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#it's been a while since I've done it
tj-crochets · 1 year
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I can’t remember and tumblr’s search function is being less than definitive. Did I ever show y’all the no-longer-hypothetical dollhouse?
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weksey · 21 days
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little gif for fun
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dragon-spaghetti · 2 months
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I'm feelin soft 🥲
(Please click for better quality!!)
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rolitae · 7 months
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🍂 Last day of warmth
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wis-art · 5 months
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had a bit of fun with photoshop also inspired by this piece
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ionomycin · 10 months
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My Baldur's Gate 3 tieflings, transmutation wizard Lumi and life cleric Primrose. I have been entirely obsessed with the game...
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medli20 · 8 months
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Class Solidarity
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hime-bee · 1 month
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Not in the greatest mental headspace today, so I did some Leu sketches to keep myself occupied 💙
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Lackadaisy Enrichment
#in our enclosures!!#video linked as source; which i'm glad to see already has a million views and is trending. That's Right#lackadaisy#WHICH i have been reading since at least '07 when i was thirteen my god b/c this animation is based on the ongoing webcomic#like does its influence show up Directly in some Discrete way i can point to in my art? not very easily probably. And Yet.#the inspiration....i wasn't able to be Regularly Only for at least another year / art done Nonprofessionally Online was novel to me#like wow ppl can make & post fanart of w/e they love huh....didn't know webcomics were a thing & i never really read that many since but.#good god the quality of Lackadaisy at its onset is like this is superb?? this person putting in all their talent and effort???#and Then you get years & years more art and i don't even know what superlatives to throw out abt its quality as it evolves. obsessed w/it..#if i see a new lackadaisy comic page i Will be acting out. obviously this animation is a delight & also stunning. and fascinating to also#juxtapose as a Translation / Interpretation of the comic in a different medium & standalone snippet of Story#and that we're not even quite there in the comic timeline; Taking Notes abt character info we get distilledly here....genuinely love like#take it back to '07 i'm like oh boy can't wait for the dream team to assemble. then a decade later when it did? Oh Boy. that is payoff lol#namely hooray for stitches and mudbug at the field office for every passing gangster. killing one marigold associate but not the other#which seems like a promising start to shootouts w/the other dream team triumvirate. i adore that in canon so far mordecai freckle & rocky#have met but only over a nice brunch. re: all intentions anyways. anyways i'm like Gifs Must Be Made while i'm also so riled afresh abt the#comic that i've been sooo hype for for over fifteen yrs now babeyyy Deservedly. i've done a couple of rereads & ought to do another....#For Interest it'd probably take a few sittings to catch up from the start but there is much to be engaged over....this ongoing story that's#historical fiction prohibition bootlegging cats with plenty of focus on characters & several Mysteries. which i'm better at parsing now lol#like one of the more recent rereads like Oh Of Course x (probably) accidentally killed his y & z took the fall & that's a binding secret...#Not [oh of course] abt the circumstances surrounding a's death & how b & c were involved. nor the ''what's marigold's damage'' mystery#which is great. love to not know things. love that we can readily follow all the emergent drama everyone's wading in nowadays. hell yeah#anyways admire my organized approach to gifs here. four shots each Expressions Atmosphere Action Groupshots#sure might've muddled through gifmaking for this anyways but fr being a huge lackadaisy comic enjoyer for now most of my life helps#and its very Overall Inspiration like. just really getting the [you can really just draw stuff out here] going. fr the art's detail & skill#and that enrichment like i'm gonna have a great time following this. And I Have#you don't expect a crowdfunded indie animation in the mix back then but hell yeah fellas#SIGH ok removing a 4th gif that's broken / not displayed despite reuploading then entirely remaking it. if it's a bug i'll try again later
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atmothart · 1 year
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Wouldn't lizard fashion be something like spikes and scales and a frilled lizard collar?
Like so?
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(Bonus art under the cut)
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little-pup-pip · 1 month
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Playing outside!!
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bambiraptorx · 8 months
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This is for @nights-flying-fox for the @rottmnt-secret-gifting event!!
We all know that Donnie records everything, but I like to think that he does that with photographs as well as audio.
Also, credit to @/rottmnt-background-screenshots, because the backgrounds for the first, second, and fourth were traced from screenshots I found on their blog.
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onesidedradiostatic · 2 months
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staticmoth week day 1: dancing
early days of staticmoth dipping each other
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gophergal · 30 days
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boinga. boinga. boinga. boinga.
bonus heby weapon man:
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oplishin · 7 months
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I really love the way RF Kuang wrote Rin's relationship to her culture because it's fucking terrible and cruel.
Rin is the last Speerly, and that puts a soul-crushing, unbelievably unfair amount of responsibility on her. She has to be the one to preserve her culture because there is literally no one else. After her, her people will be dead, and they'll be unable to represent or speak for themselves. All that will exist of Speer is other people's interpretations of it, of what they want Speer to be, how they want it to serve their own cultural narrative.
But, god, how could she possibly represent her people? She has no relationship to her culture, any representation she gives it is inherently from an outside, colonized view. Her culture was robbed from her, but she's still burdened with the responsibility of preserving it. She's woefully inadequate for the job, and she knows it. She's literally, physically unable to continue her people because of a choice she made before she knew she was the last of anything. But, even if she had known, it should've NEVER been her responsibility to continue anything, to boil herself down to a reproductive device for a people she owes nothing and everything to.
Rin doesn't dwell on this very often because, oh my god, there's a war happening, and all her friends are dying, and she'll die too if she doesn't keep going, and these lofty ideas of culture and colonialism are for people who don't have to live in a messy, war-torn reality, people have time to think about anything. R F Kuang does a great job of using Rin as an unreliable narrator here. It's clear that she's fucked up about this, but that she will not allow herself to think about it. She's One person, situated and trapped in her One life. She can't be expected to speak for a whole people. So, she pushes her culture aside. She has to live with the fact that this is it, she's the end.
Then, she dies, and Speer dies, and nothing is fair.
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brekitten · 3 months
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Bruce doesn't dream.
He never has, really - at least, not that he can remember. He never even had nightmares from the night his parents died. Maybe that's why; maybe he just subconsciously trained himself to not dream after that night, in fear of the nightmares that were sure to come. But the point is that he does not dream.
And yet.
The dream always starts out the same, every night, every time he closes his eyes and slips into the embrace of sleep. He's in a pitch-black room, one so dark that he can't see his hands even when he raises them right in front of his face. He knows, somehow, that he can walk for hours without coming into contact with anything - walls, furniture, anything at all to indicate that he was even in a room. Yet he knows that he is, although he's not sure why, as there really is no reason for him to know that.
The dream changes, after a while of walking. He knows that he won't find anything, no matter how far or how long he walks. This place is empty, desolate even. It fills him with dread every time. The change is never consistent, always bringing him to a different place each night.
(Once, it was a dusty old bedroom, one that made his heart ache, although he didn't know why. He had taken notice of the various space-themed decorations, the model rockets and NASA posters and stars on the ceiling. It was clearly a child's bedroom, but it hadn't been used in a long time. Another time, it was a darkened lab, illuminated only by the strange vials of green liquid lined along the many, many shelves. Bruce had wondered, after he had awoken, if it was Lazarus Water, but that felt wrong. It was something else. Something more. It had made him uneasy, and he got the feeling that something terrible had happened there. He didn't get a chance to investigate the gaping hole in the wall before he had been whisked away to another part of the dream.)
This time, he is in a brightly-lit white lab, and he has to blink stars out of his eyes at the abrupt change in lighting and color. He looks around; it seems like a typical lab, but everything is pure white, except for a green stain on the table. He can feel bile rising in his throat at the sight of the cuffs on the table, and though he still doesn't know what the green substance is, he gets the horrible feeling that it's blood. A lot of it.
He uses what little time he has to investigate the lab. There is an abundance of medical supplies, but many look unused, with the exception of the scalpels. The pit in his stomach continues to grow. Why were there so many? He reaches toward a vial of red liquid, wrong wrong wrong this is wrong, when the dream changes again.
Now he's in what is clearly a cell, except even the cells in Arkham aren't this bare. The only thing it contains is a familiar white-haired teenager, who is chained to the floor with cuffs that glow the same green as the vials of Lazarus Water that he's seen before.
Though Bruce has never learned his name, he has been in every dream, the one constant (besides the empty room, of course) in each one. The kid has never spoken, never done more than watch, but Bruce has always gotten the feeling that he was the reason for these strange dreams.
He knows that he should be more worried. If some kind of meta has managed to get inside his head, there's no telling what could happen. But he can't bring himself to be. Something is wrong, and it's not the teenager.
He can't help but think of his own children.
Something feels . . . off this time. The kid isn't looking up, isn't even moving - he seems limp, almost, as he kneels on the ground, weighed down by the chains keeping him there. Green blood - Bruce knows it's blood now, it has to be - drips from his still figure, pooling on the ground underneath him.
Bruce can't move. He desperately wants to, what could he even do? but it's like he's frozen in place. He can only watch as the teenager slowly, agonizingly, looks up at him, his bright green eyes dull and filled with fear and desperation and hope and -
Bruce wakes.
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