lady against his wishes (even if he never tells you that!! You can put the pieces together yourself!!). So you can succinctly choose the “cool beans” option and watch his dumb gay face light up and then he’ll promptly invite you to tea and I love it! I love when a game has narrative puzzles that don’t treat me like a dumbass. I love when I can connect the narrative dots.
the pacific northwest is THE place to be. the forests with no end. small towns so quiet at night that you can hear the distant rivers. mountains everywhere you look. the constant calming smell of rain and damp earth. there’s something so inherently beautiful and good about it.
me wearing red panties on my period: fear her, for she has turned her back on the divine matron, sent here to relish in all the scarlet pleasures of the earth, barren and yet filled, sinful and yet content,
A couple years back I went and saw The 1975 and their lead singer took a 10 minute smoke break on stage and everyone in the audience just kind of… stood there. And stared at him. And anyway I’m pretty sure I can trace my declining interest in alt music to that very moment.
I’m full of maximum flu atm and my roommate made me jasmine tea and potstickers and brought me cold medicine and I’m fueled with the power of friendship and his asian mother’s eccentric but good-hearted health remedies
