#would love his peanut....

[martyrbat]

who's pappy is this...

[ID: two photos of Alfred Pennyworth (from the 1966 Batman show) at a baseball game. He has round, brown glasses and is in a light brown suit and has a black fedora on. He's holding a striped bag of peanuts with two hands and is gripping it only with his fingertips. In the first photo he's looking up, slightly surprised, and in the second photo he's looking to the right of him. END ID]

[turtleblogatlast]

“Haven’t You Noticed (I’m a Star)” from Steven Universe works so ridiculously well for Leo

[yeehawpim]

@worldsbeyondbingo

crossover

eursulon is holding lou's replica of payment day from a crown of candy. if anyone can tell me who made it pls tell me and I'll edit this, I've been listening to acoc adventuring party for the whole day trying to find where he says it lol

Edit: sword is made by Jed Kim! Thanks to @nanobyytes

[carelessflower]

believe in my heart there some small bakery with that only didn��t go bankrupt because alec was the only one to enjoy their desserts magnus paid a ludicrous amount everytime to keep them in business

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Month 1, day 2

Most of Flick's clothes are shady now! :D Last bit'll be his arm wraps, then I can start shading his him 🥰 And then his halo. And then highlights! And after that, special effects, like making the halo glow! :D

And then I might just have to figure out how to break his shoulder for plot reasons 😇

[ihave-83-protons]

suddenly thinking of a zakkura shinra-less motorcyclist au what do y'all think

[atlasdoe]

i've been watching bojack horsemen for the first time and i have the urge to write a snape centric fic inspired by the show

[nympippi]

Vance Hopper post revival!

This bombastic loud little man is 14 1/2 years old, he likes hockey, pinball, rock n’ roll, and peanut butter “Koogle”.

I wanted to try and set established designs for the ghost boys after being brought back because I think after having to go through what they did they’d obviously not come back the same in my opinion.

I think post revival Vance would probably take his trauma and turn to smoking, and getting into more fights to try and help his pent anger.

I definitely think he would have a meltdown and cut his hair to gain a sense of control in his life because I think the Grabber grabbed his hair during his time in the basement, and him cutting his hair is a way to take back that control.

I think Vance would have control issues, both before and after dying because of home issues and other things in his life.

I also tried to lean more into the “Billy Hargrove look” because I think it’s cool and I also tried to add more playing card motifs in his design by adding a club necklace and a spade badge on his sleeve.

More ghost boys will come after Vance, I just wanted to show y’all my perspective on the au and how he would look in it ^^

[icewindandboringhorror]

Misc. photos from the past year or so ~

[dbphantom]

you know if you guys voted for stretch armstrong i probably would have shut up a lot sooner tonight

[wolfsplosion]

I am the most normal Will Byers fan

[bidisaster-peanut-romano]

anyway there's something so tragic about peanut's relationship with johnny. he's like. of course i love him and i would die and kill and live for him, i admire him a lot!! i'm very normal about him!! *lets johnny fuck him up* *lets johnny fuck him up* *lets johnny fuck him up* *lets johnny fuck him up* *lets johnny fuck him up* *lets john

[redstrewn]

I need shit to get real for leander at some point or so fucking help me god

[nenoname]

......kinda wild peeking at the reddit and seeing folks go nuts over dipper ships lmao

[rose-caravan]

As someone just off a publishing internship with a really amazing imprint, I can also say with surety not to give up hope! Because while our team was small, it was still a very well respected imprint of a large house and while they took clout and things into account, their focus was absolutely on quality of writing above all else.

For every executive out there pushing numbers and marketability, there are two editors who are passionate about quality and diverse voices and artistic merit, and there are ten assistants and publicists and production associates and marketers and more who care about you and your work and letting it shine no matter how many twitter followers you have.

I find it personally offensive how many bad writers can get published so easily.

[foldingfittedsheets]

When I was working at the sex shop I was pulling poverty wages. I loved my job but I was on food stamps and still barely getting by. When they hired the stores first male employee and he started at my pay rate after I’d been there for three years I quit.

I was initially really nervous when I saw the post for the mattress job. It listed a pay scale that I couldn’t even conceptualize and I appeared qualified. When I got an interview I was over the moon but also petrified. Reactions to my line of work often varied but most people were very embarrassed or skeptical. I worried about how I’d address it in the actual interview.

I lived far to the north of their headquarters and drove almost two hours to get there. When I finally arrived it was in the nicest thrift store clothes I could find, but I shrank inside to see a room full of older white men in nice suits waiting to be interviewed for the same job.

Why did I bother? I was decades younger than anyone else in the room, shabbily dressed, and I suspected I was the only afab person in the entire building. I stewed in my insecurities until I was called in.

The second I met my interviewer I was instantly put at ease. The man had the energy of a therapy dog, he was abound with positive, good natured energy. He was also incredibly beautiful. I grinned back at his welcoming smile as we said our pleasantries. But still. This very beautiful polished man seemed very innocent. How would the sex shop question go?

“I see here you worked at STORE?”

“Yes,” I said hesitantly.

“And that was sales? Or you just rang people up.”

“No, it was sales. I’d help people find products, we were encouraged to upsell, there was sales spiffs, and most importantly we educated customers on products to help them find what they liked best.”

He grinned approvingly and asked, “Can you give me an example of a time you successfully upsold a customer?”

I paused, wringing my hands before I asked, “How vague would you like me to be…?”

“Not at all!” He assured me. “Go for it!”

“Well. A man came in looking for something to make his fingers vibrate so when he was touching his wife it would enhance that sensation. We had cheap $10 cockrings that I showed him first. But we had a rechargeable waterproof one made of nicer material, and after I showed him a demo he bought that one.”

“How much was that one?”

“$110”

“Wow! You had an upsell of 100% from what he came in looking for! That’s incredible!”

He was so truly genuinely stoked and not at all embarrassed that for the first time I saw a tiny glimmer of a future where I didn’t have ramen and peanut butter tiding me over between paychecks.

He asked me to wait then came back to tell me he liked me so much that he wanted to send me right into another interview, if that was okay. He didn’t want me to have to drive back later, it was terribly considerate and exciting. I beamed and told him it would be lovely.

I then had the second worst interview I’ve ever had. The worst goes to the time I applied to be a store manager for a pet food place years later. The district and store manager interviewing me passed notes and texted while I was speaking. When the district manager called to inform me I didn’t get the job I told him I’d never have accepted anyway because I’d never had such a disrespectful interview.

The new man sitting behind the desk radiated an aura of a brick wall. As someone with anxiety I’m highly keyed into the emotional states of people I’m talking to. To receive no feedback at all was my personal hell. After a perfunctory greeting he asked me with no inflection to sell him a pen.

I gathered the shreds of my courage and attempted the Herculean task he’d set me. Through my whole improvised spiel he resisted all attempts at engaging him, regarding me with a cold apathy as I touted the benefits of my fictitious pen.

Halfway through I broke into a cold sweat. My smile didn’t waver but it grew strained as I projected friendliness and warmth into the black hole of his heart. My thoughts scattered and my sales pitch grew redundant in the face of his nothingness. I finally concluded with a hard close and he simply nodded.

He glanced at my resume and commented, “You didn’t ask me to touch or hold it. Though I suppose I can understand from your previous line of work why you wouldn’t.” I shriveled and died inside knowing that I encouraged people to touch dildos all day long and had been too frazzled to offer him the pen.

He bid me a cool farewell. I made it to my car before I started sobbing. I had never been so rattled. I couldn’t understand what I’d done to make him so unfriendly or if my threadbare clothes were what had made him treat me like dirt. I drove an hour and a half to get home, weeping intermittently.

I was therefore taken by complete surprise to receive a call the next day inviting me on board for their five week training program. The first man who’d interviewed me gushed on the phone about how the second guy had loved me and that I was going to be fantastic.

I was in shock. When I showed up to training the second interviewer was charming my new classmates, beaming and laughing. He was an utterly different person. To my dismay I learned he was the trainer for my district and would be my point of contact if I made it through training.

He joked with me later that his interview facade was just a tactic to see how people held up under pressure and I filed him into a category of my deepest enmity. I never forgave him for how small he made me feel that day, but I never showed him the depths of my fury.

I aced every test and went on to be valedictorian of the eight people who had survived the rigorous training process to earn a sales position. When I got my first paycheck I bought myself new clothes, the first non-thrifted things I’d owned in years.