#so why not post this shit on tumblr

[boobilby]

Being even more cringe than usual

Featuring my friends drawing of Joel, who I’m pretty sure they don’t even know, @dustystripe is the friend

[merlinsbed]

living in this house is exhausting

my dad and his wife have been on vacation for the last month and a half, meaning I’ve had the house completely to myself. within an hour getting home yesterday they both already managed to remind me that they think of me as a dumb baby who isn’t capable of doing anything.

there’s a pile of old recycling I’ve been slowly working my way through that’s currently in a room that is literally used for storage only. like this room is literally just for storing boxes and other shit. less than an hour after getting home and seeing the pile of recycling, my dad was going, “can I help you sort that out tomorrow?” like no??? I’m gonna be 30 in 2 days why the fuck would I need your help?????

his wife was even more of a bitch. I literally spent yesterday morning cleaning the kitchen and like I know it wasn’t perfect, but I wiped down the counters, I ran the dishwasher and put the dishes away, I washed all the towels and washcloths. About an hour after they got home, I went upstairs to see all the towels and washcloths had disappeared from the kitchen. when I opened the cabinet to get a plate, the ones I’d literally just ran through the dishwasher were all gone. opened the silverware drawer for a butter knife and almost everything was gone.

this woman literally said to herself, “I don’t trust my step daughter to do anything so I’m going to deep clean the kitchen myself because I know she didn’t do it to my neat freak standards” because she hates me. I’m not even joking I believe that woman hates me and thinks I’m just a stupid spoiled brat who spends my spare time coming up with ways to make her and my dad miserable. she does not speak to me unless she literally has no other choice.

and like, at this point, it’s not so much about my dad’s wife hating me or my dad being an asshole who makes only surface level attempts to understand me at all. it’s about the fact that they treat me like a stupid child. they treat me like I’m not capable of doing things for myself so either my dad has to help me or his wife has to just do it all again herself because to them I’ve proved myself too stupid to be treated like an adult. and it hit me especially hard yesterday because I had a month and half to actually do things in a way that works for me without constantly worrying about being nagged and looked down on and a part of me convinced myself that finally this might give them some fucking proof that I am a functioning adult but apparently not.

I literally talk to actual children more respectfully than my dad or his wife talk to me. that’s fucking sad. like it’s really pathetic of them. and it’s just super fucking frustrating for me.

[bixels]

For a moment I forgot Tumblr’s still radfem headquarters.

[stitchposts]

This is so obvious it's almost petty to talk about, but it keeps happening so I am increasingly faced with needing to decide to bring it up. Can everyone who advocates for not reposting art and for crediting artists start bringing that same energy to photographs of traditional art? Especially fiber arts and sewing related things, due to very prolific scraping accounts that repost things from elsewhere on the internet here to tumblr and a few years ago stopped crediting the artists at all. They never asked permission, but credit has just dried up entirely and it's galling to see.

I know non fiber artists don't really have the experience to see this, but just like visual arts, fiber artists develop pretty clear styles. So if a blog is posting elaborate pieces of infamously time consuming arts that cover a wide range of styles, once or twice a day, with no credits or discussion of themselves as an artist - that shit's stolen as fuck.

It feels like I'm going insane sometimes because thousands of people who otherwise yell all day about how artists need to be credited, just think that sewing related photographs pop into existence without needing to be linked to the person that made them.

[martyryo]

Mid study doodle 😔

I like to thing about Tyler flirting with narrator only when he's not aware of it, I imagined him complaining about public transportation and Tyler being all over him while he is too dense in the rant to process it.

Obv he realizes it later and goes insane 😼

[cheswirls]

short asl thing based on @where-does-the-heart-lie's modern au :) i started this over a year ago but the beginning is all dialogue and felt more like a script to me i suppose??? which deflated my desire to work on it. anyway i checked it over recently and it's completely fine lmfao, self-confidence restored here we go !

-

"Yo. Aren't you usually in the middle of your shift by now?"

"I've been banned from the hospital."

"Like, for life?"

"No. For the next, uh.. Twenty-two hours."

"That's oddly specific."

"It was twenty-four, but I fell asleep after leaving the building."

"That wouldn't have to do with why they kicked you out, at all?"

"Hmmm. I'm too sleep-deprived, apparently."

"Ah. And, um, you called me because...?"

"I pressed a random number in my call log after waking up. Lucky you, I guess."

"Yeah. Right. Lucky me. And your car keys are...?"

"Confiscated."

"Ah, right, of course."

A beat of silence. Two. Three, then "Look, if you're busy, then–"

"No, no.  You called me, so I'll be there. Give me twenty minutes."

"Alright. Thank–"

"Thank someone else. Also, if you fall asleep in my car, I'm taking it as express permission to drive you around wherever I want."

"Ugh, go die. I don't even know why I bothered."

"LUCKY YOU, I guess," sounds off way too loudly in his ear. "No take backs. See you in ten."

"I thought you said–" Sabo breaks off as the call ends, leaving him staring blankly at his phone's too-dim screen. He squints, turns the brightness all the way up, and still squints as the sunlight proves too strong for the display.

Ace shows up in more than ten but decidedly less than twenty minutes. Sabo doesn't waste much brain power on it, only climbing into the passenger seat and yawning into his palm while his other hand fixes the seatbelt into the buckle. Not a second too soon, too, as Ace roars the engine to life and peels away from the curb at record speed.

Ace fiddles with the radio. He turns the music up, then dial it back down to inaudible. They hit the expressway and he leans over the steering wheel, frowning with his eyes fixed on the road far ahead. Sabo yawns again and this appears to be the limit to his patience. 

"Hey, so, I had a thought after you hung up on me."

Sabo grimaces. "You mean you–"

"Today's Wednesday."

He doesn't elaborate. Sabo is too tired to process. "Yes," he follows, after a second. He glances at the sky out the front window. "What time is it?"

"Oh, uh." Ace fumbles with hand placement so he can lift his watch to his face. "Nine forty."

Sabo takes a couple beats to try and process this, moves his eyes away from the skyline, and sighs as he pulls his phone out. 2:47 is what the display reads, which sounds much more believable.

"How did the minute hand get off?" he mutters to himself, chancing a look at Ace's busted wristwatch. Ace raises a brow, taking his gaze off the road to scrutinize Sabo. "No, it doesn't matter," he mutters to himself once more, sliding his phone away back on his person and out of his hands.

"My point is," Ace continues, like he hasn't just been interrupted by a whole thing. "Your timeout will be done midday Thursday. Did they switch your days off?"

"No." Sabo sighs. "They technically gave me the next thirty-six hours. Technically closer to forty. Something like that. I go back in on Friday. Sometime.” He tries to smile and it turns out very lopsided, from that he can make out in the rearview mirror. “Can you tell I’m tired?”

“I don’t think ‘tired’ is an accurate description,” Ace quips. “When did you eat a proper meal last?”

“Uh, yesterday. Maybe.”

“Maybe??”

“A ‘proper meal’ means different things to the two of us,” Sabo huffs. “On my account it was yesterday. I’ve had food since then, of course.”

“Alright, so here’s the plan,” Ace announces before absolutely whipping it around a curve. Sabo is his passenger in the passenger seat and had fully prepared to be so when he got in the vehicle, but he’d been vastly underprepared for this sudden course of action, which is how he ends up halfway out of his seat with his cheek slammed into the cold window. Ace doesn’t quite notice his brother’s terminal velocity until the car is once again on the straight and narrow, and only then it’s because of the audible thunk Sabo’s face makes when it collides with the glass.

“Aw shit. You good bro?”

“Ow,” Sabo mutters. “If I have broken bones I’m suing your ass.”

“Well, if you’re good enough to make jokes, I think you’re better than you’re letting on.” Ace keeps the wheel steady with one knee while he takes both hands away to crack his fingers. When he glances over at Sabo again, he looks even more pathetic – like he’s becoming one with the glass. “Anyway, as I was saying.

“I’m taking your ass home. You’re going straight to sleep and while you crash, I’ll make you something decent to eat and stick it in the fridge for you to heat up later. I’ll even make you two servings to eat two different times, since you clearly can’t be trusted to take care of yourself correctly.”

“Ouch.”

“I want you to conk out for as long as your body allows. We can reset your sleep schedule tomorrow, alright? Put your phone on silent; do not answer any calls. In fact, you know what, just give it to me.

Sabo glances over to see Ace’s hand held out to him, palm up. Fingers wiggling expectantly. His lips pull up into a grimace. “I’m not doing that.”

“Fine.” Ace takes his hand back. “But you will comply with everything else.”

“Wow! It’s so funny, I didn’t realize you turned into my mother overnight! Really tapped into your mom potential, huh? Anything exciting happen in your life that would cause that? I guess I wouldn’t know, since I’ve been a zombie for the past two days.”

“There’s nothing wrong with acting like your older brother, you dipshit, especially if you keep putting yourself through the wringer like this. You go home. You sleep. You wake up and eat. You go back to sleep. Then we do laundry. Does that sound agreeable?”

“That’s negotiable, at the least,” Sabo mumbles. “I will accept good food as a form of bribery.”

“Oh, nice, because I’m flat broke at the moment.”

Sabo makes a mental note of that, and then they’re pulling into the driveway. Ace lets him exit the vehicle by himself and then promptly manhandles him all the way onto the couch where it will be easier to force his body to relax than in a real bed. Ace knows this, so he calls him weird before chucking a loose blanket at his head. Sabo is almost too tired to function at this point, so he lets Ace have the last laugh in favor of finally closing his eyes.

Coming to is a surreal experience, especially since the sun is still out. He must make a noise because Ace is suddenly within view. His limbs are tangled in the blanket and still so heavy that he doesn’t bother moving. “Thought you would be gone,” he half-groans, eyes slipping shut again for a moment.

“I did leave,” Ace confirms. “I had to go pilfer some stuff to make stew with. It’s almost done, so I’ll hang here until then.”

Pilfer. That could mean any number of things. Sabo chooses to believe in the option where Ace is an upstanding citizen, and then remembers Ace saying earlier that he had no money. He frowns and squirms on the cushions enough to where it looks like he’s checking his pockets. “Where’s my wallet, Ace?” he bluffs.

“Somewhere around here,” Ace pipes up. “Your stomach will thank you for your contributions to the Portgas Household’s pantry!”

“Ugh, I got robbed,” he complains. “This sucks. ‘m going back to sleep.” He rolls over so his back is to Ace.

“Yeah, you do you, bro. Stew will still be here later. I’ll see you when you’re back in the world of the living.”

—

Luffy comes in late that night and slams the front door shut as loud as humanly possible. When he appears in the main room, he doesn’t seem to be upset, so Ace writes it off as a Luffyism. Sabo hasn’t stirred at the noise, so it’s all good.

Realizing this, Luffy pads closer to Ace’s side and looks at Sabo’s unmoving body warily. “Why is Sabo passed out like a corpse? Is he sick?”

“No, he’s not sick, he just can’t take care of himself. Which is why we are going to let him sleep for as long as possible.”

Luffy just nods to this, but it’s the uncomprehending Luffy-nod that means he’s just going to end up doing whatever he wants to regardless. Ace sighs, then jerks his head towards the kitchen. “He ate a little earlier, but I want him to eat again when he wakes up. There’s stew in the fridge if you want it – just leave him a little. Got it, Monkey D. Luffy?”

Luffy throws him a salute and then runs off in his socks. “Yippee! Ace made stew!”

“Think of your brother, Luffy, and make good choices!” Ace calls after him. “He’s a pathetic man who needs food to feel better or he’ll end up sleeping through Laundry Day!”

—

Sabo does not sleep through laundry day, but he does sleep for sixteen whole hours, so it’s just around noon when he forces himself up off the couch and into a warm shower.

Ace is around, which is mildly unexpected. But he’s still half-asleep, so everything is at least a little unexpected. He glances up from playing video games with Luffy to see Sabo leaving the steam-filled bathroom with his hair hanging around his shoulders. “You look like a wet cat,” he calls.

“Sabo’s awake!” Luffy cheers. “Ace thought you died at one point.”

Ace elbows Luffy in the gut, making him hunch over. “I did not!”

“He totally checked to see if your heart was still beating!”

“I’m undead, actually,” Sabo says completely seriously.

“Does that mean you don’t need to eat anymore?” Luffy questions. “Because I ate all the stew last night.”

“I saw that coming and made extra.” Ace finger-guns in Sabo’s general direction. “That’s why I bought two sets of ingredients. With your money!”

“With my money,” Sabo echoes, because it’s such a wild statement to have to deal with this early in the day. Well, early for him. “Fuck you.”

“I mean, I can tell Luffy where I hid–”

“Thank you, Ace, for agreeing to share your quarters with both of your brothers so we can all do laundry today on your dime!” Sabo raises his pitch so his voice is mockingly squeaky when he says this. He starts moving down the hall before Ace can start to argue, letting his and Luffy’s voices bleed into the background.

When he comes back out, now dressed, it smells significantly better than before. “I reheated the stew,” Ace announces, gesturing for Sabo to take a seat at the kitchen counter. “Let’s all have lunch before we head out.”

“You have to drink this too,” Luffy tells Sabo, sliding a Gatorade across the counter so it sets in front of him when he finally does take a seat. “Ace’s orders.”

“Gotta get those nutrients back somehow.”

“Aren’t we so considerate, Sabo?”

“Do you even know what ‘considerate’ means?” Sabo asks, lips quirking up into a half-smile. At Luffy’s shrug, it turns into a real smile. “Well, thanks anyway. Both of you.”

“No sweat. And look!” Ace brandishes a five dollar bill for both to see. “I found this baby for us to use on coins! It’s all on me today–”

“Where’s my wallet, Ace?!”

[vpvrtment]

Recovery & a lot of change all at once.

NOT the comic i've been wanting to make and post but heres a comic about the last two years of my life; including my infamous former roommate twitter story thread, summarized & an unfortunate situationship.

[soup-fish]

Anti-shoutout to the hecklers at the Anaheim show

Several hecklers decided to keep yelling during the first part of the show and at some point, kept yelling so loud, Will stopped talking and they KEPT GOING! He then decided that since the hecklers had so many ideas for jokes, that they didn't need to hear his then.

We got our punchline privileges taken away because some people thought to ruin everyone else's show for what???

Thank goodness this got them to stop for the rest of the time but looking through other concert posts, there seems to have been a pretty big problem with heckling at other shows too?? Like. Everyone paid at least 50 dollars to see Will Wood, not you. Sing along, dance along, cheer, whoop, all fantastic! Don't shout things at him as he's talking.

At some point someone made a "YIPPEE" sound really loudly while he was talking and he stopped and said "I love paying 50 dollars to into a public place and quote memes" and honestly yeah.

If you're going to a future show of his, PLEASE don't heckle or shout anything but lyrics During the songs. Really tanked an AWESOME show for me.

[avephelis]

somehow forgot to post this for five months but DIGGING UP MY SPREAD FROM DONZINE ✌️✌️ which you can still check out btw!! donnie my garden warrior

[bookinit02]

genuinely i am going to say this once only because it’s the middle of the night but the level of tiktok hating i’ve seen on this app pisses me off so so so badly. you are not better than anyone else for not having tiktok downloaded, you are not smarter, you are not “more evolved.” tiktok is used by such a wide variety of people and of course there is low intelligence and empathy present on there, there is low intelligence and empathy EVERYWHERE. including here. there are also some of the kindest, most intelligent, most hopeful people i’ve ever seen. i do experience extremely low lows and high highs while scrolling tiktok because it is an insane range of content—it shows you pretty much everything you could ever imagine out of the range of human experience. i’ve seen a man who spent his life savings to buy out land and provide free housing for people. i’ve seen a woman document her journey to learn english and receive nothing but unconditional support and positivity. i’ve seen dogs learn how to “speak” and new mothers speaking openly about their depression and women encouraging each other to leave their abusive spouses. i have learned SO much in the last few years that i never learned in school. i guess really what i’m saying is that i don’t love the app itself so much as the power of human community, and it’s genuinely really upsetting and disheartening to see people continually shit on a platform that has done so much good for so many. it really does connect a lot of us to the world in a way that’s not comparably possible on any other app (yes, including this one), and i personally will be extremely upset if it really does get banned. not to mention how nobody should be championing government banning of any app, regardless of if you like it or not. just genuinely. can we cool it with the pretentiousness for a day or two. that is all i fucking want

[royaldollybox]

Good day, I bring ye more The heart killer text posts

This time featuring Kant and Style becuase I am facinated by their friendship

I have yet to recover from my madness

Post 1, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

[mossy-paws]

Sword PHIGHTING! period cramps moodboard

Gods mightiest warrior…….

Og image:

ANYWAYS EXTRA BITS!!!! So. Yeah. I wasted exactly 27 hours and 29 minutes of my life making this over a period of like. ~a week and a half LMAO????? I THINK IT WAS LONGER?? Yeah all of these are completely redrawn from the Og “panels”, replicating the dungeon meshi style is. MISERABLE I don’t know why I did this to myself holy fucking shit, all of you blame @squiffer-salad for this monstrosity she’s the reason why this exists in the first place /silly

anyways, I highly recommend looking at the panels individually because I put a lot of fun extra bits in them and just. A LOT of effort in general, any likes, reblog’s, or comments are insanely appreciated since this did take such a long time :’DDD, everything in these minus the backgrounds are completely redrawn/shaded/and colored by hand, this includes mid/screen tones as I used specific layers for those! anyways thank you for coming to my period cramp projection ted-talk I’m going back into my Everglade hole.

[raineandsky]

#120

When the villains caught wind of a new hero on the team, they’d all taken interest. When someone came back claiming he’s blind, it’d sparked a whole new debate.

Straightforward, they’d all said. He won’t even see us coming. They’d laughed at how easy it’d seemed.

The villain feels like they’ve stumbled on a pile of gold when they come across the hero. He’s running his hand along something on the fence in front of him, something that the villain will later realise is a braille description of the view ahead of him. A white cape drifts around his ankles, an equally white suit flattering against his typical heroic body, the lightest of smiles on his face as his fingers trace the patterns of dots along the railing.

The villain can’t help but grin as they slowly make their way towards the poor hero, so oblivious, so stupid. They’re barely a hair breadth away, their dagger practically unsheathing itself, when the hero spins towards them with a swish of his cape and a flick of a blade.

The villain barely reels back in time. Staying quiet doesn’t occur to them when they’re startled. The hero looks like he’s staring right through them, an arrogant smirk on his face.

“Ah,” he says brightly, “you’re one of those criminals I’m meant to be looking out for?”

The villain sidesteps, careful to keep their footing quiet, but it doesn’t matter. The hero’s head cocks towards them as they try to step out of his blade’s path.

“You’re almost silent,” the hero continues. A smirk adorns his face, intrigued. “Incredible.”

The villain is close enough to strike, the hero looking slightly too far beyond them to be right in his assumptions. The villain shifts in fast, their dagger poised. The hero dodges back and retaliates with a swing of his own.

The villain stumbles out of reach and the hero follows. The villain’s unprepared; they were expecting a hero who’s unsure who they’re looking for, where the villain is. They were expecting an easy plaything that they could stab when they got bored.

But this—the hero is nothing but brazen confidence.

The villain shoves their dagger up to meet his blade, throwing his arm out. They move in for another strike but the hero’s already recovered. His blade easily tucks under their arm and slices into their side.

Something of a strangled gasp escapes the villain before they can stop it. They stagger back, a hand touched timidly to the wound, their eyes flitting back up to the hero. He simply waits, his blade crimson and his eyes blank. How? How?

“Would you do me the honour of telling me who I’ve met?” he asks, as if this is nothing more than a casual meeting between friends of friends. The villain wants to snap him in half for the audacity.

“That’s none of your fuckin’ business.”

“Aha,” the hero says, almost a laugh, “You’re [Villain].”

The villain can only stare at him in horror. The hero seems to feel the tension in the silence, because he continues. “You’ve a bad mouth, favour in the blade, light on your feet.” A teasing smile. “And you’ve a smooth, caramel voice I haven’t heard in many like you.”

“Wh— Excuse me— You—” 

The hero just smirks, the stupid smirk of someone who knows he’s untouchable in every sense of the word. “Flustered by compliments, too,” the hero finishes with a laugh. “Good to remember for next time.”

“I’m not flustered!” the villain finally manages, “and my voice isn’t caramel. That isn’t a thing. You sound stupid.”

“I’m happy to be stupid if it means I can recognise you as the villain who speaks in caramel.”

The villain’s side is beginning to really ache. They need to be somewhere that’s not here when it inevitably gets worse. “Do what you want. I’m going home.”

“May I escort you to a prison cell?”

The villain barks a laugh, their side practically splitting with the forced fakeness of it. “As if you know where the agency is from here.”

“I always know where I am, [Villain].” A smile again, softer this time. Knowing. “You underestimate me for a characteristic I think makes me as interesting to you as you are to me.”

The burn in the villain’s skin is an ode to that. “Sure.” The villain turns on their heel before a thought occurs to them. “I’m going to walk away, loudly. Do me a favour and don’t fucking shank me when I do.”

The hero’s face twists back into a smirk. “As long as I hear you moving away. Until next time, [Villain].”

A blind hero! everyone had cried. It’s almost too easy!

The villain scurries away with a gash to the side and a slam to their ego, and they know now to know better than that.

[utilitycaster]

I think that discussions of TTRPGs would be much more productive if the advocates of moving from D&D could separate out the ideas of "WoTC is part of the massive Hasbro conglomerate which engages in the shady capitalist practices massive conglomerates do"; "D&D is not suited for every single type of story or gameplay style"; and "here's how to pick a different TTRPG that suits you needs" because as I've said many a time like 99% of them are just trying to sell you on their favorite game, which might be out of print, prohibitively expensive, something no one around you is interested in playing, or is just as bad if not worse a fit for what you want to do as D&D.

I also think said conversations would be more productive if acknowledging many people came into TTRPGs via Actual Play but would be willing to branch out if you weren't the world's most condescending dickhead towards them*; if people considered the hard truth that if you're fluent in D&D and own the materials and have a group already the pitch for Pathfinder specifically actually becomes much harder, not easier; and, as always, if people tailored their recommendations. I agree that heists or space operas or low-combat social games don't play well in D&D; they also don't play well necessarily in your favorite game that you recommend for everything that isn't magically better or more versatile just because it's from a smaller company.

Anyway the point is if you just want to whine about D&D being a dominant force be my guest but you will probably lose all but the most impressionable/desperate for the validation of strangers portion of your D&D-playing audience. If you're actually interested in changing minds and not jacking off to how much cooler and better you are be prepared to ask or answer these questions:

Is D&D genuinely a bad fit for what they want to do, or are you just an intrusive hater?

What is the person you're trying to convert interested in doing at the table? This is is a complex question that covers genre and tone; session-to-session gameplay such as combat vs. RP balance but also (for example) granularity of rules; and overall scope of the game (eg: is this something that you can play a long-term campaign in with character progression? Or is it fairly static and intended to be a few sessions at most?)

What games are accessible to them? This means within their budget (unless you advocate for pirating from small indies, which will not really help with the whole WoTC dominance situation); within what they and their table have time to learn (or, if they are looking to get into games in the first place, what they might be able to find a group for); and again, I can't believe I have to say this but I really do because I've seen it multiple times: whether the game is in print.

Have you considered gently directing them to their friendly local gaming store with answers to the second and third questions above and unleashing them upon a person who knows the gaming scene in their area and (while I've dealt with a Comic Shop Guy or two in my time) is less likely to call them a dumb bitch to their face if the answer ends up being "I'll stick with D&D"? Again, is this about them having a good time? Or is this about you?

*the best way to describe this, since I've been talking a lot about people attempting to claim the status of the systemically oppressed, is that a lot of non-D&D/non-AP fans of TTRPGs on Tumblr act like they are an oppressed class and it's like Kevin, you are a white sysadmin Monte Hall Games fanboy, you are not oppressed by the girlies making Keyleth-inspired D&D characters. You are not part of the more popular fandom and indeed dislike it; this does not make you of a lower class.

[desigirldairies]

— desi with a side of yellow 🪞๋࣭ ⭑๋

[ariella-has-lost-her-mind]

guys literally have 0 excuse for not having communication skills because i have literally seen y'all play group video games and you describe where you're at like it's life or death