#I hope you found this helpful

[theresattrpgforthat]

Hey, I'm thinking of getting into the homebrew scene for TTRPGs, but don't really know any good starting points and know that at the end of the day its all about connections in the community. I know you're more for indie RPG advice rather than patreon content for discontinued games, but do you have any advice?

Hmm, I’m not sure how much help I can be answering this question, but I think one of the defining things of a community is the desire for everyone in it to do well - whether that’s designing a game, creating interesting home-brew, or getting listeners for your podcast.

In many ways, I think the TTRPG design community is an interconnected ecosystem: there are people who design, people who write reviews, people who create supplements, people who stream, and people who make podcasts. We all benefit from others in the space doing adjacent things, and rarely does doing one of those things exclude you from participating in some of the others.

I feel like a lot of the people I met in the space I met because I was doing something they found really helpful - I’m primarily collecting game recommendations under specific guidelines because of the number of times I’ve seen people asking about games that do X. I’m also creating character spreadsheets for games that I can’t find an online character sheet for. The biggest takeaway I’ve gotten from these endeavours is that I found an unfilled need, and I filled it. I put these out on the internet, and people showed up and showed interest.

I’m also entering game jams on Itch occasionally - in fact 80% of the games on my Itch page were created for game jams. I really like participating in the group part of this scene, and I started doing this mostly because I had more games that I was excited about than I could feasibly play in one year. I consider the game jam games to be ways to fuel and direct my creativity, as well as giving me concrete deadlines to ensure my work doesn’t founder in development hell. It also is a chance to see what other people are doing; what are people playing around with, what are people interested in making? Someday I hope to release something bigger, but I’m glad I’m doing these small bits and pieces first, because it’s helping me develop skills that I know I’m going to find useful down the road.

I don’t consider myself a prominent figure in any way shape or form, and I definitely feel welcomed by the feedback I’ve received from other designers who see what I do here. I’m also excited when I get to interact with other designers who do cool stuff that isn’t as well known yet - I’m not the only one getting my feet wet with game design and I am hopeful that those of us who are getting started at the same time get to watch each-other grow.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

ORV is about enduring the horrors in real time.

(for @everyonesfavoritebastard)

[stuckinapril]

I'm in food stamps and barely make rent each month but I'm managed to donate around 200 to the Palestine children's relief fund since Nov and it breaks my heart that I can't physically do anything to help like I feel like if I could I should be there trying to stop this horror you know and then I run into people who have way more means than me who are doing nothing and I'm like how can you live with yourself. How does the guilt not eat you alive

How does the guilt not eat you alive!!!! And they’re always the most self righteous ones too. “Why are you trying to disturb my peace with this” maybe because you don’t deserve to have peace for having the wealth and the means and doing nothing with it.

[averlym]

litany of the martyrs (click for better resolution!)

[yesokayiknow]

okay so you know how it goes: fourteen comes to life in thirteen's clothes. and they're both too short and too loose and entirely too bright for his frame of mind. they worked with a doctor who hid everything behind a too wide smile; not so much with a doctor whose pain and tiredness is written across his face

he needs to change. obviously

and then the star beast starts, and fourteen leaves the tardis, and he's still in thirteen's clothes

he just. he doesn't know. how does he choose new clothes? he feels wrong. how will wearing something else change that?

(donna tells him that it's christmas, mate; it's bloody freezing. maybe wear longer trousers, yeah? also he's both too young and too old to wear braces. just a friendly note)

he doesn't have to explain who he is to the unit scientist, not with those clothes. instead he talks about how he doesn't understand why he looks like this. why he is this. why this face? why isn't he someone new?

actually. maybe he is someone new. was he ever this open before? hm

why do you look like that, sylvia hisses, trying to hide him from the daughter he destroyed ruined left

it's a lottery, he replies, purposely ignorant

he still has his thirteenth self's screwdriver. it's too small in his hands

(the whole time they were her, her hands were too small. she didn't like touching anyway, but whenever someone took her hand, it felt wrong. they were too small. sometimes it felt like if she worked fast enough, tinkered about without stopping, she wouldn't have to look at them)

everything goes wrong. his fault, like always

(blimey. of all the things to carry over from the first time he had this face, it had to be the guilt, didn't it?)

you shouldn't look like that, the doctordonna says, and he runs a hand down his face with a tired laugh

no, the doctordonna says, not the face. a hand reaches out to grasp at the collar of his shirt, at the dangling earring chain. this isn't you. who are you, doctor?

like he knows. like they've ever-

she dies.

she lives. he doesn't deserve it. it isn't about him. he still doesn't deserve it

we're letting it go, donna says, and he looks down at himself, at another him's clothes, another him's screwdriver

well, she never was subtle, his donna

the tardis is gorgeous, though when isn't she. he tries to show off his new console to donna, and she rolls her eyes, and drags him off to the wardrobe

unlike normally, where all the clothes are scattered about, the new tardis wardrobe now also has a line of wardrobes stood against the wall. fifteen of them, to be exact

the last wardrobe is open. and empty

he goes to the second to last, and opens it to reveal a wide array of rainbow patterned shirts. she probably would've hated for her things to be organised like this. always creating mess so she wouldn't have to think about anything important. he laughs. and he takes off the sky coloured coat and the worn boots and the earrings and gently places them inside. tag, he thinks, as he closes the doors

and then he moves down to the eleventh wardrobe, full of brown coats and blue suits and neatly pressed shirts and pairs of converse. and he stands in front of it. and he wonders

after a moment, donna's like wait do you want me to leave?? you never cared about nudity before, did you? and he's like oh actually i do feel more self conscious. huh. weird.

he doesn't have to say, i think i'm a different person. not to donna. she just gives him a smile, and a shoulder nudge, and tells him she'll see him in the console room

the last wardrobe is empty

he takes a breath, and then goes to rummage about in the rest of the clothes

[toxintouch]

how do you think the lis would respond if mc sheepishly asked if they could fondle their tiddies? (even mhin, even though i KNOW they'd shank a bitch.)

Here ya go, Anon!! :3 They pronouns & non-specific language/MC used. Suggestive, but no other warnings.

AIS:

Pretends he doesn’t hear them.

“Hmm?”  He holds a hand to his ear, a toothy little smirk on his face, his scarred eyebrow raised.  The way he’s making direct eye contact is an unmistakable challenge.

“You wanna what now, Sparrow?” 

He knows exactly what MC said and they can tell.  He just wants to see if they'll say it again.  They didn’t sound so sure about whatever that request was just now…

His smirk grows when– (if?? But c’mon he’s so clearly saying yes, please) –

His smirk grows when they don’t back down.  He spreads his arms out in invitation, haori splaying open.

He’s patient for as long as he can stand once they get their hands on him but it isn’t long before he finds himself grabbing them by the wrists, pulling them closer.  Pressing his palms against the back of their hands to encourage them to make full, firm contact.  Haven’t they been warned?  He’s awfully greedy.

(And: if he purposely presses their touch against his heart for a moment, no one needs to know but him.)

VERE:

He gives them a blank look– a look unsettlingly similar to his hungry, flat eyed stare.  Though, it’s gone in an instant–so quick they might even be able to convince themself that they imagined it.  One blink and his entire expression is different, his tail swishing elegantly and with a flourish that can only be described as pleased.

“Well,” he purrs, “aren’t you just adorable?  I did tell you to ask next time you wanted to touch…  Very well then.  I’ll reward your ability to follow simple instructions.”  He relaxes luxuriously into the cushions of the divan that he’s resting on.  “Come along, then.  Fondle to your heart's content.  Don’t leave me waiting.”  He beckons to them with a crooked finger, tempting them closer, a haunting echo of their first meeting. 

Survival instincts be damned…he did give them permission…

He breathes a chuckle out as they touch him, his mouth hot against their ear as he buries a grin into their neck.

In the space of another breath, he’s flipped the two of them, leaving them pinned against the divan.

“You didn't think you were getting a single thing for free from me anymore, did you?  Tut tut.  After you treated my generosity so callously before?  From now on, I’ll be expecting payment in kind.  Quid pro quo, darling.”

KURAS:

He looks at them, eyes crinkled with amusement.  “Am I to take it that your interest is academic?  Studying anatomy, perhaps?  I do have a few select texts I could offer you which you might find quite beneficial.”

The embarrassed look on their face seems to amuse him further, the corners of his lips tugging up as he takes in their expression.

“Of course, the benefits of a more hands-on method of scholarship should not be overlooked.”  He takes pity on them, beckoning them over as he takes a seat on the doctor’s stool, right next to the cot where they first met him.  He neatly removes his coat, folding it and laying it to rest beside him.  Despite their fears, he doesn’t start listing out the anatomical names for things as they lay their hands on him.  His eyes slip shut as they rest their hands on his  shoulders–he’s still so tall, even sitting on the low stool–sliding their hands down, admiring the sturdy form and shape of him.

His own hands come up, clutching around their waist with surprising strength.  His eyes are bright and intense as he looks up at them.  They expect him to say something but he merely squeezes them–Possessively?–

Like he might be able to trap them in this moment with him forever, through will alone.

He closes his eyes again; his grip loosens. His self-control back is back in its necessary place, and he finds himself repentant.

“Forgive me.  You are quite endearing.  I simply find you…difficult to resist.”  He admits.

MHIN:

You are so correct anon.  Shanked immediately.  But MC bonks their head into Mhin’s chest on their way to the ground, so…  Achievement Unlocked? Or, for MC’s sake, I’ll assume that they have earned a level of trust/intimacy with Mhin that makes Mhin a lil' less likely to get stabby.

Mhin’s eyebrows furrow as Mhin crosses their arms, physically creating distance between MC and their…

Mhin’s cheeks go a little red as they realize how obvious their body language is, their pale eyes darting to the side as they worry about what other things they’ve accidentally telegraphed to MC. How many of Mhin's true thoughts and feelings are they privy to...?  Shaking themself mentally, they quickly snap out of it, pinning MC with a pointed glare.

“If you value your life at all, you’ll never ask me that again.”  Mhin marches away.  “Staying at the Wet Wick–around Leander–has ruined your brain.  You need to get out of that place while you still have some grey matter left.”

. . .

Later, escorting MC back to said Wet Wick, ducking through the lesser known and narrower streets after a long day of following dead ends together, Mhin finds the thought ruining their own brain.  It must be the heat of MC pressed against them in the alleyway, the comforting, all-consuming scent of them, the memory of MC’s flushed face while they were asking Mhin’s permission...  MC’s much braver than them, Mhin thinks bitterly, so much more willing to let themself have what they want, despite their cursed hands.  Mhin sighs, stopping abruptly.  Turning.  Pinching the bridge of their nose.

“Look–you can–”

Mhin feels themself blushing all the way down to their chest.  They open their mouth and close it a couple of times, attempting to articulate what they want.  They make a noise of aggravated frustration.  Carefully–very carefully, and very slowly, so that MC knows exactly what they are doing, they reach for the bandaged hands at MC’s side.  They rest MC’s hands lightly on their chest, shivering as they feel the brush of fingers against their clothed ribs, thumbs pressing into their sternum.  They bite down a noise that would surely make them perish where they stand.  Stars above, how long since–

“...Does your heart always beat this fast, Mhin?”

“Quiet.”  They snap.

Wow Mhin.  Right there in the alleyway huh?  Well ok then. I see what ur about.

LEANDER:

The two of them are alone in the room at the Wet Wick, just sitting together innocently on the bed when MC asks.

Well–they try to ask.

He hears them start the question and his coat and shirt (and tiddie belt) are coming off before they can even finish.  He gives them a quiet chuckle, blushing as his shirt(s) get caught at his shoulders. 

Though the perfect way it frames his boobs might convince them he did it on purpose…

“You meant skin to skin, right?”  He laughs again, leaning back on his hands and looking entirely too appetizing–is he arching his back a little more than necessary? 

“I don’t mind at all! Though, if you could help me with…”  His eyes crinkle as he smiles at them, head tilted like a puppy, waiting expectantly.

They get up from the bed to help him discard his remaining topmost layers of clothing, standing above him in order to better assist.  His eyes are pinned to theirs the moment the fabric barrier is fully cast aside.  “I…can’t say this is a bad view,” he admits, eyes roving along their form, tongue darting out to wet his lips.  Then, more sincerely: “I’m glad that you asked me for this.  Don’t be afraid to touch, all right?  Nothing bad will happen to me, promise. Remember: whatever you want.”

They find themself feeling along the edges of his scar, tracing the line of it across his pectoral…  His breath catching when they accidentally scratch him a little with their nails (MC is just a little clumsy–that was completely unintentionally, really) is dangerously addictive.

“Ah... Anywhere else you’d like to touch?  It would be a shame to waste this opportunity…”

If they're feeling shy, he could offer a few suggestions.  He really, really wants to help in any way he can. :)

BONUS!ELYON:   “You can, but I will have to charge.”

[rainbowtransform]

in all seriousness the new episode was amazing and wonderful and I thought Buddy Dawn was recording the Bad Kids’ battle so they can like study how to take them down but NO!! HE RLLY WAS THERE TO BRING THEM UP!!!

And kipperlilly rlly killed him. Like I wonder if… ohhhh I wonder if Buddy brought Kipperlilly in with him but then Kristen saw her

[eatmy-customjorts]

don't interrupt his tunes

[swordmaid]

i am wide awake thinking about that post canon jb au again when I should be sleeping …!!! such is the nature of the jbrainrot…

[heyclickadee]

Okay but for all we know Saw and his buddies picked Tech up (alive) on Eriadu.

[qangelbluebird]

Creation = The Thing (from the tubhole?)

Primary Protector (Creator (not used but could be)) = Tubbo

Rank 1 Shell = Sunny

Guardian = Philza

Shell (in general) = Eggs

Pancake Shell = Empanada

The Mother of Pancake Shell = Bagi

Duck Shell = Chayanne

Trauma Shell = Tallulah

[salt-baby]

I just don't understand people who don't do a COVID test when they get sick

[butterfilledpockets]

My friend, I am having the worst week but seeing 03 Raph wake up in a room full of weapons for his enjoyment was extremely comforting. Thank you for that. I cannot wait to see what chaos and destruction he reigns down on everyone else. <3

I am so glad you liked the Raph chapter!!!

A little behind the curtain thinking (I don't know if you the same anon as last 03 Raph lover) but I specifically added the extra page because I really wanted to give Raph the proper narrative intro he deserves.

I'm sorry about your bad week- here take this

it'll be okay, and if you ever need anythin' from the old shitheads the inbox is always open :)

bonus page:

[moviegremlin]

I think 9-1-1 should take more advantage that Ryan Guzman has danced before with the Step Up movies. I need an emergency where these skills can come to play. Like responding to a basic emergency on the street that breaks up some street dancing happening and for some reason Eddie has to step in to fight for the 118’s honor.

The crew? Concerned. They want to know why Eddie is delusional (again).

But then he kills it (obviously) and the rest of the crew is just like what??

Imagine the jokes from Chim? The glances from Hen. Bobby, he would love that he isn’t the only one that had like a random sport as a kid. And Buck? Buck can’t speak and is red in the face.

[yutamayo]

Do you think Geto Suguru deserved better friends?

Geto Suguru deserves the moon and the stars.

In relation to your question though, I think he had the great friends he deserved, but they just hadn't grown up in time to realize that friendship can't heal everything.

I think they tried their best with Geto, or felt they had at the time. They all had fun together, faced horrors, and grew together; but the mentality of "we can do anything" was a double edged sword.

For example, Gojo said "we're the strongest." The hope and naivete they all had in their ability to keep moving forward stopped them from ever imagining their friend could succumb to all the pain. I'm not blaming Geto in any way, but nobody is a mind reader. He wasn't well and it showed, but he did hide the majority of it from the people who would have helped him (if he had asked the right ones). I don't think he wanted to show weakness, a.k.a his wavering faith in the Jujutsu way, and I think that's why he asked the older sorcerer about his dark thoughts instead of his close friends. He saw them as they saw themselves; strong enough to overcome anything. And I believe they felt he saw himself that way too.

They had too much faith in strength because I know, even when noticing his struggles, they likely believed he'd get through it. He always had, until he didn't.

I don't think believing someone can get through struggle makes you a bad friend, and I wouldn't say they didn't try hard enough to notice the signs because at that point, they had too much faith. They all thought they were in it together.

Obviously we could say looking back, "Why didn't you keep asking him what was wrong, even though he answered 'nothing' the first time." But life, and friendship, isn't that simple. Unfortunately most people only learn to push past the face value of the people they love, when they've learned from previous misfortunes. And sadly, they had to learn that from Geto's downfall. What he did wasn't something they could recover from, obviously, so there was no, "Let's work on this."

It was just like every other shock, like when a friend commits suicide and you look back thinking, "I didn't know it was that bad."

On top of the fact they were distracted by life & death situations every day/basically saving the world, and alongside the fact I don't believe anything like that had happened with a Jujutsu Sorcerer before Geto, they just didn't think it was a possibility.

I get that, and I feel that anyone who says they don't, is lying to themselves.

That's why people remind others to check in on their friends. Like, really check in. Sometimes, we have too much faith in our loved ones strengths.

He had amazing friends, and I only wish they had been given the opportunity to express their pain more. If anything, I blame the leaders and higher-ups at JJHigh. They definitely didn't have enough mental/emotional supports for the literal teenagers thrown into that kind of world, and I could never blame those kids for not understanding the consequences of carrying that weight until they were forced to face them.

It reminds me of a quote I love;

-

I'm sorry I keep saying, how are you? When I really mean, are you happy? - Ocean Vuong

-

I know this is an anime post but, check in on your loved ones, please.

And ask twice.

[elllteo]

Creators I love you but it's time to wake up

Among rumors about our tumblr user data being sold off to Midjourney/Generative AI, recent Extremely transphobic events (that have been ongoing) coming to a head, another extremely concerning internet censorship bill being pushed in upper levels of government, and a general air of frustration over how the site belongs to and is operated by perhaps the second stupidest CEO (second only to twitters own) of our age, I'm very done with the last few vestiges of what the old internet held for artists.

And if you're reading this, you probably are too.

I know we're tired. We are all tired. It is not always viable to pack up shop and move, again and again and again.

From tumblr to twitter to anywhere else we've ever grown up posting, things no longer work. Our audiences are kneecapped by aggressive and hostile algorithms, our reach is abysmal - if we aren't shadow-banned or silenced for one (transphobic) reason or another, we're thrust into an ever growing pit of hostility where the only thing that drives clicks is fighting and contention.

We're tired. We're so fucking tired. We aren't businesses, we aren't content mills, we cannot keep this pace that modern social media has set for us, to wring every ounce of creativity out of us to profit from and leave us rotting.

The key to staying afloat here, and I cannot stress this enough, is to stay connected to your peers.

Pack up and move as units if you must. Exodus from the sites that are killing us. Push your entire friend group of artists to move from one site to the next that promises you a kinder experience.

Art drives movements, it drives change, it is all that encompasses being human. If you take that away from the shitty places, they will be left with nothing but a cesspit of inhumanity and the people who follow you will be more incentivized than ever to move with you.

Yes, this is terrifying. There are no guarantees. There never was, and never are, and never will be.

But stay connected. Stay human.

Support each other and be willing to hold hands and jump when we all - as a group - need to jump from the flames we're all trying to convince ourselves wont kill us before rescue comes.

Rescue isn't coming, rescue will be found hand in hand with each other. I'm offering you my hand, please take it. There's always a new start, there are always helping hands reaching for you. You have to look up from the doom-scroll long enough to see and take them.