Sandbox007

she/her - ace as hell - hoarding posts that make the boring days of life interesting

[stil-lindigo]

bite of winter.

a comic about a princess who died in the snow.

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creative notes:

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all my other comics

store

[eleilinnrallin]

This is a reminder for those who handmake Christmas presents that now is not too early to start. It may in fact be a good time to start if you have a lot to make/your craft takes a long time. You should maybe start it now, whether that's brainstorming or actually doing the crafts!

[newtsoftheworldunite]

Translating this into tumblr's preferred public service announcement format for this kind of alert:

[shencomix]

My Fitness Coach is a Dark Wizard [Complete]

[grendelmenz-deactivated20200929]

some sort of love poem

[grendelmenz-deactivated20200929]

This is the wildest result of one of my comics becoming popular I feel rabid

[semutamusic]

was just gonna reblog this bomb ass comic again bc it’s a mood but the author’s addition is hilarious. this is why your english teachers taught you to find meaning in a text

[soycrates]

Gentrification creates a stifling homogeneity in urban areas that makes it less suited for the everyday lives of the lower class and more suited towards the leisure and tourism of those with expendable income.

An old, decrepit laundromat gets replaced by an upscale bakery? And people are mad? It’s not that the poor hate organic vegan cupcakes, it’s that most of us don’t have a way to do laundry in our own home.

Run-down corner stores replaced by hand-made designer clothing boutiques? We don’t hate your eco-fabric shawl, but I can’t eat that for dinner after work like I could have a can of beans I grabbed from that corner store when I don’t have time to take the bus to the real grocery store after work.

What gentrification brings in and of itself is not typically bad, it’s that gentrification brings institutions of leisure and pleasure and makes it so that the poor have to go farther out of their way for basic necessities. It turns low-income living spaces into local tourist attractions. It can even create food deserts by putting restaurants, grocery stores, etc. in that the majority of the lower class cannot afford.

Imagine if someone totally renovated your house and turned it into a mini theme park - they took away your sleeping space, where you prepare food, where you clean yourself and get ready for your day, and replaced it with things that will please people who are visiting, who have their own homes they can go back to, who are here not for their entire life but just as a distraction from their otherwise mundane existence. It’s not that you hate theme parks, it’s not like you’ve never been to a theme park and vow to never visit one again. It’s just that you need to live! To survive! And the leisure of those who have more than you should not invalidate your existence.

[soycrates]

I am glad this has made the rounds. Some people feel a dense misunderstanding or misinterpretation concerning gentrification, and I think it helps to hear a description/explanation of what gentrification is from those who are both affected by it and educated by the culture from which it hails. I and many others enjoy some of the delights of gentrification while simultaneously having their livelihoods threatened by it. 

[lili-tti]

Hi, I came to show you my illustration in the zine. I put my whole soul into it.

[nealashitposts]

I recently found out why my mom would never sleep around me when I was a kid. Like she’d never let herself take naps or sleep if I was awake, ever. Or if she did, she would lock her bedroom door. So when I was 6, I was asleep in my bed in the middle of the night when I hear a loud bang, like a pot being dropped and come out to the living room to see my mom standing by the window, with just a huge pile of spaghetti all over the sill, and a pot on the ground, and I ’m like “Are you gonna eat all that?” And ya’ll she get’s BIG MAD and yells at me and chases me to my room but then a little while later a bunch of cops show up and ask me a bunch of random ass questions about my art? Like this one cop lady keeps asking me to draw dragons for her?! And they seem mad as hell

I didn’t want to get arrested so I just never asked my mom for spaghettis after that. Lesson, learned. Don’t ask mom for spaghettis or she’ll call the damn police on you. 

So I have this memory in my head, and it goes unquestioned until I say it outload for the first time a few months back and as soon as I say the words “When I was six, my mom called the cops on me for asking for spaghettis” My adult logic slams into place and is like “Hang on. Your mother definatly did not call the police on a 6 year old for asking for spaghetti.” 

So obviously that’s not what really went down. I call up my mom to tell her how I remember it and on top of her figuring out why her kid has always been really cagey around spaghettis for the last 3 decades she tells me what really happened. 

So on that night, a man tried to break into our house through the front window. It was just my mom, and her kids so she did what she felt she had too and shot him in the head. He’d been wearing a helmet, which landed on the floor under the window.

Now I just want ya’ll to put yourselves in my moms shoes for a minute here. This woman has just taken a human life. The trauma of that- the instant agony, the panic, the guilt, the fear- all of it hitting her at once, her only solace the knowledge that her children are safe. She protected her daughters. No matter the cost to her soul- her children are safe.

Then she looks up and sees her six year old staring at the inside of this mans head before saying “Are you gonna eat all that?” 

[nealashitposts]

I suspect they were trying to keep me busy and distracted while they cleaned up the corpse in the living room?!?

[nealashitposts]

someone said tumblr nuked this post, but I could never be so lucky.

[qcharlie]

please god watch this right now

[fangirltothefullest]

The editing of this video is hysterical and genius- they switch between so many editing styles to reflect exactly what kind of thing they're going for in each segment its GREAT.

[weaselle]

this is so good actually

[thebibliosphere]

I’ll never not be amused by the fact that I can drop the words “crucifix nail nipples” into a conversation and some of you who have been with me since the livejournal days will join me in the flashbacks, screaming and crying all the way.

[hadanelith]

I require context. Because this is a very interesting start of a story, and now I need the rest of it. Could I get a link, or a summary, or something? Pretty please?

[thebibliosphere]

All right buckle the fuck up kids, it’s the year 2012 and I’ve just been handed what should be an easy editing gig by my senior editor. It’s a vampire erotica story because one of the final Twilight movies is about to come out, and everything is vampires. Everything. I haven’t edited a single thing in months which isn’t about vampires. I am ready, I can do this. So I open the file and notice there’s a typo in the title, which really should have been my first inkling that something horrendous was about to go down, but you see I’m not quite dead inside yet so I carry on, bushy tailed and bright eyed with my faith in humanity intact. It’ll be dead by page 24, but I don’t know that yet. I’m just editing one more vampire boner fest.

The MC is a girl who we’ll call Sue. Sue is a Good Girl™, Sue is Not Like Other Girls™, she is pale and awkward and a virgin and has somehow managed to find herself a Bad Boy™ for a boyfriend. We’ll call him Dickhead.

Now Dickhead as previously stated is a bit of dick, he tries to pressure Sue into sex because he knows she is The One™ but he loves her really so it’s okay. Except it’s not okay because Sue is a Good Girl™ and holding out till marriage which he’s fine with except he’s got such a bad case of blue balls that one night walking home an attractive stranger lures him into an alley with the words “hey stud” and he follows, dick out before she’s even finished her sentence. Well turns out that was a mistake for Dickhead because she’s a vampire, but not just any vampire, a Dick Biting Vampire. So what started out as a skeevy blow job behind a club that he’ll feel bad about in the morning, turns into him being bitten on the dick and drained of his life essence and left for dead. Except DBV fucked up and now he’s a vampire. Are you still with me? Good, cause it’s about to get weirder.

Realizing he is now an abomination, Dickhead flees, becoming a creature of the night and feeding on animals rather than humans to repent for being such an asshole in life. Sue meanwhile is heartbroken, but carries on valiantly with her life and goes to bed each night crying for the loss of her One True Love™ who she would do anything to bring back. Well guess what Sue, Dickhead never really left you! He’s been “instinctively protecting her from rapists” by hiding out on her roof and fighting hobos who try to get to her open window via the fire escape for months now. Because that’s not fucking terrifying at all.

Upon learning of his predicament and how it happened, Sue can do nothing but blame herself. Oh if only she’d let him touch her secret places, then perhaps all of this could be avoided! Meanwhile Dickhead is having another dilemma of his own, realizing too late that his vampire powers have given him super senses and now he can smell her blood and he can’t decide whether he wants to get with her or eat her. And I don’t mean in the French sense. But he is strong! And over comes his base manly vampire instincts and neither rapes not kills her. Hurrah! And this is so romantic that Sue gives it up, but not before she launches into a theory about how in all fairy tales, True Love saves the day, so maybe her magical pure vagina that has never been touched by anyone, not even her, can bring him back to life. So Dickhead being a dickhead agrees and rips her clothes off, but not before he takes one last moment to marvel at the beauty of her purity, because he will never again look on her again and know she is Pure.

If you’ve only vomited once by now, I applaud your resolve.

So they hop on the good foot and do the nasty, except she is literally so pure in spirit, her flesh burns his. And I quote you from memory because these words are burned into my soul: “her breasts bit into his hands, like crucifix nail nipples tearing at his flesh, but he did not care because he loved her so and couldn’t stop”

This phrase haunts me. I dread that it will be the last thing I think about on my death bed and my last words will literally be “god fucking dammit” as I die, carrying that mental image with me into the afterlife. My own solace is in knowing that I inflicted it on other people too, like @ahzuri who is somehow still with me after all these years.

When the magical burning sex fails to heal him and leaves her bruised, battered and broken with “a dainty blue bells of bruises around her secret flower” (I am genuinely quoting this, I could never make something as horrendous as this up without being on acid) Dickhead leaves. Yeah. Off he fucks, leaving her to the mercy of the hobos at her window, and into the night to be the true monster he really is. But wait, there’s more. Remember the dick biting vampire? Well turns out she has figured out she made him into a vampire and has also been stalking HIM and is totally jealous of Sue, so tries to kill her. But again Sues Purity saves her, because sex before marriage which was done out of True Love is not a sin, so she is still a spiritual virgin and I’ll be honest, I started drinking heavily at this point and it’s all a bit of a blur.

A fight ensues some pages later after Dickhead returns, realizing the mistake he has made. And he rescues Sue from the Dick Biter, but not before he assaults Dick Biter, and calls her a slut for luring innocent men into alleys cuts her heart out by cutting her breasts off, at which point i screamed “THAT’S NOT HOW YOU REACH THE HEART” and my brain short circuited completely and I have no idea how it ends because I realized there was 30 pages left and my soul couldn’t take it. I emailed the chief editor like ?????!!!!!!????!!!!!! and the book was immediately pulled from the work line and the author dismissed from the publishing house. Turns out she was a friend of a friend and that was how she got the manuscript past our entry levels for requirement.

And that’s the story of how an author sent me death threats for over a month because I stopped her shitty vampire porn from ever seeing the light of day. You’re all fucking WELCOME.

[thebibliosphere]

Happy ten year anniversary to this fucking post 😂

[damnhotpocket]

Gema.piano on instagram

Why are all music teachers like this 😭😭😭

[communeist]

THEY ARE

[crematedequally]

when i was 8 i had a very intimidating russian woman as a music teacher- she was both my opera instructor and piano teacher. about a month into piano, she sat me down and said to my mother and i "this child- very beautiful voice, good for singing. i will not allow this child to continue piano. god did not want this child to play an instrument. he told me this in dreams. that is all."

my mom had it written down on a slip so we could remember the exact words because it was so funny. i HATED playing piano and i was definitely not good at it (i did end up having a good 5 years of opera training and ended up being a pretty accomplished choir singer though) and the idea of god sending my incredibly severe and serious russian piano teacher a dream begging her to stop teaching me piano was probably the funniest way it could have gone.

[phantomrose96]

See Them Buried

Clarissa Reynolds was the best seamstress in Amestris.

By legend, she could spend five minutes sizing a soldier up with her eyes, and churn out a perfectly fitting uniform for him in two days flat. The “five minutes” was untrue, and the “by sight” was a bit of an exaggeration, and “two days” was sometimes three or four—but all those aside, Clarissa’s work was perfect, and there was no room to argue that.

Clarissa was 42 now, with wrinkles around her chocolate eyes and corkscrewing hair that had grayed prematurely. With 20 years of professional practice under her belt, she’d made more than a name for herself among the Central military personnel. She was specifically picked for special people, or for problem cases, when they arose. She’d sewed every bit of Major Alex Armstrong’s uniform, whose proportions had left his first seamstress rather white in the face and overwhelmed.

Clarissa had personally been tasked with crafting the Fuhrer’s uniform. The other seamstresses held this as a point of admiration in Clarissa, as well as an inside jest. Clarissa was the only one of them to ever “work with” the Fuhrer, which was subtle phrasing to mean Clarissa was the only one among them who’d seen the Fuhrer stripped to his underwear. They asked how it was “working with” him, and Clarissa told them that Mrs. Bradley would perhaps not like this information to go public. She had no real desire to discuss the Fuhrer in his underwear—he’d been perfectly courteous and pleasant while being measured, which made him one of Clarissa’s more enjoyable jobs.

Her work followed her home, where she had two full rooms dedicated to her craft. She padded mannequins to match the proportions of current clients, and she worked late into the night fitting different folds of cloth over the dummies, over and over, until she found a pattern which fell just right. Her 14 year old daughter Violet liked to hang in the periphery and observe; her 12 year old son Conner liked to sit on a favorite step stool, swinging his legs and commenting on which orientations of navy blue fabric looked the most “bad ass”. He also reminded her to take the pins out of her hair every night when she left the room, a task she’d given him after pricking her husband a few dozen times too many in bed.

Keep reading

[noka-exe]

attempts at rapprochement

[tvguts]

every single time time i try to check facebook marketplace for furniture i get jumpscared by this (admittedly sick) custom baljeet coffee table

[cometcrystal]

out of the backyard gang baljeet is one of the worst to make into a coffee table. ferb would also be pretty bad. phineas and isabella would be mid because they have those bigass heads but the skinny bodies. might be worse than baljeet and ferb if you're a person who cares about symmetry. buford would objectively make the best coffee table because his silhouette has the most evenly-spaced surface area. now if you wanna talk about pnf characters in general i think pet mode perry would be the best coffee table out of all of them

[symbolblue]

love this kinda post where you have to have seen a different specific post for it to make any sense at all

[only-cat-memes]

[coolishfoolishness]

He's lying on the red paint because it has more positive associations than negative ones. C'mon, this is basic color theory

[heyhoneyfox]

This will never not be funny

[arson-the-artificer-offical]

This hellsite has one (1) joke

[type-blaze0]

Average Tumblr users have one joke actually a statistical error. The average tumblr user has hundreds of jokes, we're just so used to them we don't notice them anymore.

[transcarcinization]

try a Tangbyrd from Super Princess Warrior?

[hatokas-dreamengineer]

Tags via @ghostie-the-inkpot

[tobiasdrake]

Can you imagine being Gandalf? Getting shit from other wizards because you have a thing for hobbits and you're just like, okay. Okay, maybe I'll temper my fascination with hobbits.

This Ring quest will have two hobbits. Maximum.

Then they all get to Rivendell and have somehow multiplied into four hobbits. And it's like. Okay. Maybe the others are right.

Maybe this is too many hobbits.

We have as many hobbits as we have not-hobbits.

But damn it, you just don't want to get rid of any of these hobbits. Screw it! Everyone can deal. Four hobbits. This is a four hobbits problem.

So away you go.

And things go bad in the worst possible way.

Over and over.

You've lost your hobbits. You've lost yourself. The fellowship has been separated.

It takes everything in your power to help the humans defend themselves, bringing them together to save Rohan. Finally, as things begin to look upright, you're ready to face the war with everything the Rohirrim have left.

You're ready to face him. This may be the hardest battle you've ever fought. But you ride.

Then you get there and two of your fucking hobbits are sitting there like "Yeah, while you were gone, we raised a tree army and beat Saruman's ass. Wanna help us loot his tower?"

....

There were not, in fact, too many hobbits.

This was a four hobbits problem.

[elodieunderglass]

A wizard neither underestimates nor overestimates the number of hobbits needed for an equation. He, er, always has precisely as many as he needs to.