kingbob2-0

[kingbob2-0]

me, starting a new game: i’m gonna be evil this time

me, 5 minutes into said game: Being Mean Is Not Nice

[kingbob2-0]

I do not "render." I do not "shade." I do not "paint," I do not "detail" and i do not draw "Backgrounds." I draw BLAND CHARACTERS standing in WHITE VOIDS And if it doesn't look good i GIVE UP.

[kingbob2-0]

[kingbob2-0]

this is why i can’t fucking introduce kingdom hearts to my friends

[kingbob2-0]

I've survived my first day on Tumblr

Achievements:

Don't shoot! I'm friendly!: Prove you're not a bot

AI dismemberment: Disable algorithm settings

Friends?: Gained a mutual

I recognize you: Follow someone you know from r/Tumblr

MY EYES!: Change the site palette

Great Idea: Reblog a post

They love me: Have a post reblogged

[kingbob2-0]

PSA: AO3 HAS BEEN INFECTED WITH AI BOT COMMENTS.

Have you seen one of these dipshits? If you post regularly on ao3, chances are YES, but more likely you didn't notice nor suspect it was a bot. Sometimes they start off nice, or even praise you before getting nasty out of nowhere, like so:

But much like Grok, their newest obsession is nazism.

I don't know where they come from, or what purpose this could possibly serve other than suicidebaiting random people in the internet, I guess; but apparently they've started parroting names from real users to send these comments and shifting their general length to go by undetected. Maybe those are scrappers trying to train 'reviewbots' to be sold as part of some scam service promising to give feedback for newbie writers, who the fuck knows.

Here are more examples of the tone and backhanded compliments you can find in these:

If you regularly post on AO3 or interact with writers in it, please pass this along so they don't feel insane receiving bombs in their inbox. This is ridiculous.

[kingbob2-0]

I don't want my cellphone to have AI I want it to have 3 days of battery time. I don't want my computer to have AI preinstalled I want it to have seven usb ports and high ram at affordable price. I don't want my games to have AI built levels I want them to be so optimized I could run them on a nokia.

[kingbob2-0]

Being a little too cold: brrrr i’m a little too cold !!!

Being a little too warm: i am going to kill the next person who makes eye contact with me.

[kingbob2-0]

Sometimes Tumblr is a lot like trying to explain a toddler that you can't eat bugs and spiders because that's bad for you, and then someone shows up to lecture you about how spiders are a completely different class from insects, also you got "centipede" and "millipede" mixed up, so obviously you don't know anything about what you're talking about.

And if you try to answer like "do you want me to just let this kid just eat bugs or what", they'll get offended because correcting you about being wrong has nothing to do with implying that anyone would be eating bugs off the ground, obviously nobody is stupid enough to be doing that in the first place, that's a straw man and insulting to every group of people ever.

And then you look up at the other side of the yard and the toddler is there right back at it, slurping up centipedes like spagetti.

[kingbob2-0]

If I ever wrote a superhero story I’d want there to be a recurring shitty C-list supervillain in the background whose power was changing something’s colour and all her villainous plots would be colour-themed things like “If the city council doesn’t give me a million dollars, I will turn the city of GREEN Bay into the city of RED Bay!” and she’d turn the Golden Gate Bridge magenta or whatever.

So it’s all low-stakes villainy, but everyone absolutely hates fighting her because her very shitty superpower works really really well, and there are dozens of background characters who’ve fought her that are just permanently green now

[kingbob2-0]

These voice actors wildin’

[kingbob2-0]

✨️ The Enrichment has Enriched! ✨️

[kingbob2-0]

when you’re reading fanfiction and you get so involved in the story you start imagining different scenarios in that same universe and then it’s fanfiction fanfiction

[kingbob2-0]

take a break while watching this little bunny cross your dash

[kingbob2-0]

beating breath of the wild in under 40 minutes is an incredible feat and also fucking excellent in the context of the game. ganon spends 100 fucking years preparing this onslaught, building energy, getting ready to tear the world apart, and one elf twink wakes up butt-ass naked in a cave and legs it to the castle and kicks ganon’s ass apart in under an hour with a sword he found along the way

[kingbob2-0]

If ANY of yall EVER do this shit to me, im deleting every single fic out of spite.

If I ever catch one of yall doing this to another author and I know youre a follower of my work I will block you personally on every platform

None of yall are the fic police. I DESPISE genai. I think its an insult to art, humanity, and the planet itself. But aint not a single fucking person here qualified to pick apart a strangers fic looking for a gotcha moment to make yourselves feel superior. If you think something is ai you can ask the author (most are proud of the ai use and will just tell you straight up) if they say yes you have your answer and can warn people. If they say no and you dont believe them you block and quietly keep it between you and maybe a close group of friends. Spreading misinformation is DANGEROUS. And NONE of you doing this shit are anywhere near qualified to do it.

THIS GOES DOUBLY FOR ARTISTS.

[kingbob2-0]

Last week I accidentally took an edible at 10x my usual dose. I say “accidentally” but it was really more of a “my friend held it out to my face and I impulsively swallowed it like a python”, which was technically on purpose but still an accident in that my squamate instincts acted faster than my ability to assess the situation and ask myself if I really wanted to get Atreides high or not.

Anyway. I was painting the wall when it hit. My friend heard me make a noise and asked what was wrong—I explained that I had just fallen through several portals. I realized that painting the wall fulfilled my entire hierarchy of needs, and was absolutely sure that I was on track to escaping the cycle of samsara if I just kept at it a little longer. I was thwarted on my journey towards nirvana only by the fact that I ran out of paint.

Seeking a surrogate act of humble service through which I might be redeemed and made human, I turned to unwashed dishes in the sink and took up the holy weapon of the sponge. I was partway through cleaning the blender when it REALLY hit.

You ever clean a blender? It’s a shockingly intimate act. They are complex tools. One of the most complicated denizens of the kitchen. Glass and steel and rubber and plastic. Fuck! They’ve got gaskets. You can’t just scrub ‘em and rinse them down like any other piece of shit dish. You’ve got to dissemble them piece by piece, groove by sensitive groove, taking care to lavish the spinning blades with cautious attention. There’s something sensual about it. Something strangely vulnerable.

As I stood there, turning the pieces over in my hands, I thought about all the things we ask of blenders. They don’t have an easy job. They are hard laborers taking on a thankless task. I have used them so roughly in my haste for high-density smoothies, pushing them to their limits and occasionally breaking them. I remembered the smell of acrid smoke and decaying rubber that filled the kitchen in the break room the last time I tried to make a smoothie at work—the motor overtaxed and melted, the gasket cracked and brittle. Strawberry slurry leaked out of it like the blood of a slain animal.

Was this blender built to last? Or was it doomed to an early grave in some distant landfill by the genetic disorder of planned obsolescence? I didn’t know, and was far too high to make an educated guess. But I knew that whatever care and tenderness and empathy I put into it, the more respect for the partnership of man and machine, the better it would perform for me.

This thought filled me with a surge of affection. However long its lifespan, I wanted it to be filled with dignity and love and understanding. I thought: I bet no one has hugged this blender before. And so I lifted it from its base.

A blender is roughly the size and shape of a human baby. Cradling one in your arms satisfies a primal need. A month ago I was permitted to hold an infant for the first time in my life, an experience which was physically and psychologically healing. I felt an echo of that satisfaction holding my friend the blender, and the thought of parting with it felt even more ridiculous than bringing it with me to hang out on my friend’s bed.