#SO. so. so!

[inwhichcronusgetshisasskicked]

You've been known to pick fights just for the physical contact before, but this time was an accident, you swear to God.

You take a step back, raise your hands in defense and give a sharp-toothed apologetic smile at the pissed Makara. He's always so God damn hard to interpret. So what if you hadn't taken the time to learn how to read sign language, that's not your fault. You're a busy guy! (even though you're not) Besides, he knows you don't know how to read it. Would it kill him to use a fucking chalkboard?

You don't think you said anything that offensive. Not actually. Your pick-up lines usually don't get a rise out of people this quickly, no matter how cheesy they are.

Maybe it doesn't matter what the hell you said. Maybe it's the way you were interpreted. You decide it's probably that. You decide you get misunderstood all the God damn time, or that people just take it too personally when you're a little crude. As if it's your fault.

Your smile falters a little as the troll takes a step towards you and you finally open your mouth. You decide it's probably best to de-escalate the situation somehow, not that that usually works when you get yourself into shit like this. You wonder, with a twinge of hope, if this is a sign of flinging spades. You know it's not.

"hey, come on, chief, let's just forget about this. it's not like either of us vwant to actually fight or anythin'. i mean, i'm not exactly scravwny, i'd giwve you fight to the bitter e-"

You don't get any further before you're yanked up by the collar of your jacket and backhanded, the mime glowering down at you, and, unbeknownst to you, signing angrily at you. About how he sees the way you treat Mituna. About how he doesn't fucking appreciate you treating his diamond like that. About how he'll string your limbs up like God damn Christmas decorations if you don't knock that shit off. He's proper cursing you out and you have no God damn idea what's happening, staring dumbfounded at his rapidly moving hand. Then he smacks you again, and you decide you could give a shit what the hell he's signing, pusher lurching against your sternum as you wonder if he's hinting at pitch again. He's not. You know he's not, but a guy's gotta have hope.

You taste blood in your mouth and wonder if your lips crashed into your teeth the first or the second time he smacked you. You swallow thickly, giving a terse nod. You don't know what the hell he just said to you but you figure it's probably best to agree with him.

"yeah, you got it boss. vwhatewver you say."

You don't even realize your feet are dangling a few centimeters above the ground before he drops you to the floor and you get reintroduced to gravity. You fall on your ass, and he leaves with a scowl. You wipe the blood off your split lip.

Well. That backfired. Maybe you'll just stop trying to be friendly to clowns.

Probably safer that way.

[noodles-07]

"it's all in your head" correct! unfortunately I am also in there

[unalivejournal]

[grunklebongrip]

When a fic doesn’t fit my head canons but it’s well-written

[szczekaczz]

Henriëtte Ronner-Knip, A dog and her puppies

[lieutenant-sarcastic]

Fuck moon’s taking poison damage

[crimsonservbot]

You ever hear that old chestnut about how most people neglect the part of the story of Icarus where he also had to avoid flying too low, lest the spray of the sea soak his feathers and cause him to fall and drown? You ever think about how different the world would be if Icarus died that way instead? If the idiom was to Fly To Close To The Sea? A warning against playing it far too safe, about not stretching your wings and soaring properly? You ever think about how Icarus died because he was happy?

[vee-lociraptor]

tiktok refugees i believe you are few but it is VITAL that you know on tumblr you can speak freely. kill. die. sex. fuck. you can say things here

[yuttikkele]

hey gamers I’ve started watching star trek does anyone else see the romantic tension between captain kirk and mr. spock

[homunculus-argument]

This counts as vent art.

[redrook]

I spent a lot of time handcuffed and in a cage in high school, for a charity bit the grocery store I worked at would do

the bit was that I was "put in jail for having too big a heart" and customers could donate to my bail to get me out (and the money would go to a children's hospital or something)

now. I was very clearly a teenaged employee handcuffed inside a large cage. and I would honestly tell people that I had been in there for hours. and people would say, that's terrible! that's awful! and I would show them my wrists red from the tight handcuffs, and say but I'm sooooooo close to making bail.

and then they would dump some cash in the basket, I'd thank them, and they'd walk away.

and every so often, one of the managers would come by and collect some of the cash, so I could keep being soooooo close to making bail.

I was very good with this bit. Parents with small kids would pay $5-10 if I told their children I had been placed in jail for not cleaning my room/doing my homework, etc. For people in their 20s, I'd threaten that I was very bad at playing the harmonica, but I WOULD play it and we'd all suffer unless they paid me. and for the most amount of money, older men in suits would almost always pay $20s if I avoided eye contact and stammered a lot.

eventually, the managers started to feel bad because I was in the cage so fucking long and often, that I'd need someone to brace me when I got out because I'd have no feeling in my legs. wobbling like a newborn giraffe.

but I would also rake in at LEAST $100 an hour in charity.

so they were like, hey champ. can we, uh, give you a pillow to sit on. in the cage. would you like a pillow so you're not just sitting on a cold metal slab. can we give you a pillow.

and I had to explain to them that if they gave me a pillow, people would think I was more comfortable, so they wouldn't feel as bad, so I'd bring in less money.

the compromise was that they'd bring me a nice coffee every couple hours, which I would have to try to block with my body from the customers.

all this money went to charity. that's what the money was for. it's what was on the sign. but how much they were willing to pay was very contingent on how comfortable I looked, never mind the fact that I was still a teenaged employee handcuffed inside a cage.

and out of the dozens of shifts I did this on, not ONCE did ANYONE say, hey kid I'm going to go talk to your manager because what the fuck is going on here. they would just drop money in the basket, and I'd thank them and sip from my secret drink.

I actually had people get MAD at me that I told them I was far away from bail, they donated like $15, and then 20 minutes I got let out because my shift ended.

again. the money was for charity. it was on the sign that was very clearly placed on the upper half of my cage.

so yeah. even when people think they mean well. people can be really, really fucking stupid.

[amayikes]

So on the 27th DeepSeek R1 dropped (a chinese version of ChatGPT that is open source, free and beats GPT's 200 dollar subscription, using less resources and less money) and the tech market just had a loss of $1,2 Trillion.

Source

[stealingpotatoes]

it’s eunuch Tucker’s adoptiversary and defacto birthday today <3

[bloodbending]

can’t believe tiktok is actually getting banned, twitter is infested with bots and brainworm-infested musk bootlickers, facebook is king of QAnon, instagram caught the plague from facebook and is dying a slow death in real time… and as the dust settles… only Miss Tumblr is left standing… failing upwards once again

[lieutenant-sarcastic]

For Years my brother has been fucking with me by periodically texting me to say Jimmy Carter had finally died. Today the bit has paid off.

The response to my reaction at work was “what do you MEAN ‘for real this time’?????”

I fucking hate it here I’m crying