I want to go home (I have to work)

illustration of the horses in the game Rimworld, which are cartoon-like and depicted as limbless. three brown horses are in a green field. in the foreground, a foal sniffs its parent. in the background, another horse looks at a gravship flying by in the distance

rimworld horses

Making OC trade card with art side look like science journal cover they would publish in

Look my OC got published in scopus Q1 before me

ART TEAM
🐱Selma Kattenhavn
CONCEPT DESIGN
GRAPHIC DESIGN
SPACECRAFT DESIGN
MISSION PATCH

@exonide37.bsky.social
CONCEPT DESIGN
CHARACTER DESIGN
ENVIRONMENTAL DESIGN
MECHANICAL DESIGN

@nosusuishin.bsky.social
MECHANICAL DESIGN
SPACECRAFT DESIGN
ENVIRONMENTAL DESIGN

@002405.bsky.social
ILLISTRATION

#CallofDuty #SimonGhostRiley
#GaryRoachSanderson
silly photo

A watercolour painting of a curled up sleeping cat. It has calico markings but in red, blue, and yellow. There's a twisty line of string and stars around it.

Still hibernating #art

You can take a breath. You cannot take a breathe.
You can breathe, you cannot breath.
You can HAVE and HOLD breath. You cannot have or hold breathe.
That extra e at the end carries way too much weight imo

technology should be good. instead it suck

梅の花
Plum blossoms

#photograph #flower
#梅　#風景　#landscape
#photoJapan #xperiaphoto

i love when people talk about how they wanna fuck the grandpa even though he's canonically acearo

Plum blossoms

Plum blossoms

Today's plum blossoms

📷 by me

I LOVE ART I LOVEEE IT I LOVE FANFICTION I ADORE IT TO DEATH

NEVER STOP CREATING!!!!! CREATE WHAT YOU WANT, NEVER LET SOMEONE DULL YOUR SPARK I LOVE YOU ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

www.patreon.com/idolomantises

PSA for Discord's new age verification!

If you get hit by it and refuse to give them any ID or face scans as you should, here's a way to just... bypass it.

Go to Settings - Family Centre and then just enter a date of birth that's 18+

It's really that simple. Give them nothing.

drawing of bryony vines

drawing of bryony vines

drawing of bryony vines

drawing of bryony vines

Black Mandrakes

illustrations of a map and a botanical description made to look like old parchment, with two dried bean pods and several seeds scattered on top

I am happy with this one. It's supposed to be a Mucana plant, which have floating seeds that look like burgers

Intertidal Market

THE MERCHANT

Learning to let myself enjoy fics that are still WIPs
I used to avoid them bc I'm uh Not Patient. (and bc I will 100% forget where the story was when it updates again lol)

But if it weren't for people who read wips, I'd never get feedback on /my/ works and thus wouldn't be as motivated to finish. +

💚🖤🤍 Aro Pride Dragon~

He's committed to the bit !! He's a shit stirrer! He's the worst!! I'm lomf him 🥺

Thanks! Ghost is just like me fr...

Aside from amused at Soap's expense, Ghost seems genuinely curious. So, Soap generously ignores what might have been a pun. “He wants to pet the dog.” Soap snorts and makes a beeline through the mess toward an emptying table. With Ghost at his back, he has an advantage over the crowd. “Gaz has been showin' that video around, and I keep gettin' people who think I'm the new authority on stray animals.” “Aren't you?” Ghost slides into the seat opposite from where Soap sets his tray. “Seemed to have a pretty good handle on the situation.” Ghost's eyes are carefully blank when Soap looks up to catch his expression. Bastard probably knows he's trying to get a read on him. “Is that what it looked like? Heard Gaz showed you too,” Soap prompts, grinning at the tightening around Ghost's eyes he gets for his effort. “He did.” “And?” Soap picks up his fork and makes a 'go on' gesture. “Don't leave me hangin'. I wanna know what 'Ghost the Wolf Hunter' thought of my daring venture.” Ghost rolls his eyes, jaw working under the mask. It takes him a few seconds to respond, long enough that Soap can shovel in a few bites of his hash. “Don't think that's a wolf.” "That's it?"

“You want my professional opinion?” Ghost raises an eyebrow, tone flat. Soap frowns. He's starting to get the feeling that Ghost doesn't like where the conversation has gone but, for the life of him, he has no idea why. As Soap sees it, his options are to push harder for a reaction (with the possibility that Ghost will ignore him for the rest of the day), ask him about it directly (with the possibility that Ghost will change the subject and _then_ ignore him for the rest of the day), or let it go and assume something crawled up Ghost's ass and died (as things seem prone to doing). “You wanna give it?” Soap choses to let the topic end naturally. Rest in pieces whatever ruined Ghost's mood today. Godspeed, and all that. “As your Lieutenant and commanding officer—” Oh for the love of god... Soap rolls his eyes and Ghost shoots him a proper glare. “I think that you should leave it well enough alone. Nothing good comes from fucking around with the unknown, best to stay in your lane when you have the chance.” “Sir. Yes, Sir.” The lingering glare tells Soap that his lack of luster has not gone unnoticed. He grimaces and tries to hide the blatant insubordination under another bite of his probably-meatloaf. “I mean it, Soap. You're barking up the wrong tree.” His fork stops only inches from his mouth, and his eyes snap up to make contact with Ghost's again. The man is as stoic as he was a few seconds ago. “Ghost...”

“I don't want you slipping your collar in the middle of the night—“ “Ghost.” “—to go chasing a cautionary tail and end up with your nose in something that'll put the bite on you.” “Ghost, please.” Soap gives up on his food and drops his face into his hands. “I'm just tryin' to have lunch.” He knows the plea is useless. Once Ghost gets started, he won't stop until he's interrupted by something important enough, or he runs out of stupid shit to say. (Guess which happens first.) “Feelin' ill, Johnny?” “Aye. And who's fault do you think that is? You and your sick fuckin' jokes.” He glares up at Ghost through the cage of his fingers. “Don't fuss.” Ghost leans in slightly and dips his head, patting the table between them with his palm in a mockery of comfort. “Get some hair of the dog in you, you'll be right as rain.” “See, you wilnae say that when ye find where it came from,” Soap points out, grasping for some semblance of control in the quickly spiraling conversation. He feels somewhat vindicated when Ghost actually _does_ pause and tilt his head. Might be able to salvage this. “Hair of the dog that bit you,” Ghost says. “Aye,” Soap nods, smirking despite himself. “It came from Scotland.” “The hair or the dog?” “The—oh you daft fuckin' cunt!” Soap narrowly resists the urge to launch himself over the table, instead glancing around the crowded mess as he leans in toward Ghost and lowers his voice. “Gaun keep talkin' ya glakit bastart, cause ah know yer pure gantin' for a proper battering next time we're oan the mats, just ye wait.”

Ghost squints at him just slightly, corners of his eyes crinkling under the greasepaint. “Is that any way to address your superior officer, Sergeant?” “Is when my superior officer is talkin' pure shi—” “Lover's quarrel?” Soap jumps and only avoids embarrassment because Ghost startles as well—though much more subtly (with him, it's all in the eyes and breath). He turns to look at the other end of the table where Price stands with his arms crossed and his eyebrows raised, mustache slanted in what's probably a smirk. John has to swallow back the urge to spit something equally vitriolic at the Captain; it's one thing to give Ghost grief, but something tells him that Price wouldn't be nearly as forgiving were that behavior directed toward him. “Naw,” Soap says instead, lowering himself back into his seat and taking up his fork again. “We're gettin' along fine.” He punctuates this with a glare toward Ghost, who's still looking far too smug. “That so?” “Nothin' to worry about,” Ghost assures—though since it's coming from him, it sounds less reassuring and more like he's trying to get the Captain off his ass. Case in point, Ghost is standing the next moment, easing away from the table with the sort of nonchalance he only affects when he's trying to make a quick get-away, but can't pull his usual stunt of disappearing into the ether. “See you at the briefing, Captain. Sergeant.” He tips his head incrementally toward them both, but his gaze lingers on Soap. “I've gotta go see a man about a dog.”

It's still Wednesday. I can still post a #ghoap wip.

#ghostsoap. cw for Ghost's horrible terrible themed turns of phrase.

Haven't finished this piece yet (I need to sit down in museum or something for this), but I still very much like it

what 6 years of updates does to a catboy

Ad astra, infinitum
#art #rkgk #vtuber #SelmaArchive

Book cover called In a Dust Cloud with a painting of an overgrown barn

Hello, you can now buy this pdf of all my old landscapes and a few new ones ones too that you’ve never seen before
ko-fi.com/s/889e6eec9f