i made this ages ago so why not post it

Sooo, I made this little trailer ages ago on my shitty iMovie editor, and with every chapter it gets less and less relevant, so I figured I’d just post it as is for a fun little waiting time pick-me-up. Behold, our four heroes. More vids here

anonymous asked:

When it comes to Sonic's personality, I don't understand why some people don't like SATBK Sonic because he's too perfect and always in the right. Never understood this reasoning because Sonic was never portrayed this way in the game. In fact, I think this game was easily his best characterisation in terms of balancing out his cockiness & kindness. He also doesn't mind playing the bad guy sometimes which gave a bit more dimension. He also gets criticsed from Caliburn & Merlina so he's not perfect

Nailed it.

I don’t really get this criticism in regards to both Storybook games, not just SatBK. I recall I made a post ages ago that outlined the examples across both games that proved that Sonic was most certainly not the straight-laced goody two-shoes that his detractors make him out to be. I’ll look for it in fact.


Ah! found it. After having to use Google Advanced Search given the search function here isn’t worth a damn.

Storybook Sonic?

Afflicted with all-consuming goody two-shoes mannerisms?

Ermm…no. Not really

Only a small handful of moments here BTW.

1 - Rips Bemoth’s horns out in a rather gruesome fashion then tells him in a carefree, unconcerned manner that his horns will eventually grow back.

2 - Slashes the Mist Dragon’s horn clean off then boasts about it to Merlina.

3 - Beats the ever loving shit out of Erazor’s heart, punching, slapping and kicking it with his bare hands and feet with a shocking degree of savagery.

4 - Pins the Earth Dragon under an extremely heavy rock column. This causes a boulder to smash it on the skull and destroy it’s horn.

5 - Regards Erazor with complete apathy when he’s being condemned to his lamp for eternity, only shaking his head i what can be interpreted as disbelief.

6 - Attacks Merlina first with the obvious intention of cleaving her in two. She didn’t even display any intention to attack him first and her retaliation could be seen as self defense even.

7 - Throws Erazor’s lamp into the molten metal of Evil Foundry, either destroying him or preventing the lamp from ever being found. Dayumn…

Storybook!Sonic isn’t an overly-idealized “perfect” good guy, he’s the epitome of both good is not soft and beware the nice ones. And I always viewed him as being very rough around the edges so to speak wth his irreverence and occasional temperamentalness especially in SatBK when he continually clashes with many of the characters around him.

gtanddragons  asked:

Heyo! Just wanted to ask: have you ever played Ib? I've always loved it and felt as though it had at least some great G/t potential.

Yes, I have played Ib before and I do agree that it has a lot of gt potential along with being an overall loveable game!

Funny story about that, I drew some g/t stuff for it ages ago (like before I made this account) and I never got around to posted it given how old it was.

Most of the old G/t ideas I had about the game centered around Ib using the gardeners painting in the early stages to heal Gary’s rose instead of the vase. Thus making making his rose grow huge and turning Gary into a giant. So when you encounter him again you get a Gary waking up very confused as to why gallery shrank and why a tiny girl is talking to him. And eventually its about him taking care of a little Ib (and Mary). Though I’m curious what other gt ideas you might have had about the game since you brought it up.

(For those curious about what I drew ages ago that was more or less complete)

legion0047  asked:

why did your last post sound as if you are used to getting scammed on your commisions?

Well a couple of people got stuff for free a while ago, because they just bolted. 

And this one waited forever to send the money so I was afraid and skepitcal about the payment. 

Plus it was 8000 words and that made me super nervous, and because of the content. 

Now I just wish I had more people asking about commissions and wanting them regularly. Instead of nothing for ages.

homosozialismus  asked:


1. First impression: why does this person know so much about South East European geographical maps
2. Truth is: gay nerd
3. How old do you look: exactly your age tbqh
4. Have you ever made me laugh: aye!
5. Have you ever made me mad: literally an hour ago with fucken horse baby
6. Best feature: hair + passion for old bops!
7. Have I ever had a crush on you:
8. You’re my: (former) fairy godmother
9. Name in my phone: Bernie
10. Should you post this too? Absolutely not

anonymous asked:

u ship birdflash so you cant really complain abt the age difference in bluepulse since its the same :/ the only difference is we've seen wally and dick aged up in canon lmao

i dont ship birdflash in the yj cartoon universe only in the comics (which is why i refer to that ship as dickwally now)

i have shipped it in the past tho before i really considered the age difference, which is also true for bluepulse which is why i made the post pointing out the age gap, because i know that there are many ppl in the same position

tho this ask did remind me that i never went through that tag to delete the content i did reblog- so thank you for that- the last yj verse birdflash content i rbed was nearly a year ago which was the point at which i actually registered the age diff and realised that while they made good friends a romantic relationship would be messed up

i have either actively shipped or supported shipping a lot of gross ships in my past as have most ppl on here and as with most ppl it took active work on my part to work through the normalisation and see how messed up those relationships are

it is not a comfortable process especially if youve been involved in fandom for a long time/since you were young, but it is definitely worth doing

anonymous asked:

Why did you choose shippo as a muse?

mY SON IS PRECIOUS LOOKIT HIM. but to be serious, i made this chat post on his blog a couple days ago & i still stand by it. shippo is just a mere child around the age of 8 ~ 9-ish ; both of his parents were brutally murdered by two sadistic demons. shippo greatly loved his parents & he’s always shown to idolized his father so much. he never got to experience what it’s like to have a NORMAL childhood, grew up normally with his family by his side, because they were all killed. such a sad backstory got to me, i suppose ; i originally never thought much about him, i though he was a little annoying. but when you consider shippo’s backstory, you can’t help but feel pity for this kid. he lost his family at such a young age, he has to grow up by himself, he has to defend for himself, he has to learn how to protect himself on his own before he met the inu gang. he has to train himself & those who have watched the anime or read the manga should know that he’s pretty much a coward. but y’know what, he’s still trying. he’s still a kid. give him a break. at the end of the series, he finally got his revenge on the thunder brothers & he avenged his father & he found his own little family in the inu gang. i’m so glad my son!!!! got the!!!! closure he!!!! deserves!!!!!!!!

anonymous asked:

what are some of your unpopular opinions then?

i was sitting here for like 5 minutes trying to figure out why youd be asking this then i remembered i made a post ages ago about this holy shit im so sorry ive been on mobile i didnt even see this my god

anyway. here are some unpopular opinions of mine

Keep reading

@ the person from South Carolina, USA who is currently going through my blog as of July 10th and 11th, 2017 (no youre not reading that wrong; i edited an entire post i made ages ago just to get this message to you since you haven’t seen any of the ones i’ve made as of July 11th, 2017 — I suggest you go back to my homepage from the start and read them):

I got nothing to hide but I’d like you to either stop or send me an ask on anon as to why you’re doing this.

You fail to realize that I have extreme paranoia issues due to schizophrenia so I’d at least like to know why you’re doing this.

So at least either stop or tell me. It’s as simple as sending an ask on anon.

“You think you don’t deserve it,” Harry said softly. Malfoy’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t reply. That was answer enough. “I know what you did, I’m still here.”

Malfoy met his eyes. “Don’t pretend it doesn’t horrify you,” he said.

“I won’t pretend that,” Harry agreed. “It does, I can hardly believe you did it, and I can’t believe they let you go free just from what I said. But it doesn’t change what I said, you still didn’t have a choice. I don’t blame you for doing what you had to in order to stop them torturing your parents. That they did that, made you kill, is awful enough, but to use your family against you, that’s horrific.”

Malfoy shivered, and Harry shuffled closer. “Do you think you’re dirtying me if I get to my knees for you? If I get you off without getting off myself at the same time?”

Malfoy shuddered, but nodded. “You’re a hero, I’m a murderer.”

Harry’s heart sunk in his chest as thoughts he tried to keep buried came roaring to the surface.

“So am I,” he said softly. “You all forget, I had to kill him to end the war. He may have deserved it, but I still killed him, I took what life he had left.”

“It’s not the same!” Malfoy hissed, slapping Harry’s hands off him. “It’s nowhere near the same! I killed innocent people, I tortured them!”

“And you hated it,” Harry hissed right back. “Look at you! You’re a wreck, you’re an alcoholic. You’re using my body to forget.”

Malfoy flinched, and tried to stand up, but Harry gripped his hips and pulled him back down.

“I’ve used the Cruciatus curse,” Harry said softly. “I used it and I enjoyed it. It doesn’t work unless you really want it to, unless you really want to cause pain. I used it, and it worked. I’m not perfect. You can’t sully me, Draco. The war already did that.”

Malfoy looked back at him with wide eyes. “What are we doing?” he whispered.

Harry felt a chill pass through him, and knew exactly what he meant. They were becoming closer and closer. Harry was calling him Draco more often, it would only be so long before he started thinking of him that way too. He was taking Malfoy’s problems and trying to fix them. He was trying to help when he should be leaving it to his friends. The Slytherin was telling him things he probably shouldn’t, opening himself up for Harry in ways he probably never had before, for anyone.

For two people without feelings, there were being shockingly intimate with each other.

“I don’t know,” Harry whispered back. “I want you. I want to help you. Will you let me?”

Malfoy inhaled sharply, and his whole body seemed to tremble for a moment. Harry wasn’t even sure exactly what he was asking, what it meant or what he was signing himself up for. Still, he did want to help. He was drawn to Malfoy, he always had been, and this time was no different.

His horror over what Malfoy had done was beginning to fade as determination took its place. It was hard to think so terribly of him when he already did that himself. For him to be so uncomfortable, and think that he didn’t deserve to have someone focus on him in that way, to get him off without wanting something in return, made Harry’s heart ache.

“I might just fall in love with you,” Malfoy breathed, “if we’re not careful. No one’s ever cared like this before.”

Harry’s heart was thudding in his ears. That should horrify him. It really, really should. But it didn’t. In fact, he liked the sound of that, someone falling in love with him. Would he love him back? He didn’t think so, but then, he’d never been in love, he didn’t know what it felt like. Maybe he already was a little in love with Malfoy; why else would he forgive all that he’d done and still want to help him? Why would he still want slide between his legs and show him that he was worth something, that he deserved to be pleasured without an expectation of reciprocation?

Harry shivered and leaned up, brushing their lips together gently. Malfoy made a broken, soft sound, then his hands were slowly drifting over Harry’s face, and his mouth was opening beneath Harry’s lips.

- Clouding the Senses (AO3) excerpt because omfg this scene still gives me so many feels even though I wrote it ages ago, and @whimsicaldragonette you reminded me of it with your post earlier!

Story snippet

I wrote this ages ago (post Reichenbach, matter of fact) but never found a story to put it in so it’s been languishing in my files since then. Instead of trying to find a home for it in another fic, I decided to just post it as-is, a standalone snippet for your reading pleasure.

She counted.

How had that happened, when had it happened?

And more importantly, why?

What about her, Molly Elizabeth Hooper, made her special enough to count in Sherlock Holmes’ life?

Yes, she was a pathologist. Yes, she was very good at her job. But there were other pathologists who were equally good at their jobs – some were even brilliant. Was it because she was always so pathetically eager to please him, because she was a willing slave to his every outrageous request?

She doubted it. A simple fetch-and-carry was easy to dismiss, to ignore, to treat like somebody who didn’t exist or have feelings of her own.

So it must have been some time after Christmas, that horrible, horrible Christmas two years ago, that she’d started to count as “somebody” rather than “nobody.”

He’d been awful to her, hurting her without even realizing he was doing it until suddenly he did. Realize it, she meant, her thoughts as much a jumble as her words generally were around him. He’d gone so far as to apologize and offer a quick peck on the cheek before his mobile rang and dragged his attention back to whatever case had been consuming him.

If, she thought tartly, you could call that obscene moan a “ring.”

Still, she stood firm in her conviction that it was after that Christmas that she started to count as someone not just in Sherlock’s periphery, but someone actually in his orbit, someone he took notice of and, she dared to hope, cared about. Oh, not as much as he cared about John, his best mate, or DI Lestrade, who brought him such lovely cases to ease his boredom.

Possibly not even as much as he must care about his family, the brother who’d gotten him such unrestricted access to Bart’s, maybe even his parents, although he never spoke of any of them.

She’d always assumed it was more out of a desire for privacy, since she knew he liked to give very little of himself away the way others gave so much of themselves away to him without even knowing they were doing it.

She, personally, had always felt like an open book to him – one he wasn’t particularly interested in reading, but had had it stuck under his nose so often he couldn’t help picking up the basic plot and characters, all of which he found boring except when he needed something.

Like now? Was that what was happening now, was it like those times when he told her her hair looked nice so she’d fetch him a liver or a pancreas or a cup of coffee?

He’d scared the shit out of her, standing there in the dark, speaking to her without even looking.

“You’re wrong, you know.”

Molly gasped and whirled to face that voice in the darkness. His voice. She held her chest as he continued speaking. “You do count. You’ve always counted and I’ve always trusted you.” He turned to look at her. “But you were right. I’m not okay.”

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

He turned, took two steps closer to her. “Molly, I think I’m going to die.”

“What do you need?”

Another step. “If I wasn’t everything that you think I am, everything that I think I am, would you still want to help me?”

“What do you need?”

He took another step closer, then another, till he was right in front of her. Then he spoke a single word that nearly broke her right there. “You.”

Since he couldn’t possibly mean what her silly, stupid, overheated heart and body wanted him to mean, he must need her to do something, something only she could do for him. So she asked, no stuttering, no second-guessing herself or him, just asked the question. “What do you need me to do?”

She still couldn’t quite believe that he meant it, but when their eyes met and locked – Sher-locked, she thought, semi-hysterically – she knew he meant every word.

She counted. He needed her.

And she would never let him down.