#I don't know what to write here

[thegoodduckfan]

The best thing about Tumblr is that unlike Twitter looking up Scrooge McDuck won't show you a bunch of losers saying things like "Scrooge so rich, he dive in money" or "wow you greedy like Scrooge McQuack" or NFT bros.

Here the losers that talk about Scrooge aren't AI bros that envy the rich, they're nerds that care way too much about fictional birds (very much like me)

[lime-ether]

So for research purposes since you’re more familiar with the bonehead crew’s characterization than me. What would they think of these three from The Living Tombstone?

From left to right

zero_one / The Coded / First appeared : Chosen

DrunkGuy (yeah I’m dead serious that’s his canon name) / The Alcoholic / First appeared : Drunk

SkullGuy / The Hero / First appeared : Love I Need

...

Okay, I didn’t expect anyone to approach me like that, but it seems to me that at least the boneheads will be interested in these guys? Like indie-rock it's cool

It seems to me that this will be especially familiar to Lewis (because of all the guys he is the youngest and died in a rather modern time than, for example, Daniel)

Brook, I don't know, Soul Rock????.....

Papyrus would be interested in these guys too, especially in Skullguy ( he might think, that guy wearing combat armor)

But it also seems that zero_one I would also like to show hi strength

And Drunkguy Well, obviously he would have teamed up with Sans and maybe he would have liked his pun, maybe

In any case, if these guys know how to have fun, then maybe the boneheads won't mind the singer-company

(although these three guys aren't even skeletons)

But yes, I read what you wrote about these guys and it’s quite interesting, I’d read more~~

Honestly, I’m not very keen on The Living Tombstone... And I never followed these guys because I had a different taste in music, but I'm glad that they are still creating music and are alive and well.

I THINK-

[00lari00]

:D

This weekend I'm going to a farm with no internet, so I won't be very active these days.

But I'll draw some things there... Can you guys give me some things to draw while I'm there? 👀

[alenboxman]

Sorry, guys :"") I was recently diagnosed with depression For a time, it was very difficult for me to draw at least something similar to a sketch, but now I feel a bit better and I'll keep going I just want to let you know that my condition may worsen in certain periods, so drawings may be delayed (yeeeeeep")

[genthus]

firstPost

Hi! this is evidently my first post. I've recently joined tumblr due to recent events with other social media sites. I'm still not sure what this page will become or if it will even become anything. But regardless, here's a little intro to me and the stuff I do.

Genthus, aspiring digital illustrator. I am soon (hopefully) graduating from university and planning on working on software development. I draw as much as I can and hope to eventually make it my main thing. I am also learning japanese and generally inteeresting in anime stuff.

Anyways, welcome and thanks for stopping by.

[thegeekcloud]

I call this challenge:

I'll give you the biggest crushes i've ever had and you guess something about myself

Here you go😊😳:

I see a trend

I hereby challenge @redheadkittys @pn3um6 @aquagirl1978 and anyone who feels like making a guess. I'm scared of tagging some other mutuals cause I feel like i've annoyed them way too much already 😅💁‍♀️

[kkain-m]

[cosm0-debil]

I'm so tired. I'm so fucking tired. I really love culture and etc. of my country, but it's impossible to live here quietly. And the worst part is that I can't even do anything because I'm still teen.

[deweythemoth]

i'm writing fanfics rn, my asks are open while i'm doing so >:)

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[glorious-spoon]

i know we all laugh (mostly fondly) about the paper-thin plots in porn that only exist to make the sex happen, but i was reading some old stargate fic over the weekend, and i really think we're sleeping on the paper-thin hurt/comfort plot that only exists to force the characters to FEEL THINGS.

like, is this scenario realistic? no. does it make any rational sense? no. does it provide a built-in excuse for a character to collapse, bloody and disoriented, into the arms of his beloved/friend/partner? obviously, that's the whole point of this exercise.

i love it. it's my favorite thing in the world.

[thegoodduckfan]

I was really bored in school today so I decided to draw a flower with math. I really like just messing with Desmos every once in a while.

[captain-flint]

something something Ed not being able to step in to protect Stede from physical and emotional harm out of fear of damaging Stede's reputation and instead letting it play out as he silently falls apart in the background

[deep-space-lines]

okay but like. I just had the weirdest thought about that ‘don’t look I’m naked’ comic. Which is that that’s essentially the same thing Adam and Eve did after they ate the fruit of knowledge of good&evil. So I feel like the theological implications of that could kneecap Gabe if he doesn’t think V1 is a being with free will.

yeah ok. i dunno man. is this anything

((side note. this isn’t necessarily meant to be in-character or story-accurate or take place at any particular point in time, just a way to explore some Thoughts. i was also imagining more that V1’s words aren't actually spoken, more like Gabriel’s more articulate interpretation of whatever garbled mechanical noise V1 is using to communicate. I think an angel could do that.))

and then they fucked nasty the end

[solarmorrigan]

Well, Hello, Sailor

written for @steddiemicrofic | prompt: ‘pin’ | wc: 388 | rated: T | cw: slightly racy photos?

“Oh my god,” Eddie gasps.

“Oh my god,” Steve echoes, groaning.

Eddie hadn’t meant to drop the box, but it was heavy; it had been a rescue from the back of Steve’s closet as they moved his stuff out of his old apartment (preparing to move into their new one, together), and it had been full of forgotten papers and old magazines and – photos.

The stash had spilled out in front of Eddie like it had been waiting for him, full-color and glossy and glorious.

There’s Steve posed front and center, on his knees and looking back over his shoulder at the camera. He’s wearing a little pair of navy blue shorts and a little red ascot and precious little else. The shorts are indecently high-cut, hugging his ass like they were made for it, but it’s the sailor hat settled jauntily on top of his head that really makes it for Eddie. Steve’s eyes are wide and sweet, as if he’s been caught by surprise, with his lips parted in that inviting way that haunts Eddie’s dreams, even though he can technically see it any time he likes now.

He’s the very picture of a perfect little pin-up boy.

“Oh my god,” Eddie says again, unable to get much else out.

“It was– uh, for a magazine,” Steve stutters out. “I forgot I even had copies of that shoot.”

“Uh huh.” Eddie nods, still staring, mesmerized, at the pictures in his hands.

“It was during college, after my dad cut me off. I needed another job, and this paid, like, surprisingly well, and–”

“It damn well better have,” Eddie says, finally smirking up at Steve. “I bet they made bank off of you, baby.”

Steve pauses, blinking. “You’re not– upset?”

“Why would I be upset?” Eddie asks; honestly, he’ll only be upset if Steve tries to pry the photos away from him before he’s had a chance to thoroughly inspect them.

“Just– some people have gotten… jealous, I guess?” Steve shrugs, glancing away.

“Other people can look if they want.” Eddie leans over to press a reassuring kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth. “I know I’m the only one who gets you live and in person.”

Slowly, Steve smiles. “Well. If you like the sailor shoot, I bet you’ll love some of the others.”

“Others?”

[niarval]

hey just joined tumblr hiii

i really like splatoon and project sekai, i'm also a profesionnal dumbass

hi again?