OP: Another year has passed, time to make another natural freezer

[eng by me]

This is brilliant but the energy sticker at the end KILLED me.🤣

Since people are asking to bring back 2016, can this website make Josh Johnson the new John Mulaney when it comes to favorite comedian? He’s probably one of the funniest comedians I’ve ever seen who spends every set somehow tying in important current social issues and spreading such important lessons without it feeling like a lecture. His most recent set discussed both ICE (including your rights, lesser known incidents, and its implications) as well as the topic of gang violence and gang recruitment. He’s black and has described working his way up from basically nothing and has created a social media presence that speaks to pretty much everyone.

Once in a while, I see a clip of his sets get a lot of notes on here, but there’s very little hype around him and it’s odd because he says pretty much everything most people on this site stand for in an accessible, super entertaining way.

In an act of revenge and hatred, a warrior murdered the wife of his sworn enemy in order to hurt his prey. Now, the ghost of the wife follows the warrior, refusing to leave his side.

"You're not even going to wash your hands?" she says, voice echoing down a corridor far too long and distant to sit safely into the dimension of time as we know it. It scrapes as it wanders, brushing against the edges of things that hide in the folds of time and coming out less human with each bump.

He spits.

"I am a Warrior of the Holy Smite, One Carved of Iron and Blood, Burned by the Moon. I do not need to wash my hands."

"Smite shite," she answers back, voice now behind one shoulder, now behind the other. "It's bacteria and you're going to get it all up in the lovely food and make yourself sick on it."

"Woman!" he thundered. "I am Third Dane of the Elderwood! I fear no bacteria!"

"Well, its none of my say, that's for sure," time folded itself into her words and warped the sound of them. "Far be it from me, a mere housewife who kept her husband and five children healthy and hale all the days of their lives and never lost one of them in all that time to be telling a Daaaaaaane to wash his ugly paws or he'll be bent over a bush for the next day and a half, spattering his inside out. Go ahead with yourself and eat your meat half cooked and covered in filth. Just know that I'll be there the entire time you're painting the landscape with farts and sharts telling you 'I told you so'."

The Warrior of the Holy Smite, One Carved of Iron and Blood, Burned by the Moon, Third Dane of the Elderwood washed his hands. He even used soap.

"Shouldn't you - hate me?" The Warrior of Holy Smite, Third Dane of the Elderwood was a bit in his cups, to use a phrase instead of saying 'melancholy drunk'. If it was because he felt guilt no one in the now abandoned room of the tavern brought it up. Mostly because they were either all unconscious, dead or taking in the fresh air by running for their lives. "I did kill you after all."

"Well I am a bit put out," the voice came from inside his head and outside his head and somewhere far away all at the same time. It didn't sound bitter however. It sounded - round. Round and stout and fluffy and solid despite the fact it was coming from the edges of what we called time. "I was enjoying being alive. But you made it fast and you didn't pretend you were going to diddle me before killing me so - that was refreshing. Plus you made my man so happy." There was a sigh, somewhere echoing and long enough to feel physical, sending the chill down the back of his neck and along his spine. "You made my man so very happy. He had really started to lose his way. My big bear, no more giants to slay or dragons to steal from. Getting rather bored trying to make wood working a lifestyle with those horrid, sad, sweet little toys he kept trying to carve." The love in the voice somehow filled the broken room.

Somehow filled the great gaping hole in his chest that wasn't there but just felt like it was all the time.

"You should have seen the sparks come back to his eyes the first time you tried to kill him. Oh, you were just a kitten back then, full of nothing but bluster and fire but you were so serious! He was so proud of you and so delighted you'd decided he was going to be your sworn enemy for life."

Again the sigh. Again the wave of love washing out somehow pink despite love not having a color.

"You almost killed him, not that long ago. That time over on the Wash of Grey near Smigglemead. If he hadn't fallen in the Wash you probably would have. Oh, he was a sight when I found him. Weak as a baby rabbit for weeks afterward. We were both so happy I got the chance to coo over him and berate him and spoil him rotten. Such a sweet man..."

The voice trailed off and so did the warmth in the room, retreating back to where it belonged instead of spilling out everywhere. The hole that wasn't really there throbbed its reminder. This had been the worst, most precious haunting Third Thane could imagine enduring and it wasn't at all what he'd been expecting when he'd cut the Hag down and released the crows that had been living inside her body. He ran his arm across his nose, heard her make a 'tch' sound at him for messing up the shirt she'd nagged him into buying instead of the half-cured wolf skin he'd been wearing before.

It was warmer and softer against his skin. Not to mention the itching had gone down.

"Maybe I shouldn't have killed you?" he suggested and for the first time he heard her laugh. It was grinding river rocks tumbling in a current, gurgling darkness and the last bubbling breaths of a drowning man wrapped in river weed. It tugged at that hole in his chest and he was confused to find he wished he could still smile.

"Oh probably not," her voice whispered it from the shadows in the rafters and under the poorly sealed window frames. "But its not so bad, now that its happened. My big bear will be along shortly to kill you so you and I won't be together too much longer. It was nice to travel though. Haven't done that since I was young."

Somewhere, far off in the distant night, there was the sound of a horse snorting fire from its nostrils. For the first, and last, time in his life, the Warrior of Holy Smite, One Carved of Iron and Blood, Burned by the Moon considered running.

Not because of who was coming for him.

But because he was afraid of what the hole in his chest would do once his Haunt was taken from him.

I know it's been an age, but next installment of the Foster Care AU is up!

Gravitation of Potential

Summary:

It's Shiro's first semester of college, and his plan of attack is basically to work hard and avoid notice.

A plan that is derailed when he somehow catches the attention of Dr. Najia Black, famed physicist and a notoriously tough professor.

Except she seems to see something in Shiro no one else does—and that she sees in no one else. But is that a good thing? Shiro's past experience has him more than a little wary...

Chapter 1

Okay so I loved Dr. Black so much that I just had to make an attempt at drawing her. She is very very cool and I'm really looking forward to future chapters!!

I'M SCREAMING!!! SHE IS SO BEAUTIFUL! YOU CAPTURED HER SOOOOO WELL!! I can't believe you made fan art of my fic, but she is AMAZING. Love the color pallets you chose, and she looks exactly as regal as I imagined her!!!

support your local libraries

between this and the library that did the "what would we grab in a fire" video (that later ironically actually had a fire), I think librarians promoting their libraries might be the funniest people on the internet.

In an act of revenge and hatred, a warrior murdered the wife of his sworn enemy in order to hurt his prey. Now, the ghost of the wife follows the warrior, refusing to leave his side.

"You're not even going to wash your hands?" she says, voice echoing down a corridor far too long and distant to sit safely into the dimension of time as we know it. It scrapes as it wanders, brushing against the edges of things that hide in the folds of time and coming out less human with each bump.

He spits.

"I am a Warrior of the Holy Smite, One Carved of Iron and Blood, Burned by the Moon. I do not need to wash my hands."

"Smite shite," she answers back, voice now behind one shoulder, now behind the other. "It's bacteria and you're going to get it all up in the lovely food and make yourself sick on it."

"Woman!" he thundered. "I am Third Dane of the Elderwood! I fear no bacteria!"

"Well, its none of my say, that's for sure," time folded itself into her words and warped the sound of them. "Far be it from me, a mere housewife who kept her husband and five children healthy and hale all the days of their lives and never lost one of them in all that time to be telling a Daaaaaaane to wash his ugly paws or he'll be bent over a bush for the next day and a half, spattering his inside out. Go ahead with yourself and eat your meat half cooked and covered in filth. Just know that I'll be there the entire time you're painting the landscape with farts and sharts telling you 'I told you so'."

The Warrior of the Holy Smite, One Carved of Iron and Blood, Burned by the Moon, Third Dane of the Elderwood washed his hands. He even used soap.

"Shouldn't you - hate me?" The Warrior of Holy Smite, Third Dane of the Elderwood was a bit in his cups, to use a phrase instead of saying 'melancholy drunk'. If it was because he felt guilt no one in the now abandoned room of the tavern brought it up. Mostly because they were either all unconscious, dead or taking in the fresh air by running for their lives. "I did kill you after all."

"Well I am a bit put out," the voice came from inside his head and outside his head and somewhere far away all at the same time. It didn't sound bitter however. It sounded - round. Round and stout and fluffy and solid despite the fact it was coming from the edges of what we called time. "I was enjoying being alive. But you made it fast and you didn't pretend you were going to diddle me before killing me so - that was refreshing. Plus you made my man so happy." There was a sigh, somewhere echoing and long enough to feel physical, sending the chill down the back of his neck and along his spine. "You made my man so very happy. He had really started to lose his way. My big bear, no more giants to slay or dragons to steal from. Getting rather bored trying to make wood working a lifestyle with those horrid, sad, sweet little toys he kept trying to carve." The love in the voice somehow filled the broken room.

Somehow filled the great gaping hole in his chest that wasn't there but just felt like it was all the time.

"You should have seen the sparks come back to his eyes the first time you tried to kill him. Oh, you were just a kitten back then, full of nothing but bluster and fire but you were so serious! He was so proud of you and so delighted you'd decided he was going to be your sworn enemy for life."

Again the sigh. Again the wave of love washing out somehow pink despite love not having a color.

"You almost killed him, not that long ago. That time over on the Wash of Grey near Smigglemead. If he hadn't fallen in the Wash you probably would have. Oh, he was a sight when I found him. Weak as a baby rabbit for weeks afterward. We were both so happy I got the chance to coo over him and berate him and spoil him rotten. Such a sweet man..."

The voice trailed off and so did the warmth in the room, retreating back to where it belonged instead of spilling out everywhere. The hole that wasn't really there throbbed its reminder. This had been the worst, most precious haunting Third Thane could imagine enduring and it wasn't at all what he'd been expecting when he'd cut the Hag down and released the crows that had been living inside her body. He ran his arm across his nose, heard her make a 'tch' sound at him for messing up the shirt she'd nagged him into buying instead of the half-cured wolf skin he'd been wearing before.

It was warmer and softer against his skin. Not to mention the itching had gone down.

"Maybe I shouldn't have killed you?" he suggested and for the first time he heard her laugh. It was grinding river rocks tumbling in a current, gurgling darkness and the last bubbling breaths of a drowning man wrapped in river weed. It tugged at that hole in his chest and he was confused to find he wished he could still smile.

"Oh probably not," her voice whispered it from the shadows in the rafters and under the poorly sealed window frames. "But its not so bad, now that its happened. My big bear will be along shortly to kill you so you and I won't be together too much longer. It was nice to travel though. Haven't done that since I was young."

Somewhere, far off in the distant night, there was the sound of a horse snorting fire from its nostrils. For the first, and last, time in his life, the Warrior of Holy Smite, One Carved of Iron and Blood, Burned by the Moon considered running.

Not because of who was coming for him.

But because he was afraid of what the hole in his chest would do once his Haunt was taken from him.

In an act of revenge and hatred, a warrior murdered the wife of his sworn enemy in order to hurt his prey. Now, the ghost of the wife follows the warrior, refusing to leave his side.

"You're not even going to wash your hands?" she says, voice echoing down a corridor far too long and distant to sit safely into the dimension of time as we know it. It scrapes as it wanders, brushing against the edges of things that hide in the folds of time and coming out less human with each bump.

He spits.

"I am a Warrior of the Holy Smite, One Carved of Iron and Blood, Burned by the Moon. I do not need to wash my hands."

"Smite shite," she answers back, voice now behind one shoulder, now behind the other. "It's bacteria and you're going to get it all up in the lovely food and make yourself sick on it."

"Woman!" he thundered. "I am Third Dane of the Elderwood! I fear no bacteria!"

"Well, its none of my say, that's for sure," time folded itself into her words and warped the sound of them. "Far be it from me, a mere housewife who kept her husband and five children healthy and hale all the days of their lives and never lost one of them in all that time to be telling a Daaaaaaane to wash his ugly paws or he'll be bent over a bush for the next day and a half, spattering his inside out. Go ahead with yourself and eat your meat half cooked and covered in filth. Just know that I'll be there the entire time you're painting the landscape with farts and sharts telling you 'I told you so'."

The Warrior of the Holy Smite, One Carved of Iron and Blood, Burned by the Moon, Third Dane of the Elderwood washed his hands. He even used soap.

"Shouldn't you - hate me?" The Warrior of Holy Smite, Third Dane of the Elderwood was a bit in his cups, to use a phrase instead of saying 'melancholy drunk'. If it was because he felt guilt no one in the now abandoned room of the tavern brought it up. Mostly because they were either all unconscious, dead or taking in the fresh air by running for their lives. "I did kill you after all."

"Well I am a bit put out," the voice came from inside his head and outside his head and somewhere far away all at the same time. It didn't sound bitter however. It sounded - round. Round and stout and fluffy and solid despite the fact it was coming from the edges of what we called time. "I was enjoying being alive. But you made it fast and you didn't pretend you were going to diddle me before killing me so - that was refreshing. Plus you made my man so happy." There was a sigh, somewhere echoing and long enough to feel physical, sending the chill down the back of his neck and along his spine. "You made my man so very happy. He had really started to lose his way. My big bear, no more giants to slay or dragons to steal from. Getting rather bored trying to make wood working a lifestyle with those horrid, sad, sweet little toys he kept trying to carve." The love in the voice somehow filled the broken room.

Somehow filled the great gaping hole in his chest that wasn't there but just felt like it was all the time.

"You should have seen the sparks come back to his eyes the first time you tried to kill him. Oh, you were just a kitten back then, full of nothing but bluster and fire but you were so serious! He was so proud of you and so delighted you'd decided he was going to be your sworn enemy for life."

Again the sigh. Again the wave of love washing out somehow pink despite love not having a color.

"You almost killed him, not that long ago. That time over on the Wash of Grey near Smigglemead. If he hadn't fallen in the Wash you probably would have. Oh, he was a sight when I found him. Weak as a baby rabbit for weeks afterward. We were both so happy I got the chance to coo over him and berate him and spoil him rotten. Such a sweet man..."

The voice trailed off and so did the warmth in the room, retreating back to where it belonged instead of spilling out everywhere. The hole that wasn't really there throbbed its reminder. This had been the worst, most precious haunting Third Thane could imagine enduring and it wasn't at all what he'd been expecting when he'd cut the Hag down and released the crows that had been living inside her body. He ran his arm across his nose, heard her make a 'tch' sound at him for messing up the shirt she'd nagged him into buying instead of the half-cured wolf skin he'd been wearing before.

It was warmer and softer against his skin. Not to mention the itching had gone down.

"Maybe I shouldn't have killed you?" he suggested and for the first time he heard her laugh. It was grinding river rocks tumbling in a current, gurgling darkness and the last bubbling breaths of a drowning man wrapped in river weed. It tugged at that hole in his chest and he was confused to find he wished he could still smile.

"Oh probably not," her voice whispered it from the shadows in the rafters and under the poorly sealed window frames. "But its not so bad, now that its happened. My big bear will be along shortly to kill you so you and I won't be together too much longer. It was nice to travel though. Haven't done that since I was young."

Somewhere, far off in the distant night, there was the sound of a horse snorting fire from its nostrils. For the first, and last, time in his life, the Warrior of Holy Smite, One Carved of Iron and Blood, Burned by the Moon considered running.

Not because of who was coming for him.

But because he was afraid of what the hole in his chest would do once his Haunt was taken from him.

Twenty-two: Do not forget the rest of Creation in the pursuit of your nemesis. Small kindnesses are the seed of grand consequences. Evil stays, Good compounds.

I'm Stuck on a Remote Island with the Male Leads

So there's this sub-genre of isekai manhwa that revolves around survival stories. Usually its the kind of setting where dungeons are popping up, spewing out monsters and our heroes have powers while things run a lot like a video game. And I really enjoy those. But sometimes you get a zombie apocalypse ie. The Male Leads Are Trapped in My House or... okay, most of the time its a zombie apocalypse. Not today however! Today we are Robinson Crusoe-ing this story.

Our story starts when our girl wakes up on a deserted island.

In her past life in the modern world, she was reading a book called Something More Important Than Survival and died while reading it. The good news is that, in her past life, our girl was a girl scout leader!

The book she was reading was about a saintess and five male leads all trapped together on a deserted island and their year long struggle to survive. Our girl has this nailed!

The bad news is:

It was an explicit reverse harem novel!

The SUPER bad news?

Our girl is not the heroine of the novel. She's the villainess, Margaret Rose Flone!

And she gets murdered halfway through the novel by the male leads that were going insane at the time.

Yeah, its our old friend the plot point 'Don't Get Murdered'!

No worries. Margaret remembers her past life outside of the book. The body she's currently in is ridiculously frail and out of shape but she knows how to survive in the wilderness and she's also aware of the plot beats of the story. She just needs to find the hidden cabin or the underground bunker that gets found toward the end of the book and lock herself in, safely avoiding all the male leads.

She especially needs to avoid Prince Enoch.

mmmmmm.

The problem is that, in the novel, Margaret was a stalker. She was interested in Enoch and even went so far as to buy a 'love potion' that she drugged him with - which he promptly had an allergic reaction to and almost died from. Sure, Margaret should have been punished but a powerful family with powerful money against a prince who was only just recognized by his father thanks to his lowly birth let her off without even a handslap. Enoch is NOT going to be happy to find his sasaeng has him on a deserted island. Margaret decides to do the sensible thing -

and run away.

this

does not

work.

Now here's when I started going from 'curious' to 'interested' in this story.

Enoch has every right to be horrified and suspicious of Margaret and in most stories he would spend the next twenty or so chapters making snarky comments, doubting her every word and generally being an asshole who can't help but protect her. Margaret would in turn deny she was involved and yet trust 'vibes' alone to prove her innocence and withhold information to draw the plot out.

Instead

Yep! That's right, my friends. The characters actually use logic, listen to what the other is saying and work it out. In two panels! Suddenly I was engaged!

Smart characters?! Acting smart?!? What the hell?!!!

In fact, they continue to act smart and Enoch continues to listen to what Margaret says.

You know, all except for letting her run away on her own.

I'm enjoying this story because it is NOT dragging me through all the old 'make-the-story-unnecessarily-long' troupes. Enoch is a really good guy with a good heart and he's considerate of those around him. He's also traumatized, dealing with an island of monsters where magic doesn't work with his very own sasaeng by his side. He's not going to trust her immediately - but he is going to be considerate to her almost from the start. Margaret is doing her best to survive and work toward a very 'don't die' future but she's also considerate and soft-hearted. She's a bad ass survivalist but only in ways I will entirely believe a twiggy woman in a full fancy gown can be. And I absolutely love the way the relationship between Enoch and Margaret is developing. It's making sure the friendship is there and steady before it starts to build more. And, even more unusual in these types of stories, its not just the ML that's catching feels while you wonder if the FL even sees him as more than a step ladder. Margaret starts to look to him to make her feel safe and it blooms into just wanting to hang out with him. They actually like each other and in stories like these that's rare for a FL and ML, where half the plot is usually them bickering and doing cold things to each other. Nope. Not this one. They quickly form into a team that's built on looking out for each other and that's such a great breath of fresh air.

So is Margaret's response each time she runs into another of the male leads of the story.

RUN AWAY!

So far we've managed to avoid any jealously plot points because Maggie dips the second she sees one of the male leads that's not Enoch.

And I LOVE her for it!

Seriously though, I'm not asking this story to reinvent the wheel. I'm just asking it to give me the type of story I love with all the annoying bits taken out so I can just settle in an completely enjoy myself.

So far, it is delivering beautifully.

rating: PG

warnings: stalking, drugging, violence, blood, monsters, an island that can mentally attack you, war trauma, blood trauma, mental snap, mental illness, ankles drawn so skinny you worry about how she walks, wolf death

finished: just started

abs?: chapter 15

again and again and again and again

someone get me a picture of this applying to a very haggard and yet determined guy driving the bus please!

In an act of revenge and hatred, a warrior murdered the wife of his sworn enemy in order to hurt his prey. Now, the ghost of the wife follows the warrior, refusing to leave his side.

"You're not even going to wash your hands?" she says, voice echoing down a corridor far too long and distant to sit safely into the dimension of time as we know it. It scrapes as it wanders, brushing against the edges of things that hide in the folds of time and coming out less human with each bump.

He spits.

"I am a Warrior of the Holy Smite, One Carved of Iron and Blood, Burned by the Moon. I do not need to wash my hands."

"Smite shite," she answers back, voice now behind one shoulder, now behind the other. "It's bacteria and you're going to get it all up in the lovely food and make yourself sick on it."

"Woman!" he thundered. "I am Third Dane of the Elderwood! I fear no bacteria!"

"Well, its none of my say, that's for sure," time folded itself into her words and warped the sound of them. "Far be it from me, a mere housewife who kept her husband and five children healthy and hale all the days of their lives and never lost one of them in all that time to be telling a Daaaaaaane to wash his ugly paws or he'll be bent over a bush for the next day and a half, spattering his inside out. Go ahead with yourself and eat your meat half cooked and covered in filth. Just know that I'll be there the entire time you're painting the landscape with farts and sharts telling you 'I told you so'."

The Warrior of the Holy Smite, One Carved of Iron and Blood, Burned by the Moon, Third Dane of the Elderwood washed his hands. He even used soap.

The era of magic has arrived. ✨ With a foreword written by Mel's character designer, @/eveningmonteiro, join our 40+ contributors in a celebration of Runeterra's brightest star. Secure your copy today! 💛

🌟 Luminous, Always: Limited Bundle ($70)

Shine bright with our Limited Bundle! ✨ 'Luminous, Always' is our most 'stellar' package & includes two limited items: an enamel charm by @/AudreyTakada and an acrylic standee by @/melstinkss_!

💫 Eligible for all stretch goals!

🌟 Arcane's Light: Full Bundle ($60)

Let the Arcane stir within you with our Full Bundle. ✨ Effortlessly reflect anything that comes your way with a bundle that includes the physical zine and all merch!

💫 Eligible for all stretch goals!

⭐️ Sun's Embrace: Half Bundle ($35)

May the light of the Medardas protect you with our Half Bundle. ✨ 'Sun's Embrace' includes the physical zine and a selection of physical merch.

💫 Eligible only for three stretch goals!

⭐️ Fox's Favored: Paper Bundle ($25)

Be swift and cunning with our Paper Bundle. ✨ Dedicated to those with tender hearts, 'Fox's Favored' includes the physical zine plus some of our flat merch items!

💫 Eligible only for only two stretch goals!

⭐️ Wolf's Delight: Digital Bundle ($20)

Stand tall as a proud member of House Medarda with our Digital Bundle. ✨ From digital emojis to a Printable Paper Doll of Mel, 'Wolf's Delight' has you covered.

💫 This bundle is not eligible for any stretch goals.

⭐️ Early Bird Special!

All ✨ PHYSICAL ✨ orders placed in the first 48 hours* will receive this cool, pun intended, sticker by @gcldquartz! 🌟

❄️ *The 48 hours period is inclusive of early access pre-orders. To be eligible for the Early Bird, order by 1/14 before 10AM CST.

⭐️ Stretch Goals!

Help us unlock even more goodies with every physical order milestone! ✨ Carefully read bundle descriptions to know which SGs it is eligible for.

💫 melmedardazine.company.site

25 LIMITED BUNDLES LEFT MEL NATION!!! 🙀✨

Just bought mine!

Thank you for your support! 🥰✨

After your death, you get summoned into another world. A world in which fierce dragons, honorable knights and mighty magic is daily business. The magic is cast using spoken spells. If only they knew you were a double-time rapper in your past life.

and the most important thing to remember is that on the relatively unpopular social media site “tumblr” there is a user named evilwizard who will take care of you. and he will never lie to you

So, how do I die?

vampire/train incident. sorry

Artober day 19: Generations

(I love this meme, so I had to draw another version with smol Minato and Jiraiya xD)