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it may be the sleep deprivation talking, but realizing my go-to for drawing is a goofy and stupid ( ⊙ ᗜ ⊙ ) face for margin doodles and a LOT worse than my actual art style is killing me

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i love drawing double-sided charms and playing with them

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Nailed It is fairly lighthearted and no one is too upset about being eliminated

the later seasons are not as good as the earlier ones though for sure

(earlier seasons adhere to the concept of people who are very bad at baking being asked to perform complex baking and doing bad at it because of their own hubris. Later seasons fixate on the doing bad at it to the detriment of the show; the tasks comtestants are given are more and more impossible such that even professional chefs would not be able to accomplish them.)

School of Chocolate technically doesn't have eliminations, though there's definitely still interpersonal drama

Forged in Fire meanwhile has eliminations but I would say they're not too negative

it's one of the few weekly competition reality shows that acknowledges that the challenge presented in the show is very different from what people might face elsewhere, and that failure isn't really indicative of a lack of skill

I started watching some dumb reality TV show partially as TV-watching practice and partially to wind down for the night but I had to turn it off every time a contestant got eliminated bc I felt sad for them :/

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totally random but if either of you play Pentiment and end up liking it, I highly recommend following tumblr user astriiformes

he absolutely loves Pentiment and is dying for people to talk about it with

I like Triple Click more than the Besties as far as podcast structure his, however the thing about Besties I appreciate is Justin's presence because he, like me, doesn't like playing videogames.

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Might I recommend this guide

https://www.tumblr.com/ms-demeanor/726015098368475136/so-you-need-to-buy-a-computer-but-you-dont-know?source=share

and following the blog okay-computer

So I have two leads on mattress jobs. I’m still stressed about work environment but I can do hard things. I do need to get a laptop though so I can work on art and rigging while I’m sitting around.

Anyone have recommendations for an okay laptop that can run a pretty beefy program like Maya?

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One persons body horror is another persons body horny.

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don't listen to them become the sunburn fishscale mermaid of your dreams

PSA gays: if you're wearing a mesh/lace shirt to a pride fest, sunscreen your whole chest/back before putting it on. I can't live to see another diva fall prey to sunburns with bizarrely specific patterns.

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I put a lock on my door without permission as a 16yo and my dad took my door off its hinges, then took the doorknob. I had to figure out how to reinstall the door myself.

If you do something like this without permission, they will probably take measures to counteract it.

If you want to get something anyway, my advice is to get a wedge doorstop instead, preferably a wooden one. You'd only be able to use it when you're in the room, not when you're gone, but it's better than nothing. A wooden wedge doorstop is cheap, easy to use, and could be framed as you just wanting them to knock and let you get the door, rather than you trying to keep them out altogether.

WIBTA for installing a door lock behind my parent's back?

💙 (to find later)

I'm gonna keep this pretty short- I'm sixteen, and my parents are... okay? They could certainly be worse, but all things considered they suck in a lot of ways. One of the biggest things is privacy. For example my dad demands to know the passwords to my phone, and will get angry if I change it without telling him or ask why he needs it- I would say all things considered I'm a pretty good kid, my grades are low but I don't do drugs or anything. The suspicion seems a bit unwarranted. My parents do 'knock' before they come in my room, but they do so literally as they open the door- I've just started yelling "I'M CHANGING" as soon as I hear them now, and that doesn't even always stop my mom. I've been thinking about getting a simple lock, ideally trying to find something that doesn't damage the wall or door, and installing it myself. Is this an overreaction? I've asked them not to, and I've asked for a lock. The response is generally along the lines of "why don't you trust us, it's not like we go into your room" (they do, my mom will happily go in without asking me) or "do you have something to hide?"

So yeah advice is appreciated

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@samreich

I know a lot is going on in the world right now but this kind of loss of art is breaking my heart in two.

The Valentino’s Costume Group in Hollywood has lost everything after the death of their co-founder, the pandemic, strikes, etc. and is now being forced to do a very quick liquidation sale before having to send all of their years of hard work to be turned into rags. (Yes this is a real thing)

These people have crafted thousands of costumes over 20 years to rent to everyone and anyone who needed one. They’re sex worker and queer friendly. They’re also being accused of being “fast fashion” while being one of the few places in this world actively working against fast fashion with their work. They don’t want to have to turn their hard work into rags. It’s the only option for them with the enormous amount of costumes/fabrics they have to remove from the building very quickly.

So, Californians and anyone willing to travel to Hollywood: YOU can save a costume! (or two?) YOU can save someone’s art from being destroyed! YOU can own pieces of Hollywood! YOU can save so much sewing supplies and fabrics!

Where: 5535 CAHUENGA BLVD, N. HOLLYWOOD

Phone: 818-427-5248

Special hours for Influencers: May 20-30th 9:30am-4:30pm MON-SUN

What: Vintage, designer, menswear, historical, specialty, children’s, shoes, jewelry, vintage hats, show packages, racks, fabric, etc!

Important note: Please be kind and patient with the folks managing this sale. There’s maybe 2-3 people working at the most, and they all just suffered the death of someone close to them and the loss of their dream.

Please, please signal boost this. Their hard work should not go to waste and this terrible loss is already hard enough on them.

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You didnt ask but re: fanfic commissions-

The market for them is more limited than fanart for sure. And if you do them, they have to be done more quietly than fanart.

1) If you use AO3, do not mention anywhere on it that you're doing commissions. (This actually goes for if you post fanart or other fanworks to AO3 too.) Do not link to a payment site like Kofi or PayPal. It will probably go unnoticed if you do, but it opens the site up to legal liabilities and is therefore strictly against their ToS.

2) How open you are about advertising fanfic commissions is writer discretion. One way of talking around it is to say you do writing commissions or story commissions, inquire for more details, without ever explicitly mentioning fanfic.

3) A general opening price is $0.01 per word, or $1 every hundred words. Professionals definitely charge more than that, and it's completely at the writer's discretion. Because fanfic doesn't have as active of a market as fanart, there isn't much competition--but there also isn't much demand. Don't sell yourself short by going any lower than $0.01 per word.

Do you take fanfic requests or ideas?

YESS Id love to hear both Art and Fanfic requests as long as it is understood that I might not complete them since they are requests and not commissions✨😚

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where's the option for, "I got my ears pierced at Claire's, I was a child, I didn't want to, my mom pressured me and I cried for an hour afterward"

Okay. I gotta ask.

Obvs pls share to get more votes etc etc

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I am taking this opportunity to share one of my favorite stories.

There are a lot of stray and feral cats near my work, as well as several people that take it upon themselves to put out bowls of food and water for the local cats. One actually got socialized enough it was able to be adopted, but most stop showing up before that point.

One day, a new cat started showing up in a spot other than where the food bowls were put out. While most of the cats were utterly silent, she absolutely yowled for attention. I was excited to meet this new cat and made a pilgrimage across work campus to see her as soon as I heard about her. It only took one meeting for me to immediately decide: this is not a feral. This is someone's lost cat.

I put little thought into my rescue plan, and virtually no research. I texted my roommate, and we set up the heist: I would get off work early, at an odd time between the usual breaks when no one was out and about. She would pull up to the gate, cat carrier in car, and when she signaled to me that she had arrived, I'd scoop the cat up and take her straight out, to the car, and stuff her in the carrier.

No one spotted me, and it went off without a hitch.

And then. I had a cat, in a carrier, in a car.

Next (only) step was to get her scanned for a chip. We took her to a petsmart with a Banfield who did it for us. She did indeed have a chip, with an owner on file, but all they could really do was call the phone number there and then call us if they called back. So we agreed to that and took the cat back to the car.

"What's the next part of your plan?" my roommate asked.

"I didn't really think this far," I admitted.

Luckily, I got a call from an unknown number not too much later. A confused man saying he'd gotten a voicemail?

"I found a stray cat that had a chip with your information," I told him. "Where do you live?"

It took a bit more of an exchange for him to fully understand what I was saying. We got his address, luckily in the same city, and drove over.

The actual exchange was fairly unremarkable. He had a few dogs he was trying to keep behind the screen door while we talked. He was very grateful, and amazed that this unlikely thing had happened to him. The cat was unhappy about every step of this process.

The thing that sticks with me though, that makes this one of my favorite stories, is the memory of his voice on the phone when the situation was made clear.

"You found my cat," he said, a warbly, wet sound to it. "I lost her two years ago. You found my cat."

At this point in our relationship my betrothed is well versed in my compulsive need to help animals. It wasn’t part of their upbringing but it was a huge part of mine. So now whether it’s lost dogs or injured birds they know that for me it’s not a matter of convenience, it’s just the only possible option.

My most notable rescue took place during one of the least opportune times. We were watching a friends boxer puppy, Bella. The dog was dumber than a box of rocks and I took deep offense that at six months old she still didn’t know her own name. My betrothed and I were working with her on that as well as leash manners, so we walked her frequently.

On our way home from a walk I looked across the street and saw a cat. My betrothed didn’t need to ask, it was simply a given that faced with a cat I’d go say hello, so they waited with Bella as I crossed the road.

As I approached the cat several things caught my attention. The first was that he wasn’t wearing a collar. The second was that his coat was greasy and disheveled- this was not a cat that was thriving if he didn’t have energy to groom. The third thing was that he was way too skinny, with bones jutting out from his shabby coat.

The fourth thing I noticed was that this cat was a purebred Bengal.

Now, I understand that it’s suspect to identify cats as bengals. Many people see tabbies and call them bengals. But as a teenager I became obsessed with these cats and went on a hyper obsessive deep dive. I spent hours reading about them, looking at pictures, and dreaming about Bengal cats.

The cat in front of me had unmistakable rosettes, the narrow frame, piercing eyes, and from a very rough estimation probably cost thousands of dollars. There was no world in which he should be wandering my neighborhood with no collar and his ribs jutting out.

Which all led me to one conclusion. He was lost.

The second I realized that it was over. It wasn’t a matter of thinking the situation through it was a simple conclusion: he was lost so I would help him by any means necessary.

This sweet cat showed he was friendly and trotted right over to greet me. I pet him and tentatively went for a lift. He did not care for that. Suddenly we were tussling, and it was instantly clear to me that he was going to stay lost if I couldn’t restrain him, so we pitted all our wiles against each other and at one point I had him agonizingly by just a toe but I refused to let go and finally I had him in my arms, one hand scruffing him and the other supporting his weight.

That’s when I noticed a couple things. There was blood dripping down my elbow. Across the street Bella was going crazy barking and pulling toward me and the cat. And my betrothed was giving me an agonized look.

Without a word they started power walking Bella back to our house. I followed at a slower pace, keeping my grip on this poor lost cat.

It was a warm summer afternoon and several neighbors were out chatting. They saw the circus parade of my betrothed dragging a yelping puppy and me following holding a screaming cat.

Oh yeah. So I forgot to mention. Bengals are not normal cats. They’re bred back with a wild cat and their vocalizations are on a completely different level. The cat in my arms wasn’t meowing or yowling. Instead he was making one long continuous eldritch wailing, oscillating in rage and distress.

My neighbors saw this, me, stonefaced carrying a cat who was casting evil spells with his voice, blood dripping down my arm, while a puppy frantically fought my betrothed to reach us, and they laughed.

I don’t think I’ve ever been more offended that no one offered any assistance, but it was fine. I knew I could count on my betrothed. I slowed my steps slightly again when I saw my betrothed round our corner. I knew they would kennel the puppy and bring a cat crate for me.

Sure enough, I rounded the corner and they had our door open, crate at the ready. I popped the Bengal into the carrier and we shut him into the bathroom.

Then I looked at my shaking, bloody hand. He’s scraped his back claws up me and it wasn’t deep but I was bleeding heavily. Then I looked at my betrothed and started to cry.

They held me while I had a panic attack and helped me thoroughly peroxide my cuts.

“That was so brave, weren’t you scared to grab him?” they asked me.

Truly, no. I think to be brave or scared you need to actually conceptualize what you’re doing and I hadn’t. I saw a cat that needed help, and then there wasn’t options, I just acted.

They asked what my plan was and I didn’t have one. Where would we put him, in a home with three other cats and a puppy? I don’t know. I just grabbed him.

We ended up calling a friend who’s special interest is dog rescue. She brought her chip reader and a huge dog crate we could keep him in overnight with a disposable little box, food, and water.

He’d been summoning demons behind the bathroom door the whole time, making sounds previously confined to various netherworlds but she bravely uncaged him to read if he had a chip. No, to my surprise. It also turned out he was a love machine despite the ghastly sounds.

We loved on him and gave him small portions of food every fifteen minutes so he didn’t eat himself sick.

The next day we brought him to the local pet rescue, after I called ahead to warn them I was bringing in a Bengal. The lady had a very blasé attitude about this claim, clearly used to people claiming every lost tabby was a rare cat breed.

When she pulled him out of the crate she exclaimed, “Oh my god, it is a Bengal!”

“That’s what I promised. One whole ass Bengal.”

We said our goodbyes to the sweet man, and the posted him on the website as a found pet. He was picked up by his family two days later. I’ll never know how he escaped but I’m certain his family was so grateful to have him returned.

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I got a reputation in my family for never wanting anyone to see what I was doing on the computer, instantly minimizing the screen if anyone was over my shoulder. I joked that if you didn't want people to find that suspicious, you just had to practice unfounded paranoia from the first moment you began using a computer.

Only now does this register me as a problem rather than a fun quirk of personality.

thinking about how when you experience a lot of shame in your formative years (indirectly, directly, as abuse or just as an extant part of your environment) it becomes really difficult to be perceived by other people in general. the mere concept of someone watching me do anything, whether it's a totally normal activity or something unfamiliar of embarrassing, whether I'm working in an excel spreadsheet or being horny on main, it just makes my skin crawl and my brain turn to static because I cannot convince myself that it's okay to be seen and experienced. because to exist is to be ashamed and embarrassed of myself, whether I'm failing at something or not, because my instinctive reaction to anyone commenting on ANYTHING I'm doing is to crawl into a hole and die. it's such a bizarre and dehumanizing feeling to just not be able to exist without constantly thinking about how you are being Perceived. ceaseless watcher give me a god damn break.

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I would be incredibly anxious with a lump sum that I would spend it all or run out

it would not be a rational fear; I could not temper it with logic

knowing that money was constantly coming in every day, no matter what would be a lot more reassuring

Explain your reasoning plzzz

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oh man

it would make for a genuinely compelling and fucked up story if Haytham knew Desmond was Connor's friend, and Desmond had no idea Haytham was Ratonhnhaké:ton's dad.

Like, Haytham purposefully keeping it from him/omitting it and the like...complicated morality of Haytham genuinely trying to connect with his adult son he didn't know he had

trying to take into account his point of view and his life experiences and re examine his own views through that lens

but also doing this objectively fucked up thing of not informing the man he's courting of this important context

Modern AU where Desmond and Connor are friends and Desmond has met Haytham plenty of times. One day, Haytham shows up at the bar Desmond works at, and after some time, Desmond calls Haytham "Daddy."

Either as a joke or even a slip of the tongue, but to both their embarrassment, Haytham actually likes it.

Later, Connor is confused about why Desmond looks like he wants to die, and Haytham is trying to weigh the pros and cons of actually acquiring his son's friend as a sugar baby.

“Do you think Connor would be alright if I were to court his best friend?”

Jenny stared at her disaster of a younger (half-)brother.

Considering how old Haytham was already, Jenny was pretty sure this could be counted as his… ‘midlife crisis’.

Why he was suddenly fantasizing about becoming a sugar daddy to his son’s best friend though…

The Kenways had always lived for the drama.

Their father’s life was full of it and Jenny herself had been a big drama queen when she left the Kenway mansion after a fight with their father that she still refuses to apologize for.

Hell, everyone close to the Kenways were still wary of talking about Tessa after the messy divorce their parents had.

So really…

Haytham deciding to start another drama by seducing his son’s best friend?

Not that surprising, all things considered.

Although, she hoped he would pick someone better than…

“The Auditore boy?” She asked with a frown, having had dealings with the Auditores because they walked similar circles.

“God no.” Haytham shook his head as a look of sheer disgust decorated his face.

Good to know his brother still had standards then.

Who else was her nephew’s close friends again?

It wasn’t like she knew which of them was his best friend.

Someone that would catch her brother’s attention…

She blinked before staring at Haytham with dawning despair.

“The Miles boy?”

Haytham gravely nodded.

Well, considering who her nephew’s other friends were…

The Miles boy would be the best option.

But…

“Forget if my dear nephew would be alright…” She raised an eyebrow as she said, “William Miles will kill you if he learns you’re seducing his son.”

“If he learns.” Haytham reminded her.

Dear god.

Jenny was right.

Haytham was preparing for another dangerous (and forbidden) drama in his life.

And Jenny was simply too happy to have front row seats to it.

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The idea of kyuubei asking Desmond if he wants to make a wish is wild to me mostly because like, the reason Kyuubei focuses on young girls is because their emotions are the easiest to harvest/their anguish is the most powerful

I think it would take several cycles for Kyuubei to notice Desmond as a potential Magi

like Madoka's wish potential growing as Homura's obsession with her makes her choice a pivotal point in the timeline, Desmond's memory continuity would create this bright spot of continued anguish in a world where things keep resetting back to the norm

Even once Kyuubei notices Desmond, it's reluctant to offer him a wish. Adults are more difficult to manipulate, for one, and this one appears very even-keeled on the surface. But eventually something happens that makes Kyuubei understand that this man has the grief of lifetimes living inside him, and if that grief can be harvested...

And so Kyuubei offers Desmond Miles a wish.

Puella Magi Desmond Magica (well what else am I supposed to call this?)

A discussion between myself and @teecupangel with everyone’s favorite Ultimate Isekai Protagonist Desmond Miles in the Puella Magi Madoka Magica series.

(Aka two of my biggest hyperfixations)

OHH THE ANGST POTENTIAL! YES LETS THROW HIM WITH MAMI. She asks him to keep an eye out for Kyouko too, along with any “strange occurrences”. He takes the night shift at a bar (can’t help it tbh) but during the day he’s on his own sort of “patrol” while Mami is in school, keeping an eye on Kyouko and helping her out on the streets. She may be stubborn but so is he, and he does sometimes give her a sample of Mami’s latest cake creation. It’s like this up until the timeline starts, Homura’s first day out of the hospital in Mitakihara.

Mami’s recently met a junior of hers, Madoka Kaname, and has taken to bringing her over for tea and cake. Desmond likes her and is glad Mami has someone to really connect with other than him. After Kyouko’s family died in that fire, Mami and Kyouko’s friendship changed. So Desmond is happy to see her bringing another person around the apartment again.

A few days pass and then Mami’s bringing another junior home, a shy girl named Akemi Homura. Desmond makes note of this and continues his days as normal.

A big storm is approaching Mitakihara. Desmond and Mami head to the closest shelter but Mami somehow slips away from him. So he activates his Eagle Vision and tracks her to the storm’s center, where he sees an upside down clock thing with a grinning face.

Desmond’s eyes are drawn to two figures leaping and darting and sending bolts of color at the thing. He lets the world bleed gray and there are three figures shining blue-gold.

One of them is on the ground, looking like she’s been crying.

A piece of debris hits one of the leaping figures and oh fuck oh fuck that’s his little sister. He recognizes the gold hair. Although her outfit is strange.

Desmond had promised himself he wouldn’t use his Assassin skills in this new life he was given. He would keep his family away from his old life.

He broke his promise as he flew towards the body hurtling towards the ground. Every free running skill pushed to its limit as he ran, leaped, and dodged.

He cradled his sister’s body as she smiled at him. As Desmond held her, a voice entered his mind.

Do you want to make a wish?

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NTA, But if you die he's fucked. It's worth talking to him about if this is his concern/if it's a concern. A solution that would not involve putting his name on the house would be to file a legally binding will with a lawyer saying that he gets the house or some portion of it in the event of your death. And if that's something that makes you uncomfortable, understandable. But know that without a will or children, your house may become property of the state on your death. And without a will or marriage, he will have no legal claim to anything of yours, and no financial support, while dealing with a horrible tragedy, in the event of your untimely death.

If you offer the will solution and he still wants to be on the house, would him buying into the house work for you? ie writing up a contract wherein he owes you half of the house's current value, to be paid in installments on a monthly basis, in exchange for having his house on the deed now?

AITA for not wanting to put my partner on the deed to my house. 🏠

I (31F) bought a house on my own a couple of years ago with money from an inheritance and a small loan from the bank to cover the rest. It's not a large or fancy house by any means but it's mine and I never thought buying was in the cards for me. I renovated the house myself and put a lot of time in it. I'm pretty proud of it.

I got into a relationship a year and a half ago and we decided to start living together after dating for a year. Since he (44M) was living in a small apartment and his work is not too far from my house he moved in with me. Things are going pretty well in general, he's a nice partner. But there is something that bothers me, he keeps asking about having his name on the deed since we are a team now.

I just don't see how him owning part of my house has any benefits for the both of us. I pay all things related to the house myself and fix things myself if needed, as I did before I even met him.

He does put money in our joint bank account every month for groceries, shared expenses and fun days out so he does help btw. He earns pretty well and isn't poor.

Maybe I'm overly cautious, but I just don't see any reason to do what he asks. If there are people with a different perspectives I'd love to hear them.

So, am I the asshole?

What are these acronyms?