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#I made this like really fast
xx-sketchy-xx · 7 months
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Hello neighbor-r, w-w-w-weeelllll ccccoome
stand still:
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doctorsiren · 2 months
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When Edgeworth shows up at the detention center in Farewell, My Turnabout…where is he located? Is he standing? If so, how? Perhaps he is sitting on the little table bit? Did he slide on over in front of Wright? These questions and more were all inquiries a couple of pals and I posed while playing through the case on Saturday.
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ecoamerica · 25 days
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youtube
Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
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dhmis-autism · 1 year
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DHMIS doodle pages that I managed to cut and paste together and color! I personally like them a lot haha.
2nd doodle page is sorta inspired by @mariaisshiki ‘s piggyback trio drawings.
 B/c it reminded me of the time I tried to carry my baby cousin on my back and I am SO short that even though I got her body off the ground,both her feet were still firmly on the floor. That memory was so horrific I had to project it onto the smallest one.
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beeduoo · 17 days
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wonderful
#there is a ranboo that goes withthis but i didn't like how he was looking imma restart from scratch tmrw😭😭#ctubbo#michael beloved#ctubbo fanart#Guys you have no idea what i went through today like it wa fucking crazy i need to share this#so i went to the mall after school right and im going home at like 8 on the train with my friend bc i was supposed to be picked up ay her#stop right but then im told to just go to my stop and take the bus and im like ok sure but the problem is my phone is on SEVEN PERCENT and w#hen i get to the stop my moms like u have money for the bus right and im like ueah and i check and i have NO MONEY#BUT I DIDNT TELL HER ANUTHING BC I DIDNT WANT HER TI GET MAD BC I KNEW SHE WOUDKNT WANT ME TO WALK ALL THE WAY HOME AT NIGHT (FOURTY BLOCKS#So im like ok im getting on the bus now my phone is on four percent i have to WALK HOME allll that way and there's this crazy ass upward hi#ll that's like ten blocks long ITS NOT EVEN THAT BAD but like my mom thinks im on the bus so im trying to speed walk as fast as i can and i#RAWDOGGED it too because MU PHONE WAS GOING TO IDE!!!!#I made it home at two percent U guys i was so proud of myself thank u for listening#IM SO MAD IT WOUKDVE BEEN OKAY IF I WASNT IN A RUSH And also if i had music uggghhh Whatever#I bought this really cute skirt at garage hold on let me find it#lexi pleated skort color Navy blue ITS SOOOO CUTE got some new leg warmers too yesss....#I NEED TO DOWNLOAD THE TRANSIT APP i woukdve been able to attach my apple pay and buy the stupid ticket if my phonewasnnt#too dead to do al that...#Guys always make sure u carry cash with yiu goodbye
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eggpriest · 2 months
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tired of cgi slander on this site
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robiinurheart33 · 7 days
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I’m SUCH a sucker for drunk calls/texts confessing their love and y’all know I gotta project it onto ghoap (buckle up guys its a long one I had to break it into two parts SORRY) pt. 2
Soap’s blood is pumping. He can feel it heat up in his cheeks in the form of a blush, giggles bubbling up in his throat and his mind loose enough to just sew together a semblance of a bad idea.
Deployment had been boring at first. Stuck at home with unending nervous energy, fingers twitching and aching for the solid feel of a gun, the rough texture of his vest, the adrenaline clapping him on the shoulder before shooting through his veins like a drug. It was so unendingly dull. It’s not like he had anyone waiting for him at his apartment in Glasgow, and their break time was too short to visit his Ma.
So why not invite a few buddies out to drink? No harm, no foul.
Well, that’s what he initially thought. A couple hours later of wheezing and pounding of the table, shoes sticking to the ground and the smell of booze wafting though the air, Soap could confidently say that he was wasted. He’s leaning heavily on his buddy, chum, pal, that he for the life of him cannot remember right now. He’s swaying from side to side, feeling unusually breathless as he mumbles what could be the song that’s playing right now. He’s not sure. He combs his fingers through his hair, scratching a bit anxiously at the nape of his neck. Soap’s not sure if he wants to cry or laugh or vomit right about now. Pretty sure that’s a sign to fuck off, pass out on his bed and deal with the rest tomorrow.
Soap pushes off his… friend? Wait, did he even come with him? And heads towards the general direction where the toilet is. Might as well not look like a homeless person before heading home, wouldn’t wanna scare anyone. His head is spinning, pounding, loud, loud, loud, and nowhere near done with its madness. Soap slams his hand on the wall beside the toilet door, squinting and hoping the door he’s reaching for is the actual door, not it’s double. He does, in fact, get the right door (small miracles), and pushes it open.
He fumbles with his zipper and exhales heavily as he relieves himself. The man beside him in the toilet exits with a sniffle and stumbles out, the music getting louder for a second before the door closes again. Soap leans heavily against the sink counter and washes his hands, placing his fingers together and splashing water onto his face. Soap drags his hands down before greyish-blue eyes look back at him with a piercing stare. He blinks, and re-evaluates again. His hair is flopping to one side, weighed down by sweat. His face is flushed and his skin glows slightly with a thin sheen of sweat, his freckles just shy of being seen under his rosy cheeks, eyebags evident through the haze. He looks down and- oh. It appears his attempt at splashing his face with water wasn’t as successful as he’d hoped, half of his shirt drenched in water. Soap tugs loosely at the corner of his sleeves, releasing the bundled up fabric at his pits. He frowns in discomfort as the sticky heat of his arms lay back down against his skin. He sighs once more, not really feeling like his lungs are filling with oxygen, turning around and laying his hip against the counter lazily before pulling out his phone. 0237. He swipes down on his home screen and pouts at the “no new notifications” tab. He unlocks his phone and swipes through his contacts, unsure of who to drunk text at this hour. Gaz is probably asleep by now, if anyone has a spotless sleeping schedule, it’d be him. Price would have his head on a platter if he texted him about anything non-military business. Laswell, no. Ghost?
Huh.
Ghost…could be someone he could text. Soap isn’t quite sure if he would be awake right now. Do ghosts even need sleep? He huffs at his little comment, tapping on their chat together. Do they have the kind of relationship where soap can dramatically drunk text Ghost at 2am right now? Soap lets out a little bemused huff when he sees that he reached a dead end to their chat after one swipe of his thumb. Of course. Right bastard doesn’t text anyone. He tilts his head up to meet the flickering white light of the bathroom ceiling, watching water damage and mold streak across the concrete. Ghost… how is he during deployment? Does he still wear that mask around the relative safety of his own apartment? Does he have any hobbies? Does he go to the gym as well? Does he long to be back on base? Does he long to be back in the chaos of the war zone, alongside soap? Does he think of soap? Does he ever think to- before Soap knows what he’s even doing, his fingers clumsily type out a greeting.
Hwlli
That’s not quite right.
Gellp
Nope.
Hellu
Oh my god.
Hello
There we go! Soap smiles giddily at his screen, bringing it closer to his face before very carefully writing a much more sophisticated and brilliant follow up.
U up?
He’s the smartest person in the entire world. He supposes a part of himself preens at the thought of even just being able to text someone like Ghost. Big, bad, Ghost. He decidedly does not giggle like a schoolgirl. Just as his mind starts to wander back to the world outside the sickly bathroom, his phone vibrates, and looks down in confusion.
Drunk?
Soap frowns.
Who
You.
Wanna try anf gues, Lt?
You are drunk.
He says it like it’s a fact, like he knows everything. It annoys Soap, much more than it should. He supposes that it could maybe be something to do with the massive amounts of alcohol thrumming through his bloodstream at the moment, but he knows for a fact that it slices through his brain, presses against his throat and contracts his chest.
Yiu think so?
I know so.
Soap thinks Ghost is being a real dick right now.
Ittle know iy all
You’re drunk, Johnny. What do you want me to do about it?
Johnny. Johnny. Johnny. His head spins. If he closes his eyes and imagines hard enough, he can hear the raspy gravel of Ghost’s solid, thick British accent murmuring commanders into his ear. Speaking of noises, his brain starts to register more of the music from outside, the start of a song that Soap can vaguely remember, but he can’t quite put his finger on it right now. The electric guitar, drums and bass all purr in his subconciousness, his lips parting over the words, moving silently as he tries to pinpoint exactly where in the song he is right now. There’s this tune… think of you.. repeat, until I fall asleep, spilling drinks on my settee…do I wanna know? Soap whispers, his mind curling and his ribs creaking. He feels like he’s truly, deeply losing it now, fingers slowly loosening over his phone. His head feels too big and his cheeks are burning, his shirt too tight against his chest and arms and his toes too restricted under his shoes. Everything was funny and everything was too bright and shiny and yearning and blurring and he wishes Ghost was here and he wishes everything was different and he wishes life could just be a little bit easier and-
His phone is vibrating.
Crawling back to you.
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foreverfearlessred · 1 month
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just read Logan’s statement
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stargirl230 · 6 months
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Its been freezing recently and i miss the nice fall weather (october pls come back :’D)
(no reposts; reblogs appreciated)
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djsadbean · 3 days
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ultimate weapon against the social media addiction empire: sudoku books from the dollar store with a very nice pen and pencil
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fly-sky-high-arts · 12 days
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I do want to talk about sharing art online from the perspective of a hobby freelancer but before that I'll just toss this tidbit I mentioned on my main
Reblogs are not numbers. Reblogs are meant to share and pass on artwork that someone may like. NO ONE is forced to reblog anything BUT it is a core of engagement in a space like tumblr. Engagement is what brings in interest after all and it's one piece of what makes it important for freelance artists here.
When you look at the numbers and the notes, we need to stop viewing them and comparing them with likes (me included) or total in general. It doesn't help.
Artists do self rebloging to both show or remind folks they've done some work as well as to nudge people to reblog their stuff. Tags are nice and comments in them are a nice way to engage too but passing on the work, especially to help someone to get noticed, is a good way to just work the site as intended.
It will always be about luck because we can't guess who wants to engage with what online. You also can't blame yourselves for this. Don't use the internet mentality of "content" (eugh!) and "flopping" and go about it that way. People find stuff I drew years back and find ways to engage with it now. It's really about luck.
There are things that can help but I'll go about it in another post.
One more thing. Don't be shy about "shilling". Advertise your open commissions, your patreons or ko-fis. I promise it has nothing to do with how big of an artist you are. Remember that you're doing that within your own zone so "bothering" followers is hardly the case, it's your house. Make a tag for it if it helps your mind. I say as someone with social anxiety.
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indig0-constellations · 2 months
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I like to think that after Ice died, Mav kept his shoes by the front door so that when he gets home after work and takes his shoes off it’s like Ice is still there in the house waiting for him to come home
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moltengoldveins · 5 months
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WAKE UP SUCKERS NEW BLORBO JUST DROPPED
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LETS GOOOOOO BOLAS PHILZAAAA
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glowsticcc · 10 months
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more traditional sketches: new life edition!!
these three have sparked my interest and we all know i’m a smajor girlie til i die
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smolstarthief · 2 months
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Eh, since I took some screencaps of him in the main show minus well do a bonus with the Pilot. Have at it dears! (Part 1 because curse Tumblr image limit!)
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marcmorrigan · 2 months
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@fenglianweek day 6: memories/growing up
the best thing thats ever been mine
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stergeon · 6 days
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> FERDINAND II.
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And so your PLANT shall henceforth be known as FERDINAND II.
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The thought of needing to inform FERDINAND I of his having a namesake makes you a bit ill, but you are already hard at work devising several plausible excuses for the gesture. Something about how you've named it after the one most invested in its naming, or how it is similarly prone to drooling. Yes. Yes, you will be able to deflect quite easily, should the need arise. It has nothing to do with your fondness for FERDINAND or your desire for a substitute in his imminent absence, no—again, you are not so prone to sentimentality. It's about the drool.
Well, anyway. Best to move on with your day and think about something else, lest you grow maudlin or cultivate further affection for the PLANT. May the GODDESS be merciful and never cause you to develop inclinations that could be described as paternal.
Now that your plant has received sufficient care, it is time for COFFEE. You set to making your morning brew. By CHANCE, there happens to be sufficient water remaining in the kettle for FERDINAND I to have TEA, should he wish it.
Per your TIMEPIECE, it is now a quarter to eight. You have made excellent progress on your PRE-BREAKFAST TO-DO LIST thus far: the only remaining task is to remove FERDINAND. You are starting to get rather peckish and would like to be rid of him quickly, but over the past week, you have found that extracting the man from YOUR QUARTERS is a more arduous task than it ought to be.
#007 | < | > | JOURNAL | HOW TO PLAY | SEE ALL POSTS
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