The Stuff I Feel Like Sharing

[theveryworstthing]

the fight is harder each year.

[theveryworstthing]

gotta keep going because nothing ever stops.

[theveryworstthing]

you deserve to be new and whole.

[nervosityperson]

Can someone explain what’s happening besides someone being reborn?

[naamahdarling]

In the first comic, which is from the Warrior’s point of view, the Warrior has defeated the Monster, who jeers that there will always be another Monster to fight. The Monster dissolves into mist, leaving another tiny, baby Monster in its place. The Warrior picks up this helpless new baby Monster and carries it away. They will try again and do better this time.

In the second comic, which is from the Monster’s point of view, the Monster says that this has to happen; it can’t come with the Warrior, and there will always be another.  It tells the Warrior to use what they have learned to fight.  It wants to die knowing that the Warrior has hope for the future.  It dissolves into mist, and the exhausted Warrior collapses. The new baby Monster comes and brings the Warrior some water in a leaf.  Because we are reading this in the Monster’s voice, we realize that it is a new Monster, but also somehow, magically, the same.  We also see that the Monster is not inherently evil.  It is only very strong, and inevitable.

The third comic is a dialogue between the Monster and the Warrior.  The Warrior is exhausted and horrifically wounded. The Monster is also horribly maimed.  They are both dying. The Warrior doesn’t want to fight anymore.  The Monster tells them to rest and heal. The Warrior hands over their amulet, and we see the Monster’s paw become a hand just before they both dissolve into mist.  It clears, revealing that the Monster has turned into a beautiful humanoid, who says they will take care of the new baby monster the Warrior has turned into.  The two have changed roles.  The Warrior takes up the former Warrior’s gear and strides into the new year with the new baby Monster riding on their shoulders.

It is a beautiful, ruthless, hopeful metaphor about keeping up the good fight, year after year, even when we are worn down, and how we can still face the new year with hope and light, no matter how painful the last one was, and how it is okay to rest if we can’t fight.

[naamahdarling]

It’s not the new year, but things are so difficult for so many of us right now, and we are so worn down from so many fights on so many fronts, I feel like we could all use this again.  Love, rest, fight, love.

[sameboot]

This single tumblr post has better writing than anything hollywood has pumped out in the last decade

[homunculus-argument]

alien: So what did you specialise in?

human: adaptation.

alien: Adap- you can't do that. Adaptation is meant for the PROCESS of specialisation. You can't SPECIALISE in adaptation.

human: Sure I did. I'm actually the apex predator in every surface inch of my native planet.

alien: And every species you classify as human is capable of producing viable young? Where would the mixed-adaptation offspring even live?

human: Anywhere they want, really. External, genetic climate modifications are largely just for the aesthetics these days.

alien: What about temperatures? Could a human adapted to the coldest climate just move to the hottest region, or vice versa, and survive?

human: Oh yeah they do that a lot. They'll need to be taught how to properly equip proper tools, clothing and shelter maintenance in order to keep themselves to tolerable temperatures, but yeah.

alien: Tools and maintenance?

human: Yeah, there's machines that can make hot air cold, and cold air hot, so while outdoor survival is only possible temporarily, it's possible to make housing structures that are comfortable in any climate.

alien: I don't... I don't think that counts as "adaptation". That's not what natural adaptation means.

human: Actually humans don't consider it "natural" either. We kind of consider ourselves separate from other nature.

alien: Well that sure explains SOME human behaviour, but... That's not natural adaptation. That's not how any of this works.

human: Nah it works quite well. We've specialised in making tools and machines for adaptation.

alien: That's not how it works.

human: Nuh-uh. Is too.

alien: Are you SURE you're not specialised in being exhausting to deal with?

human: Well actually I'm a pursuit predator as well, so literally yes.

[femmefaramir]

older lotr illustrations sometimes depict éowyn wearing ridiculously small armour. apart from the problem general sexualisation of the only female character (who really does anything), there’s another hilarious thought:

éowyn pretended to be dernhelm, a man. to fit in, she must have worn men’s armor. so the armor in the illustrations is normal for rohirrim.

therefore, all the rohirrim rode to war just like that:

[hobbit-hole]

there’s a thundering sound in the distance as the rohirrim ride into war but rather than hoofbeats it’s the collective sound of all their cheeks clapping

[delicatelytoobear]

the artist for this particular piece is Frank Frazetta and to be fair to him this is how he drew the orcs armor 

so the rohirrim comment is probably not that far off

[adhd-trash-mammal]

That’s a man who just straight up had a problem with the concept of wearing pants into battle, and I respect that

[cumaeansibyl]

male or female

hero or villain

sea or land

even in the snow

I guarantee you Frazetta’s Rohirrim were 100% pants-free

[missmollyetc]

Good Old Frank. That man loved bodies and hated clothes so much

[thebyrchentwigges]

[trist-pkmngal]

Frank Frazetta was the reason He-Man was designed like that; the producers conduct a study to see what art appeal the most to children, and Frank’s work came out on top in popularity. So everyone in He-Man is dressed the way they are directly because of Frazetta.

[snugglebunchesofeyes]

That man gave us the gift of warrior thighs and tits for everyone.

[olderthannetfic]

Ah, it has been too long since I have seen the no pants post on my dash. And yes, this is a rare case where it wasn’t some sexist nonsense but an egalitarian No Pants Agenda.

[ding-dong-the-bitch-is-dead]

@blackkatmagic

[popsunner]

Was just informed by my mom that I do in fact have ADHD and the reason I thought I didn’t was because ever since I was seven whenever I got super energetic my mom would have me go chop wood so now when I’m feeling The ADHD I go chop wood and I thought it was just some sort of routine I started when I was little and wanted to blow off steam

[popsunner]

I’d also like to point out that my sister has a really hard time staying present (I can’t remember the term because we’ve always called it Tethered at my house) and whenever she’s feeling Untethered my mom has her knead bread and make syrup because they’re repetitive and easy things to do that ground her

[popsunner]

Now that I’m thinking about it- my brother has days where he doesn’t talk and doesn’t eat unless he’s prompted, and on those days my mom sits him down in the fish pond in the backyard and plays Mozart and because he’s so used to that being his wake up he always comes back in after like an hour rambling about random things

[popsunner]

Oh yeah and when it rains my mom has a required hour where we all have to go outside and run around and whoever finds the most worms for the garden wins and then we go inside and my mom makes us tea and we watch Studio Ghibli movies

[popsunner]

Wait!!! When one of us has a bad day at school we make a fire in the backyard and roast homemade sausages and my mom tells us stories until we laugh and then she tucks is in bed like we’re five again and sings us songs

[popsunner]

Uh.... wait guys is my mom a witch raising a bunch of fae kids hold on-

[eldritch-eternity]

“I didn’t know I had adhd because my mom gave me such an effective coping mechanism” is such a high bar to clear and she soared over it like a space-plane.

[saywhat-politics]

[pbandjesse]

Why is this written like the pornhub logo?

[nightwing1536]

So white men pay attention

[oysters-aint-for-me]

i’m obsessed with this

and then, two months later....

🥺

[aenvittorielle]

holy fuck, why is this so true :"D

[primeemeraldheiress]

I swear to god the first few times I watched this my brain put a filter over it that it looked like it was rendered in a videogame to me. It took multiple viewings for me see through that, even through I knew it was actual people and places and film, not rendered models.

Also, holy fuck, the actors! Look at them! That movement! Just like the game!

[transheadcrab]

why do they always show cranberries in thos big pits n its implied its wet and possibly swimmable. do cranberries really grow like that. wh

[khamingbird-blog]

You’ve never heard of The Bog?

[transheadcrab]

th

the what

[transheadcrab]

EACH ADDITION TO THIS POST MAKES MY BLOOD RUN COLD

[punkrorschach]

This is a cranberry bog (unflooded) it’s how cranberries grow. Once they’re ripe, the blog is flooded and the cranberries harvested.

Basically by using big floaty things to round them all up and then scooping them out of the water.

[transheadcrab]

thank u. i hate it a little less but the horrible little man in my head is still screaming “BOG BODY BOG BODY BOG BODY”, but i appreciate the education,

[bomberqueen17]

oh here is a fun lil perspective on cranberry harvesting i never heard about anywhere else. the guy who owns the restaurant right down the road from the farm, who fries our chickens sometimes, is from Boston, with the strongest Boston accent ever, and in a former life before he started slinging reasonably priced barbeque and occasional organic chicken, he was a cranberry farmer.

His farm was on the leading edge of kinda using organic/sustainable pest control methods, and one of the things that they did to keep insect damage down was that they encouraged wolf spiders to live in the cranberry field, to eat the bugs. 

This was all fine and good until they flooded the bog. Now, you don’t just like flood the bog and then go around it in a boat or whatever. No, you use hip waders to get in there and put the big floaty things where they go and get all the berries and such.

Well when you’re in the bog in hip waders, that makes you the tallest thing. Wolf spiders can swim a bit, but they don’t like it, so they’re, quite understandably, looking to climb out of the water onto a tall thing.

So yeah the first interview question he always asked potential cranberry bog harvester hires was “are you cool with spiders?”

“You’d be amazed,” he said to us, shaking his head a little, “how many guys would just straight lie. Like, you think I’m asking you that question to be cute? Nah man you’re gonna have like a hundred wolf spiders trying to climb your eyebrows, you gotta be chill, those wolf spiders are fellow employees. You really gotta be chill with spiders if you’re gonna work a cranberry harvest.”

[featheredadora]

Bird Positivity! Chronic illness isn’t something you have to ‘overcome’ to have worth - you are so valuable just for existing!

[somecunttookmyurl]

i can tell i’m sleep deprived bc i just made myself cry about tutankhamun and i have, like, negative interest in the kid

[somecunttookmyurl]

have now made the rest of the discord cry about this little boy who had multi-coloured ducks sewn onto a tunic that he loved so much he wore it to a Very Important Event because he was EIGHT and have you SEEN my DUCKS

[somecunttookmyurl]

sorry no i’m not done i’m gonna make you all cry some more i’m bringing you down with me

there was once a little boy.

he is born disabled. his body hurts, and he can’t walk properly the way the other children do. he doesn’t understand why. he’s a little boy. but he plays with wooden boats and pulls toys on a string.

somebody makes him a tunic. they sew ducks onto it in red and green and yellow and blue. the bright colours of a child.

the little boy is eight years old, and he’s going to be king now. there’s a big ceremony about it. he doesn’t really fully understand what’s going on, because he’s eight, but he wears the tunic with the brightly coloured ducks for the occasion because he loves it. look at his ducks! aren’t they great?

he is a child. the adults around him manipulate and coax him to gain more power for themselves. he still plays with toys.

as a teenager, not yet an adult, he fathers children. they do not survive. he’s not even old enough to have full agency in his job and is still being manipulated, but he had babies and they died.

he does not make it to his twenties. at eighteen or nineteen years old he dies, and is buried. his babies, so tiny, are buried with him.

and so is his tunic with the little ducks that he loved so much he kept it long after it no longer fit.

there was once a little boy.

[somecunttookmyurl]

yeah i think that like. especially with historical figures in your mind people who were kings and queens or important nobles were adults. even if you know how old they were it doesn’t really click. it doesn’t seem real

but then you get something like a little tunic with brightly coloured ducks on it and it hits you like a fucking truck that this really was a little kid and no matter how far removed you are a little kid is still a little kid. their brains didn’t develop any quicker back then. he was just as developed/mature mentally as any 8 year old now. he had cartoonish animals on his clothes and he played with toy boats and probably terrorised the local cat population.

tutankhamun was a child and he didn’t make it to adulthood because he was unfortunate enough to be a very important child

his dad died when he was 8. he saw his own babies die when he was still just a boy himself.

but he had brightly coloured little ducks on his favourite shirt, and he kept it.

[somecunttookmyurl]

and he did not just keep the duckie shirt either

tutankhamun had a little pair of sandals with ducks on them. he had earrings decorated with ducks. he kept those, and other items of childhood clothing. some toys. keepsakes. things he loved, and treasured. he kept them all in a little wooden chest. the chest… was carved with ducks.

and that little duck chest, filled with things he kept from his childhood, was buried with him. maybe he was keeping them for the little babies who did not make it. maybe they just reminded him of good days and fun times.

but he was a little boy who thought ducks were just the best

[somecunttookmyurl]

WITH PLEASURE

(greyscale makes it hard but the duck head is on the right above the toe strap. always takes me a while to find it too)

[beggars-opera]

[weaver-z]

Radiation is insane. There are rocks out there that will pull the seams of your organs apart if you stand too close to them.

[fluffmugger]

#some rocks really do have auras#unfortunately the aura is ‘eat shit and die’ energy

[headspace-hotel]

concept: there are lots of different worlds and all of them have different levels of access to magic. Some are just all over the place and some have no magic at all.

You would think that we would be one of the strictly non-magical worlds, but actually, that’s not the case—we don’t have like, a huge excess of magic, but we have, like, dreams, and the placebo effect, which puts us pretty solidly in the “Numinous” world category.

[headspace-hotel]

This post brought to you by the placebo effect, which is completely insane if you think about it for more than like 3 seconds

but for some reason we insist on thinking of it like “so people’s symptoms improve, but like, it’s Fake” rather than “HOLY SHIT humans are so powerful, they can improve the symptoms of their illnesses just by believing they are being cared for.”

[headspace-hotel]

Anyway just imagine like

Human, suddenly sucked by portal into a Magical Land: damn I wish I came from a magical world lol

Elf wizard dude: hahaha bro what are you talking about

Human: well, my world is just—

Elf wizard dude: what about the magic rocks????

Human: What magic rocks?

Elf wizard dude: You know, the magic rocks. The ones that generate near infinite energy by tearing apart the fabric of their reality? You know, like, uranium? You haven’t found those yet?

Human: Wait wait wait. That’s not—

Elf wizard dude: And like, come on, you even have some low level necromantic spells over there, like—

Human: We do not have necromantic spells, what are you talking about

Elf wizard dude: didn’t you say your friend was an EMT though? they do that shit all the time. Hell, you don’t even have to be like a high level caster or some shit, it takes like a few weeks to learn CPR

Human: Wh—

Elf wizard dude: You guys do have CPR, right?

Human: I mean yes but—what the—CPR is not necromancy!! That’s not how it works, it doesn’t bring people back from the—well I guess technically it does but that doesn’t—

Elf wizard dude: Next you’re going to be telling me Mothman doesn’t “count” either.

Human:

Human: …

Human: …What.

[headspace-hotel]

Human: You don’t understand. I mean…Radioactivity kills people!

Elf wizard dude: Ohhh. You got just the cursed magic rocks.

Human: …

Elf wizard dude: Damn. That sucks man.

[headspace-hotel]

Elf wizard dude: So you have no talking animals? None?

Human: Well I mean—there is that one type of parrot but like that doesn’t—

Elf wizard dude: godDAMN it

[dankmemeuniversity]

[xelayxes]

[xelayxes]

@matzahball

[dracophile]

For a second I didn’t realize it meant “high” as in a stoner–I thought “High Geologist” was like a rank of geologist or something and he was insulted you would challenge him to naming stones

[hamptercatapult]

great poast every one👍

[shirecorn]

I have drawn him…. The High Geologist

[syberfire117]

Can’t believe he’s ace

[shirecorn]

He is now And here’s the photo evidence:

[aphorisnt]

hey guys…https://twitter.com/MatthewLillard/status/1322648148364324864 so does this make it canon?

[shirecorn]

the high geologist has ascended

[ethanrayne]

every time i see this post it gets…. better? but also weirder.

[venusrrvelez]

I always gotta reblog the High Geologist once in a while.

[sapphireclawe]

I love this too much.

[lilacandladybugs]

also it is with a heavy heart that i must inform you that tumblr isnt inherently better than twitter and having the ability to use More Words has not done anything in the past to give people on this hellsite any reading comprehension. we’re just lucky 😔

[the-blade]

whats the point of having a glass house if youre not throwing stones

[lilacandladybugs]

you know what nevermind that’s valid

[writing-prompt-s]

You’re an ancient Greek man coming home from 4 months of war to find your wife 3 months pregnant. Now you’ve embarked on a solemn quest: to punch Zeus in the face.

[hermdoggydog]

Soon after you begin your quest, you encounter another man in a similar situation. You decide to join forces, as two mortal men stand a better chance at punching Zeus than one. Two villages over, you encounter a woman who had relations with Zeus and was left with a highly aggressive half-boar half-man offspring. She too feels your anger and offers to join your quest. By the time you reach Mount Olympus, you’ve amassed a large and formidable army of cuckolded/ravished mortals, demigods with daddy issues, mythical creatures with scores to settle, and a seamstress who you’re pretty sure is Hera in disguise. Zeus never stood a chance.

[deadcatwithaflamethrower]

I wanna read this book.

[writing-prompt-s]

You’re the most recognised and internationally praised superhero, but you don’t fight any crime. Instead, you use your powers over stone and metal to repair the damage caused by the catastrophic fights other heroes get into.

[fakecrfan]

They didn’t call you a superhero when you started. You didn’t claim to be one, either. 

You didn’t have a costume or a sponsor or training or anything like that. You were just a kid who had just seen your entire world knocked down. So, in a moment of childish determination and belief, you thought you could fix it all. 

The first emergence of your powers wasn’t a huge triumphal moment. Moving stone and earth and steel doesn’t matter if you don’t know anything about how to stack things up so they don’t fall back over again. 

Your first attempts crashed right back down again. That was your first lesson. 

—

Even when you got good at what you did, they didn’t call you a superhero. 

You still didn’t have a costume, but you’d gotten your hands on every architectural diagram you could and done plenty of practice. Then you started to show up to the aftermath of battles and put them quietly together again. 

But it still wasn’t right. You couldn’t do much if you didn’t have the diagrams for the buildings demolished–if the city planners didn’t let you have them.

So you stitched together a costume, something bright and colorful that would grab the attention of the cameras on the scene afterward as you tried to work. 

“Look! Someone’s putting those houses back together!” 

The effect was instantaneous. The moment you’d grabbed public attention, there were requests for interviews, think pieces–each giving you a platform to ask for the help you needed. 

This was your second lesson. 

–

You didn’t call yourself a superhero, or come up with the name yourself. You were never really good about all of those things. But once the attention was on you, you got offers from managers and sponsors. One, a blonde with perfect hair who introduced herself as “just Sandy” 

“I don’t have any money.”

“That’s alright,” she said, her grin showing spectacularly white teeth. “All I need is for you to take on some gigs and give me a cut.” 

Sandy set you up. She got you the costume people would know you for, gave you the name, managed all of the PR and set up interviews. Your fame skyrocketed, and soon you were seeing yourself on billboards. 

Soon you had access to hundreds of city plans and blueprints. After enough attacks happened, you learned them well enough to hardly need to reference them. After a few years, you could rebuild a tower in a matter of minutes, and cities in a matter of days. 

Your powers evolved as your understanding did. Soon, you could read the entire layout of a building just from touching. Then, just from touching the ruins. You no longer need blueprints, then–just your own hands on the metal.

The gigs were simple, too–just fixing up hero bases after they’d gotten wrecked in attacks. Feel good work that paid well. 

With the help of many people, you do more. That’s the third lesson.

—

The problems started with the homeless thing. 

You were in between projects and itching to use your skills more. Creating homes for the homeless seemed like the perfect, feel good project to flex on. 

It was, for the first few weeks. Then came the backlash. City dwellers crying foul, saying they hadn’t agreed to an enormous den of undesirables in their backyards. There were protests, white suburban moms holding up signs about drug dealers and rapists and criminals. 

It wasn’t your choice in the end. Eventually the city mandated that you deconstruct your shelter, or they would do it the hard way. 

Regretfully, you took it down. You did not look in the eyes of the people that had sheltered there as they had to go on their way.

It was the same story in every area you tried to build shelters in afterwards.

—

“Can we just buy the land to build them houses?” you asked Sandy. 

She clicked her perfect teeth. “Sorry, there are laws against building new things in the city. You need mayoral approval to start a new construction project.”

“Why?”

“Well, there are already too many empty houses,” she said matter of factly. 

You stared. “What? Then let’s just buy those and put people in them!”

“You don’t have that much money,” she pointed out. “Not when you’ve been giving it away every year. Also, it wouldn’t do as much good as you think. Just think of the effect on the market–”

This is not why you fired Sandy. But it was the first time you thought of it.

—

Opinion started to turn against you when you began using your interviews and platform to talk about this problem, to demand permission to build or otherwise help. Exasperation turned to hostility when you started to reshape the landscape to be softer to the unhoused, anyway–when you created caves in parks where people could easily shelter, or made every bench large and soft so that anyone could have a place to sleep.

Laws and ordinances passed, all regulating the amount of alterations one was allowed to make to public property. About how many changes you were allowed to make as you were reconstructing a city. The fines for altering things started to heap up. 

Firing Sandy didn’t help. Your good reputation was always as much her work as yours, but after what she said about—you couldn’t. 

You couldn’t. 

You learned not to read the scathing opinion pieces on you. That was the hardest lesson yet.

—

Of course, shit really hit the fan when you were contracted to rebuild another base.

It was a simple enough decision for you. You found out they had been building drones and firing them on civilians. That at this base Techno has been building surveillance technology that would be able to monitor every single person in the country at every moment, and be able to fire upon them with impunity the moment suspicious activity was detected. 

It made you rethink every base you had built in the past.

“No,” you told them. 

“You already signed your contract–”

Instead of dignifying that with an answer, you transmuted the entire area into the rockiest, most impossible terrain you could. Every trick you had learned to make land easier to build on–you reversed it, turning what had once been the base into a precarious canyon of jagged, diamond-hard steel, nearly impossible to remove or build on.

“I said no.” 

—

Stopping the construction of the stadium was the next kicker. 

“You’re insane!” said the heroes who came to remove you.

“They evicted a hundred families for this!” you spat. “Those were people’s homes. It’s disgusting that it’s allowed for the government to do that–much less to do it for-for a stadium? For entertainment?” 

And so you stood there for the next 48 hours, deconstructing every single thing they tried to put on their ill-gotten land. 

Then, they sent the heroes to stop you. You were never the best at fighting, so they knocked you out quickly.

—

They don’t call you a superhero now. Behind bars, you glance over every thinkpiece and profile about the world’s most beloved hero fell. You read speculation about evil, greed, madness. All things you’ve heard about “villains” who came before you. 

It makes you wonder about those people. If maybe you had misjudged them, too.

But that’s alright, you realize after the sting of it fades away. That was the second lesson, after all–more than anything, you need people to be talking. And for all the bitterness in these words, you realize grimly that people will never stop talking.

Once you’ve thought things through, you decide you’re ready. The steel of your cell melts away. After all, there is no prison that can contain you. No earth or stone or metal can withstand your will. 

Your legacy as the world’s greatest supervillain begins with a left turn down the hallway, right to where the other villains are kept.

[feminineduck-deactivated2022051]

[grucose]

More pictures of LegMaster.