#and im weird for wanting to be bit??

[propertyofsamcollins]

I'm sorry, but Quinn kink shaming Darlin' is so fucking crazy to me😭

Sir, you kill people for funsies??? And you're trying to shame me for liking biting??

Like the audacity of that man is so crazy

You're literally bound to a chair and about to be executed for your crimes, and you're calling me a pain freak??? You like to watch people without their knowledge sir, please take several seats 😭

[hinamie]

atla!au designs part 3 !! one of these things is uh. not like the others

first year trio gojo/choso/nanami

[bacchuschucklefuck]

gukgak specifically from my typing (man w/ three jobs & a creeping sense of dread)

[tomatoart]

wait getting ur ass beat is an adhd trait ?!

[iraprince]

ALSO being on bluesky is reminding me i used to be on social media bc it was kind of fun. i used to be less scared of strangers and of talking to ppl. i have already rambled about this at length other times but i am thinking abt it again relative to necrotech99 and how excited i am abt it. it makes me wanna talk abt my stuff again.... (not TOO much bc i don't like unduly influencing quest suggestions/audience participation lol. like one thing i want to avoid from the tvrn era is it was really fun to answer so many behind-the-scenes questions, but i did end up eventually feeling like it created a situation where like... ppl who followed me on social media were having a rly different experience w the story, and had way more info, than ppl just following the thread, and i don't love cultivating/encouraging that kind of divide?)

anyway. thinking about that again. bc i used to talk abt tvrn all the time and promo it like crazy. and i even remember sometimes thinking to myself "damn where did i get all that energy bc lately promoing stuff/remembering to boost things online is such a drag and a chore and i hate it." and now that im on the necrotech grind im like oh yeah it was easy for me to remember to promo it bc i was.... genuinely promoing it... like i was genuinely eager to re-reblog stuff over and over and get more eyes on it bc i wanted really really badly for ppl to read and suggest!!!!! vs w work stuff a lot of times it's like. "[HEAVING A SIGH] i guess i should re-reblog stuff for Engagement and Visibility and Reach" in an abstract "maybe this will help me out jobwise? maybe someone will see my stuff and want to hire me, or find my itch and buy some games?" vs the DIRECT "i am hyping this up bc i want ppl to look at it now now NOW NOW NOW NOW :D NOW" that i feel when im rly into a quest

[killjoy-prince]

House M.D. but it's when a character says the name of the episode

[blighted-lights]

the way that ravage clearly loves and idolizes megatron genuinely makes me ill you have no idea. like this is someone who clearly still adores megatron despite being betrayed by him. and on the other side, the way megatron interacts with ravage in this entire scene is so,,, he's tired. he isn't at all what ravage idolizes and he knows that. he doesn't know what he is anymore but he's not the valiant savior ravage needs and wants him to be, and he Knows it.

ravage is clinging to a version of megatron that no longer exists (or maybe never did in the first place, and only existed in ravage's mind) and megatron no longer has anything to cling to so he rejects his past completely. these two make me ill.

[premamelody]

derg

[sad-leon]

This poll inspired by a discord convo i watched happen,, somewhere,,, <- i forgor what server it was in, but i've been meaning to make this poll for a while

[razzafrazzle]

can't stop thinkin of you!

[image description: a collage piece featuring homestar and strong bad from homestar runner. on the right is 3d art of homestar smiling openly with a thought bubble filled with pixel art of the two inside. next to that is wavy text that says "i know, i know we always wrestle, i know sometimes i put up a fight, i know, i know we always tussle, but maybe it's because i love you", with 3d text below that that says "sorry bro, i love you!". behind the 3d text is 3d art of a cloud and a rainbow, with a small, indignant 3d strong bad sitting on top. the canvas is littered with small hearts and stars, and the entire piece is colorful and heavily saturated. end id]

[xxplastic-cubexx]

what kind of underwear do you think Erik and Charles wear (i'm not asking this to see them half naked) ((please believe me)) (((PLEASE)))

My Personal Belief is charles is a briefs guy while erik's a trunks guy. trunks/briefs kinda couple because i can

and idk just a lil bonus or somethin. as i do.

[not-another-robin]

Hey can everybody turn around and not look at my blog real quick. Thanks

IM GONNA THROW UP

BRUCE TIMM IN IN YOUR FUCKING WALLS

FAT ALFRED WIN FATHER ALFRED FAIL!!!!!!!!

[mazken]

brush test slash rendering practice with ayem

[egoarc4de]

homecoming

[plant-ago]

An Open Letter to Dan and Phil

Dear beloved nerds,

This was originally going to be an (even longer) actual letter that I was going to give to you at the tour, but my nonprofit-employed ass can’t afford a meet and greet, so we’re doing this instead. I promise it’s not just trauma dumping— mostly, it’s about saying thank you and trying to cultivate some hope for all of us.

I’ve been a big fan since around 2014, when I was a mentally ill neurotic deeply repressed loner egg (average phannie, let's be honest). Now I’m a whole adult who got therapy and HRT and has joined the legions of transmascs with the Dan Howell haircut! What a legacy.

I’m making jokes because the thing I actually want to talk about, and the reason I decided to make this an open letter, is kind of serious. But in light of the election, I feel like I need to share this, both with you and with all the other queers in this little corner of the internet.

Here’s the gist: I’m a paralegal at a non-profit organization that works to help queer migrants get asylum. Mostly what I do is sit them down in our nasty sterile office and try to be kind, and help them get through telling me all the most terrible things that have happened to them, and then turn around and pare it all down into legalese that is digestible to the government to make the case they should get asylum.

It’s a horrible job, really, and one that shouldn’t have to exist. Some parts are plainly wonderful, like meeting so many queer people from all walks of life. But it’s also heartrending and difficult, and burnout is always looming. My horrible banal work is often literally a matter of life and death for the client, and I’m fighting a broken system for a chance at giving them the happiness and safety is owed to them by international law and, really, by any decent human standard, should never have been in question.

The thing is—and this is reason to hope—queer people really do exist everywhere, no matter how much repression and violence we face. In a tiny village in Colombia, there's a kid who’s all spit and vinegar, dresses like a boy and plays football and fights anyone who says that they can’t, who grows up wiry and gets black eyes because men still can’t handle getting their asses handed to them on the soccer field by a dyke. This client texts me at my work number sometimes to ask if I’ve eaten that day, because they wanted to check in on me. He asked me to call him by a boy’s name, recently. I don’t know that he’s told anyone else. I open every message I send him with "Hola, James."

Then there’s the sweet, babyfaced college freshman who got death threats when he was outed to his classmates back home, and whose parents kicked him out when he refused to marry a girl to protect the family's reputation, leaving him alone in a foreign country. He was couch surfing and just trying not to miss class so he could keep his student status and he was so conscientious I wanted to cry— he’s eighteen, guys. Eighteen. I’ll get him his papers or so help me fucking God I will kill for him. You know? You know. After that meeting I had to sit at my desk with my notebook and fill an entire blank page with the phrase “he’s just a kid,” over and over again, until I felt like I could breathe.

On a Friday morning recently I get up and open my laptop to interpret on a call with a soft-spoken older trans woman who's sat in the bleak phone room of the ICE detention facility because her immigration judge didn’t believe that she was really transgender. “An odor of mendacity pervades everything the respondent says,” the judge wrote in her ruling, where she determined the client wasn't "credible." To this day I’m still floored that she straight up ripped off Tennessee Williams—new frontiers in bigotry, truly. She didn’t even cite. In our meeting now, the client quietly tells us how hard it was when she came out but how happy she was the first time she wore makeup, and she'd rather stay in detention here for indeterminate years as proceedings spiral on than go back to Guatemala, where they'll kill her—boys, if I ever get within spitting distance of this fuckass judge, it is on SIGHT. Absolutely fucking ON SIGHT. For legal purposes, that was a JOKE.

So I finish the call and get up to get a snack. It’s only ten am but feel tired already because I’m angry, which is not unusual but also not something I want to hold onto, because it doesn't help anything. So I make some toast and look at my phone— two texts, which I ignore, a spam email, and, wouldn't you know it, a YouTube notification from Dan and Phil games! Jarring! That’s just sort of how life is though, isn’t it? Deathly serious and lighthearted in the same breath.

But regardless, seeing the notification makes me feel warm, so I have my toast and watch a little video of you two playing Roblox or dress up or whatever it is you do on that channel these days. I have a good giggle and I finish my toast and go back to my desk. It’s a crucial part of my diet really— the giggles, not the toast. I’m not angry anymore. I’ll be angry again, but for now my cortisol levels are manageable and I can put my head back into emails or whatever the fuck. Do you ever think about how plants make food for free out of sunlight but we sit around writing emails all day? And that’s if we’re lucky. Capitalism is hell.

Anyway, there is a point I am trying to make, and it’s not really about the banal horrors of neoliberal nation-state or capitalism or even homophobia. It’s to say thank you for coming back to make silly videos together, because I love them, and you never fail to make me happy. And yeah, maybe something about the story of that scared eighteen-year-old kid at the front of my mind makes it particularly sweet to watch you two goofing off and being openly queer. It reminds me why I’m doing what I’m doing, and it gives me the strength to send another fucking email because sometimes doing “important work that I value and believe in deeply” means having to send another fucking email. And sometimes I’ll rewatch your older videos, and then come back to the more recent ones, and my heart bruises, because you remind me what I’m fighting for and why. It’s nothing grandiose, it’s just— for queer people to get to have the ability to grow into themselves and be outrageous and silly and make mistakes and to love and be loved for who they are. To have the safety and support and security that no one should ever go without. That’s all.

So I am being dead serious when I say thank you for making top-tier light entertainment, and for coming back to a job that wasn’t always kind to you, and that it does actually matter. All this talk about terrible influences and legacies has made me think that sometimes you doubt whether you do good in the world, so let me be clear: you really, really do. I kind of get the sense that in order to accept sincerity Dan needs to be beat over the head with it, so if that’s the case, consider yourself coerced, you dickhead. You matter to me, and especially in times like these, I think I speak for all of us when I say that the joy you share is a precious and treasured gift. So please accept my gratitude in return.

All my love,

Jules

(I removed or changed all identifying information in this letter to protect privacy, but the stories are real).

[blue-thief]

the way i can't tell if this is real or just ness's biased POV