The Best Sleep Is When You’re Dead

hands you a gummy

some categories of titan mark

tactical belt w/ hand towel

soft-sided cooler hip pack

golden age luchador regalia

Knife Is Fake

tutu

ass curtains

crotch indicator

military spec penis protector

beauty pageant sash

Destiny 2 vs. Memes pt. 1

Everybody always so bold when dunking from the other parallel dimension 😔

"Redraw tumblr post" time of the year again, based on this one specifically that i found weeks ago but I needed to do something with it hfgjdh (with the original post being on tiktok). I just love canon Blaze being absolutely ass at cooking💜

My adaptation of the God of Arepo short story, which was originally up at ShortBox Comics Fair for charity. You can get a copy of the DRM-free ebook here for free - and I'd encourage you to donate to Mighty Writers or The Ministry of Stories in exchange.

Again it's an honour to be drawing one of my favourite short stories ever. Thank you so much for the original authors for creating this story; and for everyone who bought a copy and donated to the above non-profits.

Pulled Pork and his Guardian made it to the Tower from the Dreaming City, what a resourceful duo

Bonus colored panel:

My boyfriend was showing me his cat and I leaned over to kiss the cat on his soft little baby head and he went "meow" and scrambled away because I'd been wearing my headphones and I accidentally jabbed him with the microphone.

And I said "Damn, this is exactly like in the Iliad"

“Guardian…”

After the noise has died down, Misraaks scans the room. His eyes come to rest on the Hunter, standing in the center of a dozen splayed-out Eliksni corpses, and wiping blood from its visor for what seems like the hundredth time.

“I… I appreciate that we are at war,” the Kell pauses to find the words, to find exactly what it is he is feeling in this moment. “A war for the future of our peoples, and of our universe. But…”

He pauses once again, his eyes drifting back over the young, malnourished bodies of his former kin. “But the cruelty — no, the effortlessness with which you employ cruelty to kill my fellow Eliksni…”

Misraaks releases a slow breath. The Guardian is staring at him, its flat helmeted face entirely expressionless - a cold expanse of white splashed with reddish purple.

“It brings to me a feeling of unease. Not one that is necessarily of your own fault, rather, but nonetheless. These were my people once, and for each youngling with docked arms that is slain…” the Eliksni looks away, concerning himself not to show too much emotion in front of the human. “I wonder if they could have been saved. If we could have taken them in. Fed them. Helped them grow into something more.”

He looks back at the Guardian, who is motionless for a moment, hand cannon still in hand. Then,

“I’m sorry,” comes a cold, filtered voice out of the recesses behind the helmet.

Misraaks nods and turns toward the door. “Let us continue.”

The Guardian did not sound sorry at all.

I … have no idea why I drew this.

Enjoy!

Source