i guess this is a thing i'm doing now

Someone online was translating lots of Osomatsu-san fanart for people and I asked if I could draw them something back since they’d been doing all of this for free. They asked for a bee Karamatsu and, well, that’s my specialty these days, isn’t it?


The signs as quotes from "history of the entire world, i guess"
  • Aries: Nope, can't walk yet. And there's no food so I don't care.
  • Taurus: Fuck it, time to plant some grass. Look at this, I control the food now. Now everyone will want to be my friend and live near me.
  • Gemini: Hey Christians, do you sin? Now you can buy your way out of hell!
  • Cancer: It's sad. I'm sad. I miss you. How did this happen?
  • Leo: Forget this. I wanna be something, go somewhere, do something. I want things to change. I want to invent time and space.
  • Virgo: Is loving Jesus legal yet?
  • Libra: Let's overthrow the palace and start cutting all their heads off!
  • Scorpio: Get the hell out of here. Will you get the hell out of here if I give you 500 elephants? Ok thanks bye.
  • Sagittarius: Time to conquer all of Europe.
  • Capricorn: Damn, we gotta start pillaging some stuff.
  • Aquarius: That's bullshit, this whole thing is bullshit, that's a scam, fuck the church, here's 95 reasons why.
  • Pisces: You could make a religion out of this.

It started with drawing Zarc with his hair wet and then I’m not sure what happened ;;;

I Have a YouTube Channel Now!

Ever wanted to watch two gay ladies play video games and make real dumb jokes? WELL, you’re in luck! My friend @emilysbagelsandwich and I have started a YouTube channel together: the Gaymer Girls (har har).

We started with Until Dawn - of course - and our first video is already up. We’ll be posting new videos every Wednesday and Saturday.

You can find our channel HERE, and keep up with us on Twitter HERE. And a big thank you to @banhmiboy for all of our awesome channel art! ADIOS!

  • Minho: There's a rumor going around, you know.
  • You: What rumor?
  • Minho: Apparently there's this guy who really likes you but doesnt have the guts to tell you.
  • You: Who is it?
  • Minho: He'd kill me if I told you.
  • You: I thought we were best friends.
  • Minho: He's also one of my best friends.
  • You: Minho, you're only other best friends are Thomas, and Newt and it's definitely not one of them.
  • -
  • Thomas: Hey (Y/N), I heard about the guy who's in love with you.
  • You: Oh, so he's in love with me?
  • Newt: No he isnt.
  • You: Can't you shanks just admit that there is no guy. If there were, you'd at the least give me a name.
  • Thomas: Mm, no names. But you know him. *winks*
  • (walk away)
  • You: I know everyone in the bloody glade.
  • -
  • Minho: Do you want to know more about your secret admirer?
  • You: Not really.
  • Minho: And why not?
  • You: Because you shanks are playing with me.
  • -
  • Newt: You alright?
  • You: *laughs* Just doing my best to stay away from the boys and their secret admirer crap.
  • Newt: Don't think you have one?
  • You: Have you met the boys? Of course not. Besides if there were, I dont understand why he wouldn't talk to me.
  • Newt: Maybe he's afraid you won't like him back.
  • You: How will he ever know if he wont talk to me?
  • Newt: Give the shank a break, he's a shy one.
  • You: So you know him?
  • Newt: *under his breath* Better than you'd think.
  • -
  • You: The hints you gave me about the guy.. Are they true?
  • Minho: Yeah he's a shy dude, one of my best friends and won't shut up about you when you're not around.
  • You: I think I have a clue about who it is.
  • Minho: It's not all that hard to tell if your pay attention to the way he looks at you.
  • You: What if it's the guy I'm thinking of?
  • Minho: I think you know exactly who he is, (Y/N).
  • -
  • You: Guess what? I found out who the secret admirer is.
  • Newt: Oh..how?
  • You: Doesn't matter. Do you think now I know he'll grow a pair and ask me out?
  • Newt: If he does, will you say yes?
  • You: Only if he stops referring to himself in the third person.
  • Newt: Okay (Y/N), would you like to go out with me?
  • You: Y'know I always had a thing for boys with accents.
  • Marth: I was born with glass bones and paper skin. Every morning I break my legs, and every afternoon I break my arms. At night, I lie awake in agony until my heart attacks put me to sleep.
  • Alm: Come on. You know, I wumbo, you wumbo, he/she/me wumbo. Wombology, the study of wumbo! It’s first grade Spongebob!
  • Sigurd: If i were to die right now in some sort of fiery explosion due to the carelessness of a friend... Well, that would be okay.
  • Seliph: The boy cries you a sweater of tears, and ya kill him.
  • Leif: Do you smell it? That smell, the kind of smelly smell. A smelly smell that smells... smelly
  • Roy: I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready.
  • Eliwood: That idea may just be crazy enough… TO GET US ALL KILLED!
  • Hector: I used to be a wimp. NOW I'M A JERK, AND EVERYBODY LOVES ME!
  • Lyn: Oh well, I guess I’m not wearing any pants today!
  • Eirika: 1% evil, 99% hot gas
  • Ephraim: It may be stupid, but it's also dumb.
  • Ike: Goodbye everyone, I'll remember you all in therapy.
  • Micaiah: Well, it's not a secret that the best thing about a secret is secretly telling someone your secret, thereby secretly adding another secret to their secret collection of secrets. Secretly.
  • Chrom: Is Mayonnaise an instrument?
  • Lucina: We did it Patrick, we saved the city!
  • Corrin: Can I be excused for the rest of my life?

Anakin Skywalker is six years old.  He’s just been bought for the very first time.  He can still hear the auctioneer’s voice listing off his best features as the hands and claws of the buyers in the audience reached above their heads.  Taurani, the Phindian man who’d just bought him and his mother, prods Anakin in the back, gently pushing him towards a bodyguard.  The bodyguard ties thin chains around his and his mother’s wrists, and they follow the Phindian (now mounted on the back of some animal whose species Anakin does not recognize) to their new living area.  Through his sandals, Anakin can feel the hot sand.  When he steps into a deeper spot, it seeps into his shoes and scratches his toes.  

Anakin is eight years old.  He’s finished his work for the day, and Watto has agreed to let him go outside for awhile before the household retires.  It’s a rare grey day on Tatooine, and Anakin sits quietly under the awning of the shop building, letting the faint trace of a breeze tickle his cheek.  His fingers absentmindedly rake through the sand and trace delicate plans for his new android project into the coarse crumbs.  He’d seen his mother beaten in the market earlier.  He hates this place.  He hates the Sand People, the slavers, the shopkeepers.  Angrily, he swipes his hand through his sandy blueprints and trudges into his work shed.  Building will help him to calm down.

Anakin is ten years old.  Three people had visited the shop today.  A man and a girl.  There’d been an alien with them, too.  He hadn’t recognized his species, but the creature might have been the stupidest thing he’d ever met.  The older man was kind, though.  At least, he’d been kind to Anakin.  But the girl was the person he remembered best.  She’d been older than him, but she wasn’t an adult.  She’d been beautiful.  Anakin was sure she’d been an angel, even after she said she wasn’t.  That was the kind of thing an angel would say.  He sighed, and continued to sweep the shop floor.  He grimaced.  He hated the sand.  There wasn’t a single other trivial thing like it that could make life so miserable.  He thought about the visitors again.  They’d been interesting, sure.  They had also tracked all kinds of sand in, and it could be impossible to clean up sometimes. 

Anakin is twelve years old.  Master Kenobi has taken him, along with a half dozen other Padawans, to a planet called Illum.   They’re going to start building their lightsabers today.  Master Kenobi had knocked on their shared dorm’s door the night before and told them to dress warmly.  Stepping off of the transport, Anakin understands why.  It’s an ice planet.  He shivers.  At least it’s not a desert.  Then he steps outside.  Snow.  Snow, up to his knees.  No, he thinks.  This is just a different kind of desert.  Cold instead of hot.  Snow instead of sand.  It wasn’t that different at all.  The more he thought about it, the more the snow reminded him of sand.  It had the same cruel, visceral nature to it.  Always hindering, never helpful.  It could look beautiful and appealing, at least until your feet were burning with pain.  Both powdery substances got everywhere, too.  You couldn’t escape it.  At least the snow melted.  But the sand… he would have sworn before the Jedi High Council that he’d been brushing sand out of his hair even a year after he’d left Tatooine.  He shivers, and stares down at his damp boots, kicking a frozen clump of snow in no particular direction. He hopes that his group won’t have to be here long.  

Anakin is fourteen.  He and Master Kenobi are dueling in the temple of the courtyard.  It’s pitch black outside, the way it usually is at two in the morning.  Master Kenobi had said they came out to fight this late because it would help Anakin to rely on the Force, but Anakin was fairly sure it was because Obi-Wan didn’t want to be seen.  Strictly speaking, Anakin wasn’t old enough to duel his master yet.  He steps forward, brandishing his lightsaber to deflect Obi-Wan’s blow.  His foot lands solidly on the stone floor, and he can’t help but remember sliding when he tried to stick a difficult piece of footing on Tatooine.  The sand would give way under him, dragging his whole body down with it.  He’d lost fights that way before.  He couldn’t count the number of black eyes and broken noses the traitorous sand had cost him.  Taking advantage of his Padawan’s distractedness, Obi-Wan forces him backwards, with Anakin folding his back in such a way that he can’t react to anything his Master does without Obi-Wan moving first.  Anakin doesn’t mind losing too much.  He’d lost to his own emotion.  The ground had nothing to do with it.  There was no sand here.  

Anakin is sixteen.  He slumps against the headboard of his bed, one knee  drawn up in front of him and the other stretched out with the rest of his leg.  He doesn’t know how much longer he can deal with being banished to his quarters.  He’s in trouble with the Council again.  Obi-Wan stuck up for him during the proceedings (the way he always does), but in the end, the Council had still decided he must be punished.  He’s been grounded and his lightsaber has been temporarily revoked.  He glances at the time display on the wall.  He only has three more days of a two week sentence to serve.  He sighs, and gracelessly drops off the bed and into a siting position, legs crossed, hands resting on his thighs with his palms facing the ceiling.  He closes his eyes and focuses.  Obi-Wan told him to meditate during his confinement, so he will.  How long he’s under, he doesn’t know, but when he opens his eyes, half the objects in his room are floating.  He grins, and plucks a grain of sand that’s floating about eye-level out of the air.  He stares at it a moment, remembering Tatooine.  He’s not grinning anymore.  Despite the evening breeze wafting through the courtyard and into his window,  Anakin can suddenly feel an intense heat on the nape of his neck.  His floor seems to shimmer with the reflection of two suns beating down on golden sands.  Long-forgotten scars across his body begin to tingle with a phantom pain that Anakin recognizes as the sharp sting of being caned. Caning had been his first master’s favored method of punishment, and the wounds he’d left on his young slave’s skin had never truly healed. Despite being mental rather than pyhsical, the pain makes Anakin wince, pulling him out of his memories. He drops the grain of sand and lets it fall. A long sigh forces itself out from behind his teeth. He doesn’t move from his seat on the floor for a long time.  

Anakin is eighteen.  Padmé - no, Senator Amidala - has come back into his life for the first time in eight years.  She still looks like an angel.  She also refuses to give him the time of day, which hurts, but at the same time… he’s a Jedi.  She’s a senator.  Their stars crossed the wrong way, he decides, and tries not to linger on it.  He fails.  Obi-Wan senses something wrong with him, and Anakin knows.  Thankfully, Obi-Wan has left him alone so far.  Anakin finds himself thumbing his lightsaber more often than usual, as if to remind himself of his duty.  Duty.  Duty to what?  Who was to say he couldn’t leave whenever he wanted?  He was tired of the council, anyway.  Tired of the endless picking at him, tired of their constant warring with the Chancellor, tired of their infinite rules and regulations.  Sometimes he wished he could just toss his lightsaber away and leave it all behind.  Or maybe take his lightsaber with him, he didn’t know.  But where would he go?  The Order was all he knew now.  He certainly couldn’t go back to Tatooine.  He’s spent too many years surrounded by civilized people and clean buildings and healthy children and stone paths.  To go back to the suns and the sand… he can’t do that now.  But sometimes he wishes he could.

Tsundere Jungkook in Bon Voyage

…when Jimin lost his bags.
I know, another throwback and random rant. I’m so sorry :D -.- But every time I remember moments like this it makes me smile, so maybe it will make someone else smile, too :)

Yesterday I mentioned how Jungkook keeps his ‚pokerface‘ sometimes on camera. This is really alike in a way. I was inspired by that lovely gifset of Jungkook in Bon Voyage, first all about pranking Jimin who lost his phone. But the second sad Jimin appeared, Jungkook gave him his phone, his plans to prank him flying out of the window. (♥♥)

The beginning of Bon Voyage where Jimin forgot his suitcase on the bus is very similar situation. We have foolish, cute and panicked Jimin over his bag, dad Namjoon and mom Jin dealing with it, rest of the members shook… and then we have Jungkook. Who is not even on camera as much, but when he is, there’s just footage of him, being very nervous. We all know he has lots of things he does when he’s nervous/not comfortable, among others, there are these „mouth-movements“ (yep, there’s also Jeonlous tongue thing :D ^^). So while Namjoon calls the consulate, Jungkook is quiet but his expression is screaming once again.

One of the staff members goes to him and asks him on camera how he feels about this whole „Jimin-lost-his-bags“ situation. Jungkook is casual af, even goes through his hair – totally chill – and says: „Oh, you just have to let it go!“. Pretending he doesn’t care. Yeah, sure you don’t, that’s why you almost ate your face from the inside earlier. (His face reminds me of that in AHL when they kidnapped them. I don’t know till this day if he bit his lips so he wouldn’t cry or he bit his lips so he would cry and kidnappers took mercy upon him, but sure as heck he wasn’t feeling cool about that situation, either.)

Anyway they go to their apartment, then they grab some food, he still pretends he’s casual about everything, even takes pictures of some flowers :D (I laugh so hard at that part every time :D)
Well, Jimin then goes to pick up his bags from the airport bus and as he’s coming back, guess who we see in the window of the restaurant, full with his „you have to let it go“ attitude, looking over if Jimin has his things now?

…I bet you’re all surprised. It’s Jungkook. Only one of the other six members that paces by the window, probably nervous if his hyung found his belongings.

So, same as yesterday, I’m not sure what I was trying to do here. But I’m just gonna say Jungkook likes to act all tsundere on Bon Voyage, when it’s obvious he’s soft for Jimin-hyung. And once again, I think that’s cute :D ^^

K, bye ~

great comet characters as history of the entire world, i guess quotes
  • natasha: it's sad. i'm sad. i miss you.
  • pierre: now you can buy your way out of hell. that's bullshit. this whole thing is bullshit. that's a scam. fuck the church.
  • sonya: it just seemed like the right thing to do.
  • marya: move over lithuania, here comes moscow.
  • anatole: you could make a reli- no, don't.
  • hélène: hello? yes, it's the 1920s calling.
  • dolokhov: look at those guns. it's gonna be a great war. so great we won't need a second one.
  • bolkonsky: and it's so goddamn profitable, you might forget not to do slavery.
  • mary: is loving jesus legal yet?
  • balaga: remember this tiny space you have to go through to get from here to there?
  • andrey: it was a great idea. he was great. and now he's dead.

at this point, anyone not into power rangers should definitely blacklist it because i’m not holding back anymore and this blog is now Real Power Rangers Trash.


Everyday people do everyday things but I
Can’t be one of them
I know you hear me now, we are a different kind
We can do anything

anonymous asked:

First the date adding up to 28 and then he decides to upload all his shit on the 28th. I'm not screaming or anything.


tfc characters as Bob's the burger quotes
  • Neil: Oh it’s okay, I guess I wasn’t meant to have a good life.
  • Andrew: Oh, I swear to god, if you keep talking to me I'm gonna gut punch you.
  • Kevin: You guys are a burden, a dead weight!
  • Nicky: I've eaten nine birthday cakes, and I still feel empty.
  • Aaron: If you need me I’ll be down here on the floor dying.
  • Allison: I don't appreciate your lack of sarcasm.
  • Dan: I’m a smart strong sensual woman.
  • Matt: Do you think horses get songs stuck in their head?
  • Renee: What is this feeling I'm feeling right now? It's like I'm sad for another person? Is that a thing?
  • Wymack: Listen, you’re my children and I love you but you’re all terrible at what you do here.

anonymous asked:

I hate to ask, but school is kicking my butt and I'm really stressed out, do you have any headcanons with the batfamily being "smart"? Like, doing detective things or something? Please only respond if you want to/feel like it. I don't want to be a bother. Thank you.

Hmmm I’m not 100% sure what you’re asking for, but I’ll give it a shot?

  • So Damian didn’t know who his father was until pretty late in the game, BUT I think we can assume that he did hear Ra’s and Talia talk about his dad a few times when he was little. Thing is, they don’t generally use Bruce’s name. They call him “The Detective.”
  • That being the case, I always figured lil Damian ran around thinking “I too will be a detective” and playing at investigation, which would probably boil down to sneaking around in order to overhear as much as possible. For the record, I don’t think he ever dropped that habit.
  • I also think that lil Damian was obsessed with Sherlock Holmes, since Holmes is probably the most famous literary detective around. I happen to know that when Tim was fourteen, he was a member of the Sherlock Holmes Society (Detective Comics #618), so I figure they’ve got that bit in common. We are, however, talking about Tim and Damian, so when I say “something in common,” what I mean is “something to compete over.”
  • On top of the expected squabbling about the merits of different media adaptations, odds are they have contests where they both try to observe somebody and deduce as much information as possible. It’s not the kind of thing Bruce would discourage. They are supposed to be cultivating those skills, plus Bruce loves Holmes too. Another thing Bruce enjoys is showing up his children, so it works out well for him. He’s very, very good at that game.
  • So is Dick. Cass is a specific kind of good at it, because of the body language thing. They don’t make their guesses to their subject’s face, so Babs (also a talented player) fact-checks electronically as much as possible. It’s a decent way to pass time on slow patrols. They call it a training game.

What is your favorite journey?
— My favorite journey is probably the one I’m living right now. Of feeling totally confident and comfortable and free with my sexuality. I feel resistant towards normative expectations and standards of relationships. I feel like for me, I totally feel more confident now than I guess I was in my 20’s with who I am, who I want to become and the woman I am now. I think this has been a long journey for me. I don’t label myself. It’s been a hard journey.

— I really feel like the soul has no gender. The most important thing that we’re here to do is to give healthy love and to be loved. It doesn’t necessarily matter what the physical form of the person you are giving that love or receiving that love, it’s the most important thing to do while we’re here.

anonymous asked:

If you are doing the drabble thing, can you do Gargalesthesia? You can do any pairing, I guess, because I can't decide on one. (I hope I'm doing this right)

Poly Sanders. Just because. This is my first poly fic btw so give me some feedback bc tbh im flying blind here

Gargalesthesia - The sensation caused by tickling.
Warnings: Non consensual tickling. Logan has a slight panic attack?

Logan hated gargalesthesia. It was completely illogical, but he absolutely detested it. He had never explicitly told any of the others how much he hated it, and now he found himself regretting such a decision. They had snuck up on him. He hadn’t been expecting it.

His stomach churned as he laughed, hating himself for the way his body reacted to being tickled. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, his thoughts were scrambled and scattered in the worst kind of way. He tried to speak, to push them off, but it wasn’t working, his words caught in his throat, his actions seen as playful.

It was Anxiety who noticed first, of course, always the most observant when it came to distress. “Guys,” he said quietly, pulling his own hands away from Logan. “Guys, stop.” He was more forceful this time, pushing at Patton and Roman. They looked first at Anxiety, then at Logan as he curled into a protective ball.

“Logan, what’s wrong?” Patton sounded confused, and when a hand came up to rest on Logan’s shoulder, he couldn’t help but flinch. “Sweetheart?” There was something almost hurt about Patton’s tone, but Logan couldn’t speak, and only curled tighter into himself.

“My love, have we hurt you?” Roman, too, reached for Logan, but seemed to think better of it. “We’re so sorry, darling.”

A blanket was gently wrapped around his shoulders, once again the doing of Anxiety. “Do you want us to leave you alone for a while, sweetie?” Patton’s voice was so soft, as if Logan might break from a too-loud sound.

But he shook his head, slowly reaching for Patton’s hand and intertwining their fingers. The fatherly trait gently swept his thumb across the back of his hand, a calming gesture. Roman began to quietly hum, and Anxiety merely sat there, just in reach of Logan, keeping a careful eye on the logical trait.

“I’m sorry.” Logan whispered, finally. “I just. I can’t stand it. I know it’s completely illogical.”

“Don’t be sorry, dearest.” Roman murmured, and tentatively kissed his free hand. “You can’t help it.” Agreement came from Anxiety and Patton.

“I think we should go cuddle on the bed, and talk about this a little more. Set some boundaries.” Patton added, gently squeezing Logan’s hand. “I know you were working, sweetie, but you needed a break anyway.”

And so Logan nodded his consent, letting the two “warmer” traits go ahead to prepare everything.

“Are you going to be okay?” Anxiety asked, running a gentle hand through Logan’s hair.

He nodded, pulling Anxiety down for a grateful kiss. “I will be, thanks to you.” He breathed.

Anxiety smiled fondly and helped Logan up, wrapping an arm around his waist. “They’re turning you into such a sap.”

“I am not turning into xylem cell fluid.”

“Fucking damn it.”