he stood in the rain and rolled around in puddles it’s possibly the cutest thing EVER
The costume team: And a little dirt to add a smidge of character. :)
Henry, about to go bellyflop in a puddle: Yeah thanks.

Andulka
styofa doing anything
occasionally subtle

No title available

Origami Around

titsay
sheepfilms

⁂
almost home
Sweet Seals For You, Always
YOU ARE THE REASON
todays bird
Misplaced Lens Cap
trying on a metaphor

if i look back, i am lost
dirt enthusiast
Not today Justin

Discoholic 🪩

tannertan36
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
seen from United States

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@yougrock
he stood in the rain and rolled around in puddles it’s possibly the cutest thing EVER
The costume team: And a little dirt to add a smidge of character. :)
Henry, about to go bellyflop in a puddle: Yeah thanks.
shine bright circus man
sometimes I wonder why I never get handed the aux cord but then I remember my spotify library looks like this
links!*
Medieval hardcore party
bisexual bops for neo-victorian thots
sea shanties for thots
*just to clarify by library I mean I have these playlists saved, these are not my playlists and credit goes to the username in the screenshot
Thrive is not the word that I would use
look. i don’t think my stretch marks are beautiful. i don’t think they’re tiger stripes or natural tattooos. i don’t think my acne is beautiful. i don’t think the bags under my eyes are beautiful. i just think they’re human. and i don’t think i have to be beautiful all of the time in order to be accepted and loved and sucessful. i don’t think every small detail of my outer appearence needs to be translated into prettiness.
fun fact: this POV is actually called “body neutrality” and it’s SO MUCH more accessible/realistic for a lot of people. it’s based on the idea that the way we look is the least interesting/important thing about who we are, and that our bodies are worthy of respect regardless if they fit the mold of the current beauty ideals.
Most events pertaining to Black History are not taught in most classes. In your opinion which events do you think need to be more readily addressed in our national education system?
blackjack 🔷
a yoshitaka amano study for molly, based on a character art for setzer (naturally)
The pun…. just.. how?
“Technically…” 🍭 Jester from Critical Role! Any critters out here?
https://www.instagram.com/madboogie.creations/
Working on a one piece art project
Ivy
Page 1
Panel one: across the top of the page (green background) [Poison Ivy: I used to think I was part of the solution]
Panel two: small spindly red head strapped in a chair with a IV and bag hooked to her arm, green color spreading from the insertion screaming and fade out to a heart beat that flat lines [Poison Ivy: Deep inside I knew that this was wrong. It wasn’t natural.]
Panel three: Ivy in the middle standing, smiling lips pressed to a business man’s. On her other side another man is on the ground, reaching toward her, choking to death, but lust in his eyes. [Poison Ivy: Over time I evolved. And then I got results.]
Panel four: Ivy sits on a throne of plants and trees, bending to her will, if the reader looks closely they can see a little bit of brown creeping out from her. [Poison Ivy: They finally let me have a place for my plants. But--]
Page 2
Full page spread
Ivy stands with head thrown back, tears pouring down her face, dripping to the ground. Where they are hitting, the ground is fizzing (like acid hit it). She is as vibrant and green as ever, but all around her everything is dead or dying. In her hands she holds a small animal close to her chest, which is obviously dead. [Poison Ivy: I kept evolving. Poisoning men is all well and good.] [But now I’m just like them. And I can’t stop it.]
The Roomates
Page one:
Splash page
View of an apartment. It’s outside, with a hedge, nice looking neighborhood. A well put together gentleman is standing in front of an open door (ALFRED PENNYWORTH). On the other side of the door is one of the grossest obese men you have ever seen (BLOB). BLOB is sneering, angry and just posted in door opening. [ALFRED: Mr. Dukes? Alfred Pennyworth, the agency sent me. I’m to be your new tenant.] [BLOB: <scoff> git thru da door, git da room [break] pansy]
Page two:
Tier 1
Panel 1: ALFRED is looking at the reader, eyebrow quirked serious expression on his face. [ALFRED: Certainly, sir.]
Panel 2: BLOB is looking at the reader, grinning and looking ready to fight. [BLOB: <heh> can’t wait ta see dis.]
Tier 2
Panel 1: thin shot of the front door. ALFRED has disappeared and THE BLOB looks confused (maybe scratching his head) (we may be able to see one of ALFRED’S highly polished shoes leaving the frame.
Panel 2: Alfred stands in front of the BLOB again, holding out a scrumptious cake which reads <Eat Me> The BLOB is salivating and reaching for the cake, or already has a hand IN the cake.
Panel 3: The door is closing <snickt>, bits of cake lay on the ground.
Tier 3
Panel 1: Shift to looking into the hedge. Eyes are looking out (DEX STARR), but nothing else can be seen of the cat, eyes should have a hint of red in them to foreshadow, and of course they look like a cat’s eyes in shape.
Page three:
Tier 1
Panel 1: Think Hoarders. Half eaten food everywhere, paths through the food to places to sit. Stuff is everywhere and there is no order. Also the BLOB is a big guy. Some of the furniture is cockeyed from him walking around, and there are a few things that have been knocked over and just left where they fell.
Panel 2: circle inset into panel one. THE BLOB is grinning and gesturing to come in with one hand. The middle finger of his other hand is extended, and his tongue is licking off the cake icing there. He has cake and icing all over his face and hands. [BLOB: ya pass old man]
Tier 2
Panel 1: <Later> Overhead shot of the room, which is pretty spotless now (THE BLOB still has cake being shoved into his mouth and on the floor around him) ALFRED is finishing dusting a shelf. [BLOB: forgot I had dat rug]
Panel 2: ALFRED is sitting in a very comfortable looking chair (with a layer of plastic over it, because let’s be honest, ALFRED would not sit anywhere the BLOB’s naked butt could have been without a layer or multiple layers of protection) reading a well worn hardback copy of Though the Looking Glass. The BLOB is peering over the top of the book. [BLOB: what’s dat?] [ALFRED: Research.]
Tier 3
Panel 1: a blue paw flicks a piece of cake out of it’s way on the porch of the apartment.
Panel 2: a red see through finger pushes the doorbell of the apartment <ding-dong>
Page four:
Tier 1
Panel 1: very similar to the first splash page in layout. This time ALFRED is in the door and DEX STARR is in front of him. Readers can see the glint of his red ring in his tale, but it’s dark out, so it’s just a hint. ALFRED is smiling down at the cat.
Panel 2: Alfred has the cat cradled in his arms, bending down to whisper in it’s ear. [ALFRED: (whisper speak) Don’t tell Master Bruce, but I’ve always had a bit of a weak spot for cats myself.]
Tier 2
Panel 1: DEX STARR is still in ALFRED’s hands. The BLOB is reaching out to pet DEX STARR’s head, but he looks leery (The BLOB is not a cat person) [ALFRED: Come now Mr. Dukes, surely you aren’t scared of a cat?] [BLOB: c-course not. (break) nice kitty?]
Panel 2: Close up of DEX STARR, contented smile on his face, eyes narrowed in that cat way which could be either pleasure or anger. [DEX STARR: <Wrong cat. Ass.>] <The End>
Freddy Immelman was never the brightest fellow. He was easy to get along with, one of those happy go lucky guys who never meant to cause anyone any trouble, but somehow always did. You could never stay mad at the guy, because he really did just attract the worst luck. So when her wandered into my secret base one misty April day to get out of the fog, completely oblivious, I could only put my head in my hands and sigh.
I was simply stood making a cup of tea when it happened. I suddenly heard the door fling open. Hand instinctively moving to the butt of the glock resting at my hip, I looked up to see Mr. Immelman stumble in, a dazed look on his face. He took a few steps in before he stopped suddenly, mouth a cartoonish ‘o’ shape.
“Tea?” I asked lifting my cup as a greeting and motioning for him to sit down at the table. I wasn’t rude enough to kick him out, but I’d prefer if he didn’t go snooping around my base. He nodded, mouth still open in surprise, and sat down. I poured him his tea and sat down across from him. “So what brings you here to my home?” I asked before sipping my tea.“Not many people come to visit.”
He took a long sip, pausing to gather from his surprise at stumbling upon something he probably shouldn’t have. “I…I apologize for the, er, intrusion,” he mumbled, glancing around, taking in—or attempting to take in—as many details as he could. “I was walking along the cliffs, and, well, the fog became to dense to see through. I was looking for shelter to wait for the fog to burn off, and I appear to have found it….” He trailed off, having caught sight, I presume, of my large weapons collection, displayed on the wall behind my chair. “Quite nice, aren’t they?” I asked with a smirk.
“I… don’t know much about weapons” He stated, and under his breath he added “not since I shot myself in the foot with a gun.” He reached to put his tea back on the table, when it happened. In slow motion I saw him fumble the tea and it start to drop, right over the top of my mainframe security system. The cup turned over in the air, dousing my top of the line security system. Suddenly I hear a screaming alarm, and a calm computerized voice, “Breach detected. All systems operational. Two hostiles in the area.”
I let out a stream of curse words that I would very much care not to repeat as I bolted up from my chair. “Where?” I yelled. The computer didn’t respond. “Where are they? Who are they? Technology level?” There was still no response. The light had faded from the console, likely due to the tea accident moments before. “Stay here,” I barked at my guest, all my manners removed from my voice. “Guess I’m going to have to do this without a computer,” I sighed, pulling out one of my pistols.
“I’m coming with you” he barked back, standing from his chair. “Sit down”I ordered again, using the voice that always worked on stubborn civilians. Sometimes, if they were feeling properly mollified, I even got a “Yes Ma’am” in return. “No” he replied, crossing his arms in defiance. This man was obviously stupider than I thought. I was about to snap back with another order but then the alarm gave another screech.We did not have time for this! “I hope you know how to shoot” I wasn’t even looking at him, I just reached for the nearest gun and tossed it to him.
He dropped it after struggling to catch and hold it for a few seconds. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose in exasperation. This was shaping up to be an awful day and it wasn’t even noon yet. “Just…follow me closely,” I said brusquely as he stooped to pick up the gun. “And please, for my safety and yours, don’t touch anything, especially something you don’t understand.” He nodded, sheepishness at his earlier accident replacing the foolish determination on his face. I carefully stalked down the rough-hewn hallway towards the back entrance, hoping to catch these intruders by surprise. The hallway opened up into the room, the back door still sealed shut as I had left it. There was no one here, no intruders in sight…
exquisite corpse inspired collaborative story by @japenrose @lemonlimesodas @yougrock and @frankenstein2002 on the wednesday club discord chat
the prompt was: someone walks into a secret base.
This was fun! We each wrote 2 paragraphs (I won't spoil and say who wrote what)
(since I can't draw, I'm going to write this as a thing. We'll see how it goes. Most of my references are pretty common, but Mudge is an anthropomorphic talking otter from the Spellsinger series by Alan Dean Foster. Why is he here? Two words. Talking. Otter.)
The Librarium
Hi! Welcome! Glad you could come to visit, it's not often that people actually follow me here instead of looking at me like I'm crazy and backing away slowly.
As you can tell, it all starts by opening a door, it can be any door. Mudge says since it's sentient it chooses the best person when it's time for the mantle to pass. But Mudge is... not the most trustworthy otter. Why the Librarium picked him as my guide rather than any of the millions of other characters I know. It would have been so cool to have Alfred... anyway I digress.
Apparently The Librarium (my term, since once it chose me it morphed into my...Lab? Lair? Hideout? Something anyway) exists in a pocket dimension out of phase with Earth, reachable when either it summons me or I summon it when I open a door.
I've gathered that it looks different for each of its keepers, but I do have to say, mine is pretty outstanding. I call it the Librarium because it looks like a mishmash of a library and a terrarium. The whole thing is a glass covered circle and the walls are lined with bookshelves. Even the doors are hidden by secret book panels. Yes, there are secret doors, I'll get back to them.
In the middle of the gigantic circle of bookshelves is a tree. I don't know if it's Yggdrasil, but it's enormous. It always seems to know how I'm feeling. Walked in once after my gran died to a weeping willow; one time I walked in and the entire thing was burning (might have been a touch angry that day). The weather seems to change with me too now that I think about it. Good thing the books are weatherproof!
In the distance behind the tree is the lake (complete with a zipline from the tree so I can drop into the water). There's an underwater city down there that I somehow never have time to explore. Mudge says you can just walk down the stairs and not have to worry about scuba gear, I suppose it couldn't hurt to try, when I don't have company that is.
As you can see, the bookshelves are extensive, but they are by no means full. From what I gather from Mudge (and the journals from the other keepers) the more fiction I read the more the bookshelves will fill. So you're looking at the entirety of every fictional book I have ever read. Honestly, some I can't even remember read-- oh dear. Urm... yes? that is my Anita Blake hardback collection. Let's move along shall we?
So all this is well and good. I have a cool pocket dimension where I can reread all my fiction, climb a flaming tree and zipline into a forgotten city, right? But that's not all! This room I affectionately call the friend zone. Anyone here with me automatically sees me as a friend and does not want to hurt me. Unfortunately, it means that I'm still subject to pranks from otters who like to stir up trouble.
I know, I know... if you're the first person that followed me here then how do I know that?
Well, technically you're not the first person to come here with me. That's the really cool part of this place. All these books are here for a reason, not just for me to reread at my leisure (though I do tend to pick one up for that purpose now and again). Go ahead, choose one! Any book at all!
Sherlock Holmes and the Hound of the Baskervilles, huh? Nice pick, my favorite Sherlock novel. So, what I can do is this. Sherlock, or any other character in the story actually, I can pull out of the story and have them in here with us. I see that look, stay with me, we're in an interplanar bubble right now, keep that in mind. There are two things I can do with this. One: keep them in the friend zone and pick their minds about particular things or Two: put them in the sync room and sync up with them.
Yeah, I was expecting the jaw drop at some point. But it's not the best thing in the world. I'm still me, but I would have the mental or mutant abilities or characteristics of the character at hand. So, if I pulled Mr. Holmes out (I won't, he's kind of an ass) and synced with him I would get all of that glorious deductive reasoning, but also the antisocial sociopathic tendencies. And the longer I stay synced the more I mentally become like them. So, double edged sword.
Also, the sync room is outside of the friend zone. Once they enter it, their powers get transferred to me so they're utterly ordinary, (Clark Kent was shocked; it was great to see him try to lift weights in there), but they are still them and don't necessarily see me as a friend anymore. Villains are horrible with the room.
There are of course other doors to other places, I've read about them in the older keeper's journals. I'm still new to the position and I think Mudge and the Librarium are trying to ease me into it.
I never expected this. Dreamed of it, maybe, but never in my wildest dreams did I think something like this could ever happen to me. I can tell you still have your doubts. Why don't you pull out that X Men comic over there and I'll show you how to BAMF with the best of them?
Nostalgia INC
Page One (full panel):
Panel one:
Exterior shot of a building. It’s an anomaly in the middle of modern skyscrapers. It’s a tall building, but rustic looking. Wood tones with a homey feel. Warm and curvy in the middle of clean lines and sterility. Outside above the hand carved wooden door is a sign: [Nostalgia INC. Time in a bubble]. There are a lot of people around (It’s a city), but two of them are beside each other and looking over at the building. First figure is an older woman (grandmother). White haired, laugh lines, especially around the eyes, but now she has a serious expression on her face. She looks frail and weak, but she has a determined look in her eyes. Her hand is holding the other girls’ tightly, but she holds a walking cane in her other hand, and is leaning heavily on it, a large black purse hangs from her arm. She’s dressed in style, classic pantsuit and jacket, but a little flair that is all hers in the jewelry. Her eyes are green and her hair is SILVER, not gray. There are still a few streaks of brown in it, but she’s let the silver win and is proud of it. Her hair is pulled back in a loose bun or chignon or something similar. Figure 2 (granddaughter) is about 12 years old, and is into preteen angst. She has on a distinct goth vibe, but it’s tamed down a little. She has the black eyeliner, and wild colored hair (turquoise or electric blue or a combination) Her eyes look sullen, and she’s wearing a heavy metal shirt (Blondie). She’s got on cargo pants and s generally in baggy clothing. Her hair is loose and flowing and she has on a few pieces of jewelry including a very simple gold chain with a pendant with stands out as odd with her clothing choices. She’s probably in the middle of blowing a bubble of gum, or having a bubble pop. She’s looking at the store with apparent boredom (like any kid who wants to know about something but is pretending they don’t).
Page Two: laid out as 3 overlapping panels in diagonal. The gutter corners have memory bubbles (see description within next panel, three in each corner would be good).
Panel One:
Interior of the store, both of them are inside. We are looking at a diagonal down over the grandmother’s head The granddaughter can’t hide her curiosity, she’s looking around curiously. The grandmother is looking toward the shop attendant. Around the store are pedestals with bubbles big enough to hold with two hands that all have pictures inside and emit a slight glow. One wall is covered with an embroidered scene of a boy and girl (about 5) laughing on a yard (there is a pull cord and it looks like there is shelving behind it (you can just see the end of one of the shelves behind the curtain)). One wall is a huge window looking out into the gloomy street, it makes you want to stay in the shop. There are lots of browns and reds, very comfy colors in the shop. The bubbles on the pedestals have glimpses of scenes in them (suggestions: a boy and a dog running; a gap-toothed girl holding up a huge fish; a man bowing on a stage dressed as The Phantom of the Opera; a woman singing karaoke (have fun here, make happy memories! Any race, gender or age, but nothing above a PG rating). Other than the two of them and the attendant, the store appears empty. The attendant is wearing a newsboy cap and is leaning against the back wall and the door is right beside her. She almost has a bouncer vibe, but she’s a lot friendlier. She’s dressed informally, the whole purpose of this store is to make you feel at ease so… maybe converse shoes, khaki’s and a comfy sweater. She has a wedding band on her hand. [ATTENDENT: Welcome to Nostalgia, Mrs. Norton. We’ve been expecting you.] [GRANDMOTHER: Thank you for scheduling me so quickly. Corrie, stay here please.]
Panel two:
Just the attendant and the grandmother in a room. Still very warm and homey like. The grandmother is laying on a couch, with a device over her head (kind of similar to an Oculus Rift). Tears can be seen rolling from underneath the headgear, but she is smiling wistfully. The attendant has an IPad (or tablet of some kind) she is typing on. View is from above looking down at both of them. [Attendant: Does she know?] [Grandmother: Not yet.] [Attendant: How long?] [Grandmother: A year. If I'm lucky]
Panel three:
The grandmother and granddaughter are leaving the shop. The girl looks more stubborn than before, but the grandmother looks happy, she smiles back at her granddaughter who is looking back into the shop. Her black bag looks a little fuller. [GRANDDAUGHTER: But everyone else at school has at least one!] [GRANDMOTHER: I'm sorry hon, they're just too expensive. Maybe later.]
Page Three (full panel)
Panel one:
The girl sits at a desk, her head in her hands, back shaking. (we're looking from a slightly high angle at her back and the desk). A letter lies to her side, and a row of memory bubbles lay in a display case in front of her. On her other side lies another of the viewers that the grandmother had on earlier. Her hair is still down, but it is faded, and oily. She is dressed all in black. At her side is her grandmother's purse, with a soft glow coming from it (suggesting there are more bubbles inside)[Letter: Hello love, this is my parting gift. Joy, Gran]
bubble one: the grandmother (much younger) holds a baby (her granddaughter) in her hands. She is smiling beautifully and looking straight out at the reader inviting them to come look at the child
bubble two: the grandmother (about 30) is kissing a man (her husband) at an altar. It is their marriage.
bubble three: the grandmother (about 12) is at a rock concert with a group of two other girls, they all have their best rock faces on and are giving the metal sign and headbanging.
bubble four: the grandmother (about 6) is underwater with her hair flowing out around her. She's sticking her tongue out and crossing her eyes.
Pterodactyls in Pink
Page one: Panel one: A mother sits, her back facing the reader, writing at a desk, sitting on a rolling chair. She has a stack of paper beside her and the room is about as cluttered as it can get before being termed messy. Beside her is a coffee mug steaming with Shakespearean insults written on it. Above her desk is a "trophy wall" with Star Wars masks mounted: a Boba Fett, Darth Vader and Stormtrooper. There are bookshelves lining the wall,filled with books and comics, looking closely you can see Mercedes Lackey, Jim Butcher, Wicked and Divine and numerous fairy tale anthologies. [off panel speech bubble:Momma? We're home!] Panel two: The mother is turned around now, and a little boy about 7 is launching himself at her. Both of their arms are open, ready to give each other hugs. Both are smiling huge happy smiles. The boy looks a lot like the woman, brown hair and eyes with a grin that looks like it's used as often to express happiness as it is to share in a mischievous joke or two. He's missing one of his front teeth. He's wearing khaki cargo shorts and a batman shirt. The woman has a few gray hairs hidden in the brown pulled back into a ponytail and is wearing glasses. Her eyes look tired but she's obviously happy to see him. She's wearing jeans and a shirt that says Goonies Never Say Die. [Mother: So? How was your first big boy movie?] [Boy: Momma! MOMMA!! There were ROBOTS and DINOSAURS and a SCARY LADY and ZORDON and ALPHA!] Panel three: A shot of just the boy. His mothers hand is ruffling his hair. He's still got a gap toothed smile and is now nodding up and down. He's standing back a bit and punching the air, mimicking a move he saw. [Mother (off panel): You liked it then?] [Boy: Uh-HUH! Go Power Rangers!] Panel four: Back to a shot of the room. The boy is in his mothers lap, his head tucked under her chin, pretend punching, legs swinging. The wall is now filled with his description of what happened in the movie. Another woman is in the room now, older than them both, smiling at the boy. The mother is looking at her smiling. [TEXT ON THE WALL: first there was a scary guy but he wasn't scary he was zordon but he got trapped and the green lady was bad and tried to get him and then the power rangers swam and they found zordon and alpha scared me but he was a good guy and they couldn't get the dinosaurs to work but then they did and they fought the green lady and the monster and turned big and beat them] [mother: Thanks for taking him Mom. I couldn't get out of this project.] [Grandmother: It was fine. He inhaled the popcorn though; probably won't want dinner.] [Mother: That's fine. Glad he had a good time.] (In a white space before the page turn) [Mother: So Bud? Who was your favorite Power Ranger?] Page two: Panel one (1/2 page vertical spread): In the foreground stands the boy doing the pink ranger pose, behind him in costume is the pink ranger in the pose as well. Page is split down the middle of them both with a jagged line (right through their heads and hearts). The background in this side is a starry galaxy, with the pterodactyl flying through it. The boy is smiling his smile, brow furrowed a bit trying to remember the pose [Boy: (speech bubble 1) I wanna be the Pink Ranger! (Attached speech bubble jagged line cuts it off in the middle) She ca-] Panel two ( other 1/2 page): Profile shot of the grandmother. White background. She looks frustrated, a slight grimace on her lips. [Grandmother: You don't want to be the PINK Ranger. She's a GIRL.] [Boy: (off panel) oh.] Page three: Panel one: The boy is back in his mothers lap. His head is down he has a frown. His shoulders are slumped and he's no longer practicing being a Power Ranger. The mother is glaring over his head at his grandmother, her head sharply moving for her to leave. Her lips are pursed but she's holding the boy tighter than we've seen. Panel two: The mother and son (viewpoint is over mothers shoulder). Mother is tilting his chin up with one hand so he will look her in the eye. He looks heartbroken. [Mother: Wanna know a secret?] [ Boy: (watery speech bubble) uh huh]. [Mother: (whisper graphic) Grandmas can be wrong. I think you'd be a GREAT Pink Ranger!] Panel three: The boy is smiling a little, but it's a closed smile, you can't see the lost tooth. The mother is kneeling in front of him, eyes filled with tears and serious but still keeping a smile on for him. He's looking down at the floor again, scuffing his shoes in the carpet. [Boy:For real?] [Mother: For really real.] Panel Four: The boys arms are thrown around his mother and her arms are tight around him. We're looking at his back and a single tear runs down the mothers face. [Mother : So if YOU'RE the Pink Ranger... which one am I?] [Boy: hmmm... I think you'd be...] Page 4: Panel one full spread (Similar feel to the 1/2 page on 2) the boy and his mother are both in Power Ranger poses. The boy has the pink ranger behind him, the Mother has the blue ranger behind her. Both have huge smiles on the mothers eyes glancing over at her son. [big letters on top of the page in graphic print. BLUE!!] [box on the corner of the page: All children should be taught to unconditionally accept, approve, admire, appreciate, forgive, trust and ultimately love their own person. --Asa Don Brown]