Reblog the gay d20 for good luck on all your LGBTInteractions™
This is probably my favorite thing anyone’s done to a post of mine and I’m proud of my little d20 for helping people crit their dreams

Andulka

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Three Goblin Art

Origami Around
Sade Olutola

Janaina Medeiros
we're not kids anymore.
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#extradirty

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One Nice Bug Per Day

Discoholic 🪩
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Not today Justin
wallacepolsom

izzy's playlists!
Stranger Things
Claire Keane
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Keni
seen from Albania
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seen from Malaysia
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@stormwolff
Reblog the gay d20 for good luck on all your LGBTInteractions™
This is probably my favorite thing anyone’s done to a post of mine and I’m proud of my little d20 for helping people crit their dreams
how to know you are a norse mythology geek:
upon seeing THIS in the thor: ragnarok trailer
you scream, “FENRIR! HI PUPPER!!!!”
IT GOT BETTER OMFG IM CRYING
Yeah… me too. I wanna pat the very big pupper.
And this is how The End is stopped. Not by the gods or goddesses, the other races than man, no. It is Tumblr. As a mass running after a now confused and tail tucking Fenrir, whining softly as the crowd chants “PUPPER! PUPPER! PUPPER!”
Better yet: Fenrir escapes his chains and lopes forward to destroy the earth, and is met by a crowd of people. An army, Fenrir thinks, and bares his teeth in a ferocious snarl and charges toward them.
They cheer.
Wait … cheer?
Fenrir slows, confused. He smells no fear, senses no rage. This is … a very strange army.
The first hand—weaponless!—reaches for him; he tenses, ready to tear the offending limb to shreds, and lets out a high little yippy whine when it pats him about the ears.
Immediately the noise is reproduced by some four or five of the nearest humans; he smells excitement; more hands are patting him.
It’s nice.
The humans crowd around him, patting him and scritching him and shuffling around to give others a chance. Voices coo, and make puppy noises, and someone catches just the right spot and he cocks his leg and scratches himself, drawing a multitude of oohs and ahhs and cheers and squees.
At some point, his hunger awakens at the scent of burnt flesh; a human has brought him what he later learns is a hot dog; he swallows it in one bite, to more cheering, and looks around hopefully for more.
It is not long before more is bought: steaks and Big Macs and bacon; it seems like much of the group has brought him a snack of some kind and was hoping for a chance to give it to him.
The End of the World is supposed to be at hand, but Fenrir does not care. His hunger sated, his battle-lust swept away by a tide of gently petting hands, he rolls over, careful not to crush his many companions, and takes a nap.
“Who’s a good boy?” they ask him, over and over.
Is this some psychological warfare, he wonders, designed to undermine his confidence and remind him that he is nothing more than a monster who needs to be chained?
“Who’s a good boy, huh, huh?” “Who’s my good boy?” “
And then one of them answers the question for him.
“You are!”
‘Me?’ he thinks. But if there was any doubt, she confirms it.
“You are, yes you are.”
Fenrir’s tongue hangs out of his mouth as he grins. ‘I’m a good boy!’
@lectorel
This is the best thing ever.
This would work. Fenrir was betrayed by gods that he trusted; they feared his strength and tricked him into accepting being bound because he trusted Tyr, his friend. (Loki was not directly involved in selling out his own son; usually Loki is involved any time someone gets tricked by the Aesir, but it’s notable that he was not, here.) The deal was that Tyr would put his arm in Fenrir’s mouth to prove that the gods were acting in good faith when they tied Fenrir up to “let him prove he could break the chain”; when he couldn’t break the chain, the gods refused to free him, and Fenrir bit Tyr’s arm off, because that was the deal.
So Fenrir has a serious rageboner going on against the Aesir and all of creation; that’s why he wants to eat the sun and end existence. A huge number of humans validating him, praising him, petting him and giving him yummy treats might actually convince him that, while the Aesir are still assholes and would deserve it if he ate them, he should not eat the sun because Midgardians are totally cool and give him petties.
FENRIR REDEMPTION ARC COMPLETE
fat bodies tutorial!
ALRIGHT SO my pal @kalreyno wanted help with drawing fat characters and as a fat artist i felt like i could give a bit of helpful insight on that. there’s also been a lot of complaining about “boo hoo fat characters are hard to draw so i can’t include them in my work Ever” goin on lately so if that’s your case then this is for you too!! and also just for anyone who would like help with fat bodies in general, ofc. anyway, let’s get this show on the road!!
let’s start with some common misconceptions. these are the two main attempts at chubby bodies i run into, so i’ll focus on them.
the Anime Chubby i see everywhere, and it’s just……so wrong in many ways. first of all, there is almost no additional body fat compared to your average thin character - except for where it’s added in “attractive” places (breasts, hips, thighs). the breasts are way too perky, and don’t have the realistic shape fat would give them (though how to draw accurate breasts is another tutorial all on its own lmao). there is still a thigh gap, which usually only happens in very thin people, and bones are still visible on the surface of the skin, which also rarely happens in fat people.
the Michelin Man is better in some ways, but still not that great. it’s a slightly better attempt, but basically all that’s done there is taking a thin character and blowing them up, while giving no thought to fat distribution. the thigh gap is usually still present, and they look a lot more hard than soft - and fat is very soft and pliable.
here’s a chart on how fat usually distributes (if you can’t read my messy writing, “1. next to no fat, 2. moderate amount, 3. most of the fat distribution”). basically, the more muscle an area has, the more prone it is to develop fat, such as the abdomen, thighs, and upper arms. it’s important to note that fat sits on top of muscle, and that it does distribute in different levels, and not evenly across the body as shown in the Michelin Man.
now, here’s an accurate fat body with all of that kept in mind!! notice how the fat isn’t only kept to aesthetically pleasing areas, and how it sits realistically on the character’s body. their breasts sag a lot more, which happens even in thin people with larger breasts, and the nipples are pointing more downwards than straight out. there is no thigh gap in sight, there are no bones in sight, and most importantly, they have fat rolls, which are very important in drawing a convincing fat character!! as far as i know i’ve never met a single person with no rolls at all, and everyone has them, whether thin or fat - they’re just more prominent and more consistently present in fat people. pay close attention to where they are and how they’re shaped.
here are a couple of drawings showing how fat is affected when sitting vs stretching. as seen in the first, the fat specifically on the stomach is distributed a lot more evenly and stretched out, so it becomes “flatter”. the love handles are still pretty visible, though, as well as the fat on the thighs and arms. the breasts are raised with the shoulders, and the fat on the shoulders and near the neck forms rolls as it’s being pushed together.
in the second, there is a lot less room for distribution, so the fat is all pushed together. the breasts sag and the stomach forms rolls and spills into the lap. a good analogy for the way fat works is to liken it to a water balloon, and thinking of how its shape would change when resting flat on a surface, hanging off of a ledge, held upright, etc.
here are a few extra tips i find a lot of people miss!
first on the top is the hip/pubic region. the first circle is showing the way the bellybutton is folded in fat people, as opposed to stretched out in thinner people. the second is the stomach fat spilling over onto the pubic region and creating a separation in the two areas, which is something that’s missing in a lot of art. in addition, the pubic mound also gains fat, making it round as seen in the profile drawing i did up there (i’ve heard people refer to it as fupa?). the last in the hip region is the lack of a thigh gap. i can’t stress this enough!!!! if you’re trying to draw a convincing fat character, make sure their thighs are pretty much always touching!! for reference, mine literally don’t separate until my feet are about 2ft from each other.
the bottom right is showing the double chin, which a lot of people are afraid to draw!! fat does distribute itself here too, and there’s nothing wrong with it, so don’t feel like you shouldn’t give fat characters a double chin in your work for fear of it looking like a caricature.
in the bottom middle, it’s showing how fat affects different types of breasts with the presence of more or less breast tissue.
lastly, at the very right are stretch marks with their usual locations and directions, which i also can’t stress enough!!!!! i sometimes forget to add them honestly, but they’re so important in accurately portraying fat characters, as they literally come from the skin being stretched from fat being gained (and they’re also just rlly neat lookin like why wouldn’t you lmao). some people have less and some people have more, feel free to experiment with them!
the last thing is body types!! there isn’t one single way for a person to be fat, so feel free to experiment with shapes once you’ve learned the basics!!
so there you have it, a tutorial on how to draw chubs!! now go forth and make some accurate fanart or some rad fat characters, because the world could always use more of both. hmu if you have any questions or concerns, and thanks for reading!!
EDIT: someone pointed out the bad wording in the tutorial. thank you for bringing it to my attention and sorry for offending anybody. i’ve updated the tut, so please reblog this one!
Okay so I am literally about to cry. I’m not an artist, but I love looking at art. And like. It makes me feel so worthless to see beautiful art with “fat” characters that are just extra curvey because I am so not that, and seeing only the sexy curvy drawings makes me feel like I am somehow the wrong kind of fat. But this. This is so spot on. I have stretch marks and I have a double chin and I have like a fatty pouch in my pelvic area and my breasts are not perky and my thighs do not touch and just… All of it. Seeing art of someone who looks like me makes me feel… Worthy. Some artist thought a body like mine was worth drawing, and that is so wonderful and validating and flattering. People enjoying said art is so good too. And like. Wow. I just want to cry.
This is a very good resource. Take note, people: “I wasn’t trained to draw fat people” is not an excuse.
engagement rings ranked by their ability to break someone’s nose
a pretty standard arrangement for engagement rings. a raised stone is better than nothing. 3/10
a lovely, simple, elegant wedding band. a classic anybody would be pleased to get married with. useless in a fight. 0/10
huge. tacky. kinda pretty tho. but look at that raised diamond in the center. you could easily break someone’s tooth with this. 7/10
also huge and tacky. at first glance you’d think the rounded edge might not cause much damage but look at how those rows of diamonds are raised in the second view. you could really rip up someone’s face. 9/10
this one is almost elegant. no sharp edges, but it’s solidly built. you would cause more damage with the ring on than off, which is a solid basis for choosing an engagement ring. 5/10
a lovely design, i enjoy open filigree. however im not sure how said filigree would stand up to the impact of being slammed into someone’s face. 2/10
the twisting design is pretty, but im not entirely sure that socking someone in the jaw wouldnt break off those stones. it looks somewhat reinforced but do you really want to leave the Punching Power of your engagement ring up to chance? i wouldnt. two raised stones tho. 6/10, pending experimentation
HAHAHAHA holy shit. thats Five raised stones, with reinforced prongs, for maximum damage at any angle. i highly recommend this ring both for its sapphire centerpiece and its capacity for causing pain. 10/10
there’s not even a stone, its just gold which aint exactly the hardest metal in the world. just fucking stay home if you’re not going to take this seriously.
*jeweler voice*
That filigree you gave 2/10? much sturdier than the filigree tacky rings… Trust me. Those are super hollow and light on the settings so that they aren’t too heavy or expensive. (and so they don’t roll on your finger)
Also worth noting:
White gold = sturdier than yellow gold (which is why most prongs are in white)
Now, if you want a ring that’ll hold up to socking someone in the nose, may I suggest 10kt white gold (hardest of gold options, sturdier than silver, and more reasonable than platinum)
See how thick all that metal is? It’s not going to cave in on you.
And you can do this with it:
Because nothing says punching a nazi in the nose like a diamond/sapphire/ruby encrusted Captain America ring…
read this again but imagine its Peggy Carter picking her engagement ring
yes. good.
Santa is on strike due to global warming. All presents this year will be delivered by Sasha the Christmas Tiger. Milk and cookies may not be sufficient.
“MUST BRING PRESENTS TO GOOD CHILDREN”
“Yes good”
“AND EAT THE BAD ONES”
“Wait no”
“EAT THEM”
“sasha no”
@burstofhope the Christmas tiger is watching
She is making a list
It is not easy with her paws but she is making it
shes almost here
Always always always reblog Sasha the Christmas Tiger
Tonight’s comic put food out for the cat last night, BUT
http://www.dieselsweeties.com/ics/358/
Oh gods. It's so true.
Needed this today
Cryptid
Every pixel of this image is filled with a protective energy. Reblog the shadow cat cryptid for good fortune and to receive glowing eyes.
cursed image, but the curse is on your enemies
Could use a little protective energy and good fortune right now...and a vacation
Date a girl who paints her nails with a color that doesnt exist
Fascism is real. Recognize the signs.
Calling Trump a fascist is not hyperbole. Look how he turns an apolitical Boy Scout jamboree into a caustic campaign stop.
Would like to print copies of this one to hand out in coffee shops and on Facebook comment threads
Ok, guys. It’s crunch time.
* McCain is coming back to DC to vote for this.
* We need to flip three.
* Vote will take place AFTER 2:00 PM EDT.
Only Collins is a firm no on the MTP or the motion to proceed.
Date a girl who can take you see nebulas and kisses you among the stars. Date a girl who thinks Earth is boring and spirits you away to planets across the galaxy.
On the topic of humans being everyone’s favorite Intergalactic versions of Gonzo the Great: Come on you guys, I’ve seen all the hilarious additions to my “humans are the friendly ones” post. We’re basically Steve Irwin meets Gonzo from the Muppets at this point. I love it.
But what if certain species of aliens have Rules for dealing with humans?
Don’t eat their food. If human food passes your lips/beak/membrane/other way of ingesting nutrients, you will never be satisfied with your ration bars again.
Don’t tell them your name. Humans can find you again once they know your name and this can be either life-saving or the absolute worst thing that could happen to you, depending on whether or not they favor you. Better to be on the safe side.
Winning a human’s favor will ensure that a great deal of luck is on your side, but if you anger them, they are wholly capable of wiping out everything you ever cared about. Do not anger them.
If you must anger them, carry a cage of X’arvizian bloodflies with you, for they resemble Earth mo-skee-toes and the human will avoid them.
This does not always work. Have a last will and testament ready.
Do not let them take you anywhere on your planet that you cannot fly a ship from. Beings who are spirited away to the human kingdom of Aria Fiv-Ti Won rarely return, and those that do are never quite the same.
Basically, humans are like the Fair Folk to some aliens and half of them are scared to death and the others are like alien teenagers who are like “I dare you to ask a human to take you to Earth”.
We knew about the planet called Earth for centuries before we made contact with its indigenous species, of course. We spent decades studying them from afar.
The first researchers had to fight for years to even get a grant, of course. They kept getting laughed out of the halls. A T-Class Death World that had not only produced sapient life, but a Stage Two civilization? It was a joke, obviously. It had to be a joke.
And then it wasn’t. And we all stopped laughing. Instead, we got very, very nervous.
We watched as the human civilizations not only survived, but grew, and thrived, and invented things that we had never even conceived of. Terrible things, weapons of war, implements of destruction as brutal and powerful as one would imagine a death world’s children to be. In the space of less than two thousand years, they had already produced implements of mass death that would have horrified the most callous dictators in the long, dark history of the galaxy.
Already, the children of Earth were the most terrifying creatures in the galaxy. They became the stuff of horror stories, nightly warnings told to children; huge, hulking, brutish things, that hacked and slashed and stabbed and shot and burned and survived, that built monstrous metal things that rumbled across the landscape and blasted buildings to ruin.
All that preserved us was their lack of space flight. In their obsession with murdering one another, the humans had locked themselves into a rigid framework of physics that thankfully omitted the equations necessary to achieve interstellar travel.
They became our bogeymen. Locked away in their prison planet, surrounded by a cordon of non-interference, prevented from ravaging the galaxy only by their own insatiable need to kill one another. Gruesome and terrible, yes - but at least we were safe.
Or so we thought.
The cities were called Hiroshima and Nagasaki. In the moment of their destruction, the humans unlocked a destructive force greater than any of us could ever have believed possible. It was at that moment that those of us who studied their technology knew their escape to be inevitable, and that no force in the universe could have hoped to stand against them.
The first human spacecraft were… exactly what we should have expected them to be. There were no elegant solar wings, no sleek, silvered hulls plying the ocean of stars. They did not soar on the stellar currents. They did not even register their existence. Humanity flew in the only way it could: on all-consuming pillars of fire, pounding space itself into submission with explosion after explosion. Their ships were crude, ugly, bulky things, huge slabs of metal welded together, built to withstand the inconceivable forces necessary to propel themselves into space through violence alone.
It was almost comical. The huge, dumb brutes simply strapped an explosive to their backs and let it throw them off of the planet.
We would have laughed, if it hadn’t terrified us.
Humanity, at long last, was awake.
It was a slow process. It took them nearly a hundred years to reach their nearest planetary neighbor; a hundred more to conquer the rest of their solar system. The process of refining their explosive propulsion systems - now powered by the same force that had melted their cities into glass less than a thousand years before - was slow and haphazard. But it worked. Year by year, they inched outward, conquering and subduing world after world that we had deemed unfit for habitation. They burrowed into moons, built orbital colonies around gas giants, even crafted habitats that drifted in the hearts of blazing nebulas. They never stopped. Never slowed.
The no-contact cordon was generous, and was extended by the day. As human colonies pushed farther and farther outward, we retreated, gave them the space that they wanted in a desperate attempt at… stalling for time, perhaps. Or some sort of appeasement. Or sheer, abject terror. Debates were held daily, arguing about whether or not first contact should be initiated, and how, and by whom, and with what failsafes. No agreement was ever reached.
We were comically unprepared for the humans to initiate contact themselves.
It was almost an accident. The humans had achieved another breakthrough in propulsion physics, and took an unexpected leap of several hundred light years, coming into orbit around an inhabited world.
What ensued was the diplomatic equivalent of everyone staring awkwardly at one another for a few moments, and then turning around and walking slowly out of the room.
The human ship leapt away after some thirty minutes without initiating any sort of formal communications, but we knew that we had been discovered, and the message of our existence was being carried back to Terra.
The situation in the senate could only be described as “absolute, incoherent panic”. They had discovered us before our preparations were complete. What would they want? What demands would they make? What hope did we have against them if they chose to wage war against us and claim the galaxy for themselves? The most meager of human ships was beyond our capacity to engage militarily; even unarmed transport vessels were so thickly armored as to be functionally indestructible to our weapons.
We waited, every day, certain that we were on the brink of war. We hunkered in our homes, and stared.
Across the darkness of space, humanity stared back.
There were other instances of contact. Human ships - armed, now - entering colonized space for a few scant moments, and then leaving upon finding our meager defensive batteries pointed in their direction. They never initiated communications. We were too frightened to.
A few weeks later, the humans discovered Alphari-296.
It was a border world. A new colony, on an ocean planet that was proving to be less hospitable than initially thought. Its military garrison was pitifully small to begin with. We had been trying desperately to shore it up, afraid that the humans might sense weakness and attack, but things were made complicated by the disease - the medical staff of the colonies were unable to devise a cure, or even a treatment, and what pitifully small population remained on the planet were slowly vomiting themselves to death.
When the human fleet arrived in orbit, the rest of the galaxy wrote Alphari-296 off as lost.
I was there, on the surface, when the great gray ships came screaming down from the sky. Crude, inelegant things, all jagged metal and sharp edges, barely holding together. I sat there, on the balcony of the clinic full of patients that I did not have the resources or the expertise to help, and looked up with the blank, empty, numb stare of one who is certain that they are about to die.
I remember the symbols emblazoned on the sides of each ship, glaring in the sun as the ships landed inelegantly on the spaceport landing pads that had never been designed for anything so large. It was the same symbol that was painted on the helmets of every human that strode out of the ships, carrying huge black cases, their faces obscured by dark visors. It was the first flag that humans ever carried into our worlds.
It was a crude image of a human figure, rendered in simple, straight lines, with a dot for the head. It was painted in white, over a red cross.
The first human to approach me was a female, though I did not learn this until much later - it was impossible to ascertain gender through the bulky suit and the mask. But she strode up the stairs onto the balcony, carrying that black case that was nearly the size of my entire body, and paused as I stared blankly up at her. I was vaguely aware that I was witnessing history, and quite certain that I would not live to tell of it.
Then, to my amazement, she said, in halting, uncertain words, “You are the head doctor?”
I nodded.
The visor cleared. The human bared its teeth at me. I learned later that this was a “grin”, an expression of friendship and happiness among their species.
“We are The Doctors Without Borders,” she said, speaking slowly and carefully. “We are here to help.”
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
THE ENDING
*cries with joy*
@figmentforms
That' was aweome.
The Rise of the Roomba
In response to this.
I wasn’t sure who had actually set it up. One of the Involved freshmen probably: knew enough to make the knife iron, still stupid enough to make a fucking Roomba with a knife taped onto it a reality.
“OW, FUCK,” yelled Mach, yanking his feet up onto the picnic table’s bench and gripping his left leg. “Something just sliced my ankle, what the hell.” Sure enough, when he removed his hand, it was smeared with blood and there was a neat slice just above where the bone jutted out.
“Is that… Is that what I think it is?” asked Peppermint, pointing to something gliding its way out from under our table. My face went completely blank in shock before I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose.
“Please tell me that someone did not make Stabby the Roomba a thing?”
“No can do,” said Peppermint, staring in a sort of horrified fascination after the small, round, knife-weilding vacuum cleaner.
“Oh look, it got Goldfinger,” Mach said almost dazedly as another student yelped and hopped around, clutching their ankle.
“…I don’t have the energy to deal with this,” I decided, turning back to my notes, which I was studying for an exam. My friends murmured agreement and resumed studying as well, though I noticed we all sat with our legs tucked up under us on the bench.
It wasn’t until we heard the wail that sounded like seven off-key violins all being sawed at by toddlers that we looked back up at each other, eyes wide.
“You don’t think-” Mach started, but he was cut off by another unearthly roar, this time like the sound of an avalanche hitting a wind chime factory.
“Time to go inside!” I said, hastily shoving my things in my bag as Mach and Peppermint were already sprinting for Peppermint’s dorm. “It’ll run out of battery eventually, right?” I asked as we slammed the door behind us.
I should have known better that to expect the exepected at EU; it did not run out of battery and no one ever seemed to be able to get close enough to just turn the damn thing off. For my four remaining months at EU, my sleep was interrupted by howls that came from mouths I didn’t want to imagine and chain mail leg warmers really came into fashion.
x
cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat
this cat lives in a show horse barn which is why it walks and runs that way
THIS CAT THINKS ITS A HORSE
Best cat
Daria or Jane?
Both