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tumblr communities were recently updated with an "invite link" feature. i think you know what that means ;)
don't hesitate if you're interested — i'm pretty sure there's no longer a member limit, so there's no such thing as 'wasted space'! it's a small enough fandom as it is. we'll always welcome anyone who's interested.
There’s been a huge rise in commission scammers recently, mostly on Instagram. A lot of new artists don’t know what to look out for, so I figured this might help people.
Usually the scammer will write to you asking about a commission. Something deceptively cute - mostly I encounter asks about pet portraits, with one or two photos sent. They’ll probably try to sell you a sweet little story, like “It’s for my son’s birthday”. They will insist that they love your artwork and style, even though they don’t follow you or never liked a single piece of your art.
If you agree, they will ask you for a payment method. They’ll try to get to this part as soon as possible.
Usually, they’ll insist on PayPal. And not just any PayPal. They’ll always insist on sending you a transfer immediately. None of that PayPal Invoice stuff (although some do have methods for that, too). They’ll really, REALLY want to get your PayPal email address and name for the transfer - that’s what they’re after. If you insist on any other method, they’ll just circle back to the transfer “for easiest method”. If you do provide them with the info, most likely you’ll soon get a scam email. It most likely be a message with a link that will ultimately lead to bleeding you dry. Never, and I mean NEVER click on any emails or links you get from them. It’s like with any other scam emails you can ever get.
Never, EVER wire money to anyone. This is not how it’s supposed to go. Use PayPal Invoice for secure exchanges where the client needs to provide you with their email, not the other way around.
Here is a very standard example of such an exchange. I realized it’s a scam pretty fast and went along with it, because I wanted good screenshots for you guys, so I tried going very “by the book” with it.
Please share this post, make it reach as many artists as possible. Let young or inexperienced artists know that this is going on. So many people have no idea that this is a thing. Let’s help each other out. If you think I missed any relevant info, do add it as an rb!
Also, if you know other scam methods that you think should be shared, consider rb-ing this post with them below. Having a master post of scam protection would AWESOME to have in the art community.
I KEPT GETTING SM COMMENTS LIKE THIS, I was excited for my first commission as well but turned out to be a scammer 🥹
🌿 My Name is Rola, and This is My Story 🌿
I never thought I would be writing this. I never thought I would be begging for help just to keep my children warm, just to feed them one more meal. But here I am, reaching out to you, because I have no other choice.
My name is Rola. I am a mother of two beautiful children, and before October 7th, we had a life filled with love and laughter. We had a home. My children had their own room, filled with their toys and drawings. We would sit together on our balcony, drinking coffee in the early morning light. We had dreams, just like any other family.
But in an instant, it was all gone.
A missile struck. The earth shook beneath us. The air filled with dust and fire. My husband and son ran, stumbling over each other in terror. I stood frozen, the ringing in my ears drowning out my own screams. Our home was shattered—windows blown out, doors ripped from their hinges. And when I looked outside, our neighbor’s house, a place that once echoed with children's laughter, was nothing but rubble and ash.
That was just the beginning.
The bombs never stopped. Every night, I held my children close as the sky rained fire. The sound of explosions mixed with the cries of mothers searching for their babies in the darkness. I covered my children, whispering words of comfort, but how do you comfort a child who is terrified of dying in their sleep?
We had to leave. We walked away from everything—our home, our memories, the warmth of our life before. My children left behind their favorite toys, their books, their safe space. Now, we have nothing.
No home.
No food.
No clean water.
No way out.
I went to buy sugar the other day. It cost $20 for just a kilo. Food is disappearing, and the little that remains is impossible to afford. Every day, I fight to find just enough to keep my children alive.
I am exhausted. I am scared. I need your help.
I never imagined I would have to beg for my family’s survival. But today, I am.
Please, if you are reading this, help us. Help me save my children. Help us find shelter, food, a way to rebuild even a small piece of the life we lost. If we ever have the chance to leave, we need support. If we are forced to stay, we need a home again.
Every donation matters. Every share helps. Every voice that speaks for us keeps hope alive.
💚 Please donate if you can. Share our story. Help us survive. 💚
aaugh i hate citing sources *excruciatingly loud sounds of tearing metal combined with tortured human screams and fleshy hitting noises* ok that wasn't so bad actually..
[Image description: There are five images, all screenshots of tags and replies on this post. The first is tags in all caps that read, "prev tags?! are you okay?" The second image is the prev tags mentioned, and reads, "me watching two hours worth of cars 3 interviews with brian fee so i can find a concrete source for lightning mcqueens age. btw on that note there's canonically a 20 year age gap between mcqueen and mater. in the first movie mcqueen is 29 and mater is 49. stan materfred its less problematic." The third image is tags in response to the previous image that read, "prev what. what. mater is. 49?? he's what?? he. was older than my dad when i first watched the movie? what??" The fourth image is tags in response again, and it reads, "prev in the credits of cars 2 we see maters passport including his DOB. his birthday is the same as john lasseters. 12 jan 1957. as i write this in 2022 john lasseter is 65. thus. mater is a gilf." The fifth image is a reply that reads, "mater is a gilf." End description]
[Image ID: It is a wojak meme, showing a man, who has the Wojak face, standing in the corner of a party, while smiling couples dance around him. Above the Couples' heads text reads, "Mater's 49????" And "Gilf Mater." Above the Wojak man's head, Text reads, "They don't know Materfred is the ship name for Mater and Manfred Von Karma" END ID]
[Image ID: A screenshot of a google search of "Manfred Von Karma", showing he's a white haired kinda "has fun being evil" looking man, the first result being his Ace Attorney wiki page. Hes a prosecutor. END ID]
Ace Attorney Heritage Post
POV (penis of view)
looks at you
looks at you
@bettsplendens i'd just like you to know that this is my favorite comment on this post and i'd like it to be memorialized
i hate the part of depression that’s like all the things that bring me joy are empty and i can’t do anything. like come on bitch i know you love book can you just be happy about book :/
day 1 at the communal puzzle club: i see a puzzle with a sign next to it that says "please help with our communal puzzle" and i say to myself "don't mind if I do" and did the whole thing
day 2 at the communal puzzle club: i get gently reprimanded for not sharing the puzzle experience with the others. in my defense I thought they needed all the help they could get
day 3 at the communal puzzle club: we start a new puzzle and i put one of the pieces in my pocket and save it for later so i can be the one who puts in the last piece
day 4 at the communal puzzle club: the puzzle is almost complete so i reach into my pocket and realize i left the last piece in my other pants which are currently in the washing machine. i feign ignorance
day 5 at the communal puzzle club: the others are suspicious but they have no proof. they check my pockets before i leave but little do they know that this time i ate the pieces
day 6 at the communal puzzle club: i put an entire bottle of miralax in my coffee to get the pieces out of my digestive system but they are too far dissolved to be usable. my stomach is in so much pain and i can't stop shitting but i rinse off what's left of the pieces and make it to puzzle club anyway, only to find out they don't meet on mondays. i am inconsolable.
day 7 at the communal puzzle club: i realized those pieces are incriminating evidence so i slipped them in someone else's pocket. i should be good as long as they don't find residual traces of my dna
day 8 at the communal puzzle club: there is an odd feeling in my gut. i feel as if something has been awoken in me
day 9 at the communal puzzle club: i am in such deep focus that the others are starting to fear me. either that or they are cowering away from the communal puzzle out of sheer respect for my skills
day 10 at the communal puzzle club: i'm getting better and better, i can now do several puzzles in one day. the others are discussing what to do about me in hushed tones. little do they know my laser focus allows me to hear everything they say. they aren't a threat.
day 11 at the communal puzzle club: the club manager unlocked the door but already i am inside. ive been here all night doing puzzles in the dark. they threaten to ban me from the club so in response i pick a 500 piece puzzle at random and complete it in under 45 minutes, just to show them who the real authority is
day 12 at the communal puzzle club: i have been officially banned from the communal puzzle club. in a fit of rage i grab as many pieces as i can and eat them, making sure to thoroughly chew and swallow every single one. if i can't do them, no one can.
day 13 at the communal puzzle club: it's monday again. the club doesn't meet today. it's the perfect opportunity to break in and do as many puzzles as my heart desires, without any of the club's petty drama to distract me
day 14 at the communal puzzle club: i am in jail because the club manager snitched to the cops like the pathetic weakling they are. this is the worst night of my entire life there aren't any puzzles here
day 15 at the communal puzzle club: the judge let me off with a restraining order since I didn't actually steal anything. i show back up to communal puzzle club just to make a show of ripping the order to shreds. no piece of paper will dictate my life, only jigsaw-cut cardboard has that power. nothing else.
day 16 at the communal puzzle club: everyone is so quiet today when I walk in. I eat some pieces in a show of force, just to remind everyone who's in charge. I comment that they taste somewhat like strychnine, they say it's just because Ravensburger has a new method of chemically processing their pieces. sounds plausible. 30 minutes later i am convulsing violently but i beg them not to call an ambulance until i finish the puzzle i was working on. but the bastards don't listen and I'm shipped off to the hospital kicking and screaming.
day 17 at the communal puzzle club: i spent the night in the hospital. a detective comes in and says they're investigating the manager of the communal puzzle club for attempted murder and asks what i know. i tell him honestly that i ain't no snitch and spit in his face. he says they have more than enough evidence to prosecute regardless.
day 18 at the communal puzzle club: the club manager is on trial for attempted murder and i am called as a witness. i tell the judge that i ain't no snitch and spit in his face. i am held in contempt of the court
day 19 at the communal puzzle club: the defense makes a plea of justifiable self defense, citing the restraining order that isn't even 1 week old. somehow the judge buys that flimsy defense. i mean, this is the same judge who didn't even recognize me from that same case despite being the same judge. i think the poor old man has dementia so i make a motion for a mistrial. it gets shot down because the system is corrupt.
day 20 at the communal puzzle club: the judge says i should get jail time but he decided i should be in a mental facility instead. i don't know why he would think that, i have been nothing but sane my entire life. god forbid a woman have hobbies
day 1 in the psych ward: they have puzzles in here this is amazing
day 2 in the psych ward: all the puzzles are missing a few pieces. this is unacceptable. im going to go insane
day 3 in the psych ward: i have been informed that they do not use the word "insane" in here so i take back my previous statement.
day 4 in the psych ward: i need to find those missing pieces i need to find them i need to find them i have been questioning everybody all the nurses all the doctors all the patients all the miscellaneous hospital staff but nobody knows anything. this is hopeless. i will never be able to overcome this trauma. my life is over
day 5 in the psych ward: it's so boring in here. without complete puzzles there's nothing to do except watch tv but the only channel they get is the local news. i begrudgingly watch out of nothing but all-encompassing ennui. but one of the stories is about the communal puzzle club and suddenly i am overcome with nostalgia. turns out there was a series of alleged poisonings attributed to that location. strychnine was found in three people so far, one of whom was myself. but the others didn't survive. this confirms my suspicion that i am in fact the chosen one
day 6 in the psych ward: with a renewed sense of purpose i will attempt to convince the doctors of my "sanity," but i also came to the realization that they don't care about sanity, they only care about sedation. they want to supress my passion, eradicate my truth, condition me to fall in line with the rest of the "sane" people. with that knowledge, i was able to tell them everything they wanted to hear. i acted polite, pretended i was cured, i even feigned complete disinterest in puzzles! it made my stomach boil but i did it, i convinced them, and just like that, i was free.
day 28 at the communal puzzle club: i don't know why everyone was so surprised to see me again, it's only natural that i'd come to finish what i started
(i know this is supposed to be day 27 at the communal puzzle club but day 27 was a monday so nothing happened) like what am i gonna say, "day 27 i sat alone in my studio apartment eating cereal and biding my time"
day 29 at the communal puzzle club: the communal puzzle club has been disbanded, the club manager has been arrested, and the whole place is swarming with cops. i watched as they hauled off a bunch of expensive looking printers and like a billion reams of paper and loaded them onto a big police truck.
apparently, the communal puzzle club was just a front for document forgery and counterfeit cash, and i had been inadvertently sabotaging them this entire time. which is sad because i support both of those things. but it also explains why they met 12 hours a day, 6 days a week and why they had their own building despite having no profit model and also why i was the only one who seemed to actually care about the puzzles. everyone else was too busy making fake passports to care.
in hindsight, i always knew they were all a bunch of casuals. but i didn't mind because they had so many excellent puzzles. I asked one of the officers if i could at least have the puzzles but he said they were already taken and locked away in the evidence room. the thought sickens me- all those puzzles, gathering dust, never to be assembled again. or maybe the pigs just took them for themselves! so they could have all the puzzles they want while the rest of us ordinary, law-abiding citizens have nothing to do except die of boredom!
the moral of the story is that we can never have nice things because of the fucking pigs. fuck the police.
It's with a heavy but hopeful heart that I watch Palestinian families fundraiser on here, slowly accumulating the precious little money to go around that they need to survive. However, not everyone is so lucky. A lot of Palestinians that have not had that kind of luck, that did not get early verification, that did not get massive platforms behind them from large bloggers, have approached me in my inbox, asking me kindly to do what I can for them. It kills me that I have so little to give myself, but I've seen this platform collectively raise enough to change someone's life. I've made a list of Palestinian fundraisers that are extremely low on funds, in the hope that drawing attention to people who have not been lucky at all can help turn that luck around. I know most of us can't possibly give enough to get all of these families safe in one go. But please, reblog this list. Pick one or two fundraisers, give what you can, and then keep track of it. Slowly, collectively, we can make a difference in these people's lives. Share and donate as much as you can. https://docs.google.com/document/d/178EGDFKkHlh3y4TMVX82kqgITHsqtoMdNccI2f_94Os/edit?usp=sharing
Daily reminder: Transphobia actively contributes to sexism. If you don’t fit the beauty standard and are seen as masculine in any way shape or form, you are seen as transgender and as a “problem”
I think it's incredibly important here to not overlook the fact that she is a Black woman. Transphobia, racism, and sexism overlap significantly because of the incredibly eurocentric beauty standards women are judged on.
American dipper (Cinclus mexicanus)
really love these two replies in particular
i wish alien jeff goldblum would crash land in my back yard adn learn english specifically to woo me adn then we'd go to his planet
Sometimes, in fandom, we just want to write id-tastic fic that rolls around in tropes that might be viewed as problematic. But we don’t want to address the problematic side of things in this particular fanwork; we just want to roll around and wallow.
It is considered courteous to give readers a heads-up via use of AO3 tags. I propose a tag that signals that a given fanwork is for rolling around, not giving a measured evaluation of anything. The MCU has carved out a space for this sort of fic with the “HYDRA Trash Party” tag, for which I commend them. Trash Party is a bit too specific to cover all of the ground I’m thinking of here, though; I propose “Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.”
For those of you not familiar with Arrested Development, Michael Bluth finds a paper bag in the freezer labeled “Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.” He opens the bag, finds a dead dove, and reacts as follows:
[gif of a white man saying “I don’t know what I expected” in a deadpan manner]
The “Dead Dove: Do Not Eat” tag would essentially be a “what it says on the tin” metatag, indicating “you see the tropes and concepts tagged here? they are going to appear in this fic. exactly as said. there will not necessarily be any subversion, authorial commentary condemning problematic aspects, or meditation on potential harm. this fic contains dead dove. if you proceed, you should expect to encounter it.”
(more at KnowYourMeme: http://knowyourmeme.com/memes/i-dont-know-what-i-expected)
Happy 10 years to Dead Dove Do Not Eat
