#YEAH IM MAINTAGGING WHAT OF IT

[12u3ie]

Guys c’mon, we all know Joe Hills doesn’t have a chest, it’s see-through at all times c’mon don’t let the sexyman competition fool you,

[noxious-fennec]

Tntduo in 1920's dresses galore (+ regular designs cus I couldn't resist)

[ella-ashmore]

BREAKING NEWS !!!! all of them are jewish

[st4rstudent]

Various other one-sided swap doodles inspired by oomfs comments

[cat-downthestreet]

seriously why does no one mention this??? the information is so easy to find too like are y'all forgetting on purpose or was I not supposed to give a crap about the opinion of one of the main writers for the series 💀

[pulchrasilva]

William Wisp: ghost cock 🤝 Arthur Bennett: shadow cock

(Also crushing levels of guilt for existing)

[the-clay-quarters]

today on What Is This Supposed To Be: Sskies Edition

what is going on with the cabin on the spatchcock,,, the 2 heights one makes more sense but then again in the art the front piece looks different/separate to the side pieces,,,

(and yes they're likely roof overhangs but the heights are still the issue)

I also feel the need to say that these things are Huge. usually train cabins fit like 2-3 people at most, but look at this beast

thats a whole person standing there! this is Not a normal sized cabin and its causing me so many issues

[hewmitcwaft]

FUCKING TELL US ABOUT THE COPPER INLAYS

OKAY BEAST CALM DOWN HERES AN INFOGRAPHIC THING I HOPE THIS FEEDS YOU WELL

[mcybree]

this scott 3l rewatch it so so strange. i was right with my original notes, their relationship does not read nearly as scary from the scott pov and im really wondering why this is. My first theory was that it was an editing style thing or a background music thing or maybe the specific scenes that are missing but now that I’m really thinking about it I Dont Know

[red-might-be-dead]

imagine if like after rand nearly shot rolan he like stared at him, ears ringing, eyes wide and rolan stared back at him, covered in mud, panting and they both looked deep into each others eyes and like rand said “holy shit, im so sorry, what the fuck” and he like put his head in his hands and started shaking and then like rolan walked up to him and awkwardly hugged him, he was still shaking probably too from the shock of nearly getting shot but he slowly stroked rands hair and whispered to calm him down and like then rand would return the hug and like start crying and shit and then they’d both realise this is the first time they’d hugged in over ten years because they stopped touching each other really around the time they turned 15 because they both realised how much they liked it and it scared them, then they like looked at each other, crying, shaken and afraid, holding each other firmly in their arms, and realised this was also the first time they’d felt this safe in ten years, despite the fact they were in the middle of a road in a monster filled town ahahaha like imagine if that happened ahhahahahahaa wouldn’t that be crazy dont forget to like comment and subscribe you guys!!!

[redstone-sun]

*banging pots and pans* ISKALL POSTED GO SAY SOMETHING NICE IN HIS COMMENTS

[startsbeatboxing]

virion doodle (his job is having a morality crisis)

[3-inch-doodles]

well SOMEONE had to get the cyrus treatment in the au. unforseen consequences or whatever

[art-leon]

hm . thinking abt thaumhorizons reincarnation

[psi-spectacular]

yuri if it was mid

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

sometimes that's just the way that it goes

or, joel smallishbeans joins the tokyo lift (an mcyt blaseball au fic)

the thing about joel is- well, there's a lot of things about joel, but the most relevant thing, is that he never really got in to blaseball.

he'd gone to few of grian and jimmy's games in college, been brought to an equal number of pearl's minor league games, and mostly paid attention in conversation about it after his entire friend group became obsessed with the splort seemingly overnight.

but then he'd moved out to tokyo after college, where the blaseball scene had yet to expand to a proper minor league; let alone a major league. he got a non-splorts related job. he had non-splorts related hobbies. and he was suddenly in a timezone 17 hours ahead from all his friends who cared about these things.

so maybe he managed to forget basically all the knowledge he had about the game. sue him.

by the time the ILB expanded to tokyo with the lift, joel was certainly more knowledgeable on the splort than he'd ever been. he had basically the entire league's schedule in his calendar at all times, he voted in the elections, he kept a close eye on weather forecasts across the globe. a small side effect of most of your friends playing a splort that started killing people 10 years ago.

but here's the thing- despite joel's expansive knowledge of what's happening the ILB on any given day, despite his stockpile of votes, despite his constant presence as someone's plus one at any given ILB event or party-

despite all of that...

joel doesn't really know how to play.

which is a problem, when, on a whim that he now knows was definitely some divine intervention at play, he decides to actually go to one of his friend's games on a day they happen to be playing in tokyo. and it becomes more of a problem when an umpire goes rogue, and in the blink of an eye, joel finds himself vaulting a railing and picking up a bat that, until two minutes ago, belonged to a toyko lift player.

and now belongs to a new tokyo lift player.

him.

shit.

and that is how joel finds himself here, on a stool in stress and false's bathroom, staring at his actively-being-dyed hair in the mirror and considering.

he didn't know stress and false very well before joining the lift. he'd met them, of course, at the aforementioned parties and events he'd been brought to, but they weren't close by any means. but seeing as they were the only members of his new team he'd been properly introduced to prior to becoming their coworker, he found himself following them around like a lost puppy from day one. they seemed mostly endeared by this, so far, which joel was taking as an embarrassing but necessary fact of his new career.

the "sitting in their bathroom getting his hair dyed" part of his current situation had come about a few days prior, when the wild card teams were announced and the lift had officially made their first ever post season. joel's remark that they should do something for the occasion had spiraled into stress lending him her bathroom and hair dye to dye the streak in his hair pink in celebration.

by the time they actually got around to it, the lift had been knocked out of the post season by the wild wings in a two game sweep, but joel hadn't backed out, so here they were.

stress was mixing the pink dye while joel got the green bleached out of his hair, humming along to a song joel wasn't really listening to. the bathroom isn't large enough to fit false as well, with joel on a stool, so she's hovering outside doing... something. joel's kinda lost track of her exact movements due to his aforementioned considering.

joel hasn't actually played a lot with the lift, yet. he'd joined the team in the last 20 days or so of the season, so they've gotten a good 20 games worth of a look at his... let's say, skill, and they've all presumably figured out that he's not very good. no one's said anything, but that doesn't mean they haven't been thinking it. but it's also possible they haven't been thinking it, and if joel brings it up right now, then they'll all realize that he's terrible. but also, joel knows he needs to fix this problem, because he's seen what happens to bad players.

so he's sucking it up.

"stress, can i admit something to you?" joel says, as confident and nonchalant as he can manage. it's not very nonchalant.

"hm?" stress says, looking up from where she's fidgeting about. "sure, i don't see why not."

joel takes a deep breath before he continues. "now, i don't know if any of you have noticed this yet, but... i don't really know how to play blaseball."

this is when false chooses to poke her head in from whatever she'd been doing to comment. "sorry, repeat yourself?"

"well, despite the fact that all of my friends have played this game for years, i haven't been paying much attention to how it actually works. so i don't think i actually know how to play, which wasn't a problem for me until about three weeks ago. and now it's a very big problem."

"oh," false says, looking him up and down. joel tries not to feel scrutinized. "i wouldn't have guessed that from your stats, but yeah, in hindsight, that makes sense."

"you looked at my stats?" joel sputters.

"yeah is that not-" false looks at stress, desperation clear on her face. "do people not usually do that?"

"i mean, i don't, but i don't know what all you other geezers are up to."

joel has yet to move on from the stats thing. "i haven't even looked at my stats. what- are they good? actually, no i don't want to know. or, if they're bad, i don't want to know. if they're good you can tell me."

false laughs. "you're fine, overall. not a good pitcher, but that's not your problem. everything else is pretty average, but your batting is your best stat, and it's pretty up there. not really indicative of someone who doesn't know how to play."

"oh!" joel thinks about this. he doesn't think he's been a particularly special batter thus far, but he's not objecting to whoever's quantifying his skill saying he's good. not at all. "ok, well, i kinda know how to play. i think. i know enough that i've been able to be passable, but i want to be good next season."

"are you asking us to coach you?" stress says as she starts the tap to wash the bleach out of joel's hair.

"uh, if you want to, yeah. you're both good, i think."

false, who is now leaning in the doorway instead of poking her head in, laughs again. "yeah, i'd say we're alright." from her tone, joel suspects they're actually very good, and he once again has no idea what he's talking about.

"but we'd love to!" stress says, lightly pushing joel to put his head into the sink. her next words are slightly drowned out by the running water. "obviously the lift practice in the off season already, but we could spend a bit of time doing one on one stuff with you. show you the ropes, you know?"

joel, still in the sink, answers with a thumbs up. as he sits back up and takes the towel stress offers him, he sees false leave the doorway and go back to whatever she was doing, decision seemingly reached.

joel dries off his hair and stress moves in with the pink dye and a dye brush, humming along to another song he doesn't know. he definitely doesn't need her help dying his hair- he's been doing it on his own for years now. but she'd offered the dye she already had so he didn't have to buy a new color, and apparently that offer came along with her doing most of the work as well.

and for once in his life, joel is going to take the help without a fuss.