i-am-not-a-twinkie

[i-am-not-a-twinkie]

Top-Tier Villain Motivations

They will be safe. It doesn't matter who else or what else burns as long as They will be safe.

I will be safe. The hunger and the cold will never touch me again.

Fuck any bitch who's prettier(/cooler/better-liked/better at making dumplings) than me.

Yes, Master

Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me. LOVE ME!

I know the terrible things these so-called "heroes" will do if I don't stop them (<- is absolutely wrong)

I don't want a better future, I want a better past!

No other way to get performance art funded these days

[i-am-not-a-twinkie]

So a free tool called GLAZE has been developed that allows artists to cloak their artwork so it can't be mimicked by AI art tools.

AI art bros are big mad about it.

[i-am-not-a-twinkie]

So a free tool called GLAZE has been developed that allows artists to cloak their artwork so it can't be mimicked by AI art tools.

AI art bros are big mad about it.

[i-am-not-a-twinkie]

Child of the sun

Who was shining and bright

and child of the moon

Who lived by his light

The sun who shone for all to see

And was deemed a radiant bloom

Who only saw his brilliant light

Reflected in the eyes of the moon

The moon with power other's feared

As strong as the will of the sea

Brought to his knees by the warmth of the sun

By his side was where he longed to be

People said the moon was cold

With no light of his own

The sun saw only beauty

In his soft and eerie glow

People feared the sun would burn

Or his light would blind them

The moon found joy in his bite

And vowed to stand behind him

Their endless dance through the sky

Was plain for all to see

The beauty and grace of a love

That was never meant to be

And yet in the rare twilight

The time they shared together

On mingling breath hushed whispers said

A promise made, to be forever

But the day came the sun shone too bright

And was snuffed out too soon

And without the sun's radiant light

The moon was gone too

#i wrote a poem #I'm not really proud of it #but i finished it #bonus points if you can guess who it's about before checking the tags #art #tumblr #my poem #poem #original poem #poetry #sun and moon #cod #cod ghost #cod mw2 #cod soap #cod ghoap #ghoap #ghost x soap #ghost #john soap mactavish #soapghost #soap cod #soap mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghostsoap #simon ghost riley #simon riley #mcd

[i-am-not-a-twinkie]

Sometimes I think about getting top surgery and buying a fake female chest so I can have the detachable tiddies of my dreams

#trans #transgender #genderfluid #random #top surgery #fake breasts #fake chest #detachable boobs

[i-am-not-a-twinkie]

1000 posts!

#1000 posts #tumblr milestone

[i-am-not-a-twinkie]

"Should've said no" by Taylor swift but it's from the pov of my savings as I order takeout despite having food in my fridge

#random #dumblr #dumb #music #we have food at home #takeout

[i-am-not-a-twinkie]

Nobody knows me like my tumblr followers know me

#tumblr #dumb #dumblr #random #1 am thoughts #followers #I post some wild shit fr #this goes beyond shower thoughts #chaos

[i-am-not-a-twinkie]

I spent the last 11 months working with my illustrator, Marta, to make the children's book of my dreams. We were able to get every detail just the way I wanted, and I'm very happy with the final result. She is the best person I have ever worked with, and I mean, just look at those colors!

I wanted to tell that story of anyone's who ever felt that they didn't belong anywhere. Whether you are a nerd, autistic, queer, trans, a furry, or some combination of the above, it makes for a sad and difficult life. This isn't just my story, and this is your story as well.

I also want to say the month following the book's launch has been very stressful. I have never done this kind of book before, and I didn't know how to get the word out about it. I do have a small publishing business and a full-time job, so I figured let's put my some money into advertising this time. Indie writers will tell you great success stories they've had using Facebook ads, so I started a page and boosting my posts. Within a first few days, I got a lot of likes and shares and even a few people who requested the book and left great reviews for me. There were also people memeing on how the boy turns into a delicious venison steak at the end of the book. It was all in good fun, though. It honestly made made laugh. Things were great, so I made more posts and increased spending.

But somehow, someway these new posts ended up on the wrong side of the platform. Soon, we saw claims of how the book was perpetuating mental illness, of how this book goes against all of basic biology and logic, and how the lgbtq agenda was corrupting our kids.

This brought out even more people to support the book, so I just let them at it and enjoyed my time reading comments after work. A few days later, then conversation moved from politics to encouraging bullying, accusing others of abusing children, and a competition to who could post the most cruel image. They were just comments, however, and after all, people were still supporting the book.

But then the trolls started organizing. Over night, I got hit with 3 one-star reviews on Amazon. My heart stopped. If your book ever falls below a certain rating, it can be removed, and blocked, and you can receive a strike on your publishing account. All that hard work was about to be deleted, and it was all my fault for posting it in the wrong place.

I panicked, pulled all my posts, and went into hiding, hoping things would die down. I reported the reviews and so did many others, but here's the thing you might have noticed across platforms like Google and Amazon. There are community guidelines that I referenced in my email, but unless people are doing something highly illegal, things are rarely ever taken down on these massive platforms. So those reviews are still there to this day. Once again, it's my fault, and I should have seen it coming.

Luckily, the harassment stopped, and the book is doing better now. The overall rating is still rocky in Canada and Australia, so any reviews there help me out quite a lot. I'm currently looking for a new home to post about the book and talk about everything that went into it. I also love to talk about all things books if you ever want to chat. Maybe I'll post a selfie one day, too. Otherwise, the book is still on Amazon, and it's also on YouTube as well if you want to see the full story for free.

[i-am-not-a-twinkie]

“Human” soap joining the 141 because he’s always been drawn to challenges and fights. He acts like a mortal and looks like one, but no one can shake off the feeling of wrongness they get around him.

“Human” gaz who joined the task force for more exposure to different kinds of mortals, unknowingly joins the task force witch already has an other worldly being

“Human” price who thinks the two sergeants already know this task force was made specifically for gods or eldritch beings

Human ghost who thinks the other three are just weirdos and who is he to say anything about being weird? He wears a skull mask!

Price fully well knows ghost is just a human and thinks it funny he’s just like that.

[i-am-not-a-twinkie]

Had a few folks interested in how I made the patches I posted for Solarpunk Aesthetic Week, so I thought I'd give y'all my step-by-step process for making hand-embroidered patches!

First, choose your fabric and draw on your design. You can use basically any fabric for this - for this project I'm using some felt I've had lying around in my stash for ages.

Next, choose your embroidery floss. For my patches I split my embroidery floss into two threads with 3 strands each, as pictured. You can use as many strands in your thread as you prefer, but for the main body of my patches I prefer 3 strands.

Next you're going to start filling your design using a back stitch.

First, put in a single stitch where you want your row to start.

Poke your needle up through the fabric 1 stitch-length away from your first stitch.

Poke your needle back down the same hole your last stitch went into so they line up end-to-end.

Repeat until you have a row of your desired length (usually the length of that colour section from one end to the other). Once you have your first row, you're going to do your next row slightly offset from your first row so that your stitches lay together in a brick pattern like this:

Make sure your rows of stitches are tight together, or you'll get gaps where the fabric shows through.

Rinse and repeat with rows of back stitch to fill in your patch design.

When you're almost to the end of your thread, poke your needle through to the back of the fabric and pull the thread under the back part of the stitching to tuck in the end. Don't worry if it looks messy - no one's gonna see the back anyway.

This next step is fully optional, but I think it makes the patch design really pop. Once your patch is filled in, you can use black embroidery floss to outline your design (or whatever colour you want to outline with - it's your patch, do what you want). I use the full thread (6 strands, not split) of embroidery floss to make a thicker outline.

I use the same back stitch I used to fill the piece to make an outline that adds some separation and detail. You could use most any 'outlining' stitch for this, but I just use back stitch because it's just easier for me to do.

Once you're finished embroidering your patch, it's time to cut it out!

Make sure to leave a little border around the edge to use for sewing your patch on your jacket/bag/blanket/whatever, and be careful not to accidentally cut through the stitches on the back of the patch.

If you have a sturdy enough fabric that isn't going to fray, you can just leave it like this. If not, I recommend using a whip stitch/satin stitch to seal in the exposed edges (I find that splitting your embroidery floss into 3-strand threads works best for this).

And then you're done! At this point you can put on iron-on backing if you want, or just sew it on whatever you wanna put it on. Making patches this way does take a long time, but I feel that the results are worth it.

Thanks for reading this tutorial! I hope it was helpful. If anyone makes patches using this method, I'd love to see them! 😁

[i-am-not-a-twinkie]

My digital pen just broke and I have no pages left in my sketch books T^T

All I want to do is draw!!!

#drawing #artists on tumblr #art #digital art #halp

[i-am-not-a-twinkie]

ghost soap who have been married for several years and are playing the “how long until they notice?” game.

Soap thinks it’s quite funny when Gaz tries to warn him about Simon’s… intricacies. “—and as long as you respect his personal bubble and his morning, afternoon and evening tea, you’ll live.”

Soap nods, thinks about how at home he makes Simon’s tea for him and scratches his scalp until he comes online for the day. “Thanks, mate. Honestly, he’s kind of intimidating.”

Of course, they grew even closer after Las Almas. Gaz had started teasing Ghost about having a soft spot for Soap, and they both denied it— waiting for somebody to notice that it was a giant squishy pocket of love.

(this ran away from me. anyway. have this completely unedited drabble/ficlet? idk. merry after christmas.

Soap watches Simon from across the rec room one morning. His husband is completely offline, Soap having been kicked out of his bunk after Simon fought his way out of his fourth nightmare, probably only running on a few hours of sleep. Soap watches Gaz and Price, both doing their own thing, and Soap risks it.

Soap nudges Simon away from the counter. “Go sit. I can make it.” Simon stares for a few moments, blinking long and slow, sleepy and not ready to be perceived by the world. Soap feels the eyes of their teammates on him, and also feels the tenseness of the moment.

Simon inhales, rubs his eyes and grunts, shuffling over to the table and sitting in a chair. Soap makes his tea, making sure the honey is fully dissolved before he takes a sip to make sure it’s perfect. He sees Gaz’s wide eyes in his peripheral vision. Simon grunts again when they make eye contact, holding out his hands for the mug.

Soap sets it carefully in his hands, and Simon breathes in the tea. He takes a long drink and makes a soft noise, a telltale sign of happiness. Soap smiles softly, repeating the noise back at him. Simon narrows his eyes at him. “Quit making fun of me.”

“I’d never,” Soap scratches Simon’s back through the hoodie he’s wearing for a second. “It’s cute,” he whispers, only for Simon’s ears. Soap wants to stay behind him, stay rubbing his back until Simon wakes up enough to function like a normal human being. Instead, he has to go yell at recruits.

/-/

Simon has had a temper since he met him. He gets any sort of negative emotion and it quickly spirals into anger, a leftover fault from his childhood. it’s the worst when he’s overstimulated, too much of everything usually ending in a petty argument when they’re home that has Simon coming back to him not when ten minutes later with his metaphorical tail between his legs and gently apologizing before taking a nap on Soap’s stomach under his sweater.

On base, it’s harder to notice. However, after a mission gone wrong, Ghost is pacing in the rec room, Price and Gaz watching him with nervous glances, waiting for him to lash out.

Soap settles on the couch with a tea, placing it on the coffee table and watching Simon pace back and forth, eventually snatching up the mug and holding it under his chin. A few minutes pass before he runs out of steam, stopping to pivot on his heel and glare at Gaz and Price. “C’mere.” Simon glares at him now, his gaze softening when Soap waves his hand. “C’mon,” he says, soft and gentle, “Come sit.”

Simon follows the suggestion, sitting near Soap, drinking his tea slowly and sinking into the cushion of the couch. “You did good,” Soap murmurs, guiding Simon to rest his head on his chest, “You can rest now, Si.”

“The fuck it look like ‘m doin’,” Simon grumbles at him, turning his head away from the lights and shoving his face in the gap between Soap and the back of the couch. Soap doesn’t bite back his smile, scratching Simon’s scalp gently with both of his hands and soothing the goosebumps that pop up on his neck. “Stressin’ me out, dirty slag,” he huffs a few seconds later.

Soap laughs gently, scratching behind Simon’s ears and kissing the top of his head. “Go to sleep.”

/-/

Soap walks into the rec room, immediately zoning in on Simon watching something on his phone with that intense look— the look he wears when he’s having feelings he doesn’t know what to do with— mask pulled up, covering his forehead in hair.

Soap wanders over, standing behind him on the couch and looking down at the phone. The privacy screen makes the image dull and blurry. “What’re you doin’?”

“Uh,” Simon tilts the phone, and the screen becomes clear, “Lookin’ at Tommy’s snapchats. He’s sending me old shite,” he mumbles.

Soap ignores the way Price’s head snaps up, looking at Simon with a surprised look on his face. Soap rests his head on Simon’s watching the silenced video. A younger, slightly leaner, very pissed off Simon stares at the phone with a blank stare. Tommy appears, a wide smile on his face. “So angry.”

“I literally got home and he had me doin’ shit,” Simon mumbles, scrolling through.

They had met the year Roba happened, early February at a café slash library. Soap had been wanting to finally read the Percy Jackson books again, and Simon had been sitting at the table reading a parenting book of all things. Soap had sat across from him, and they read in silence for weeks before Soap commented on his strange book choices— parenting, self-help, addiction recovery, mental health, fiction, non fiction, drama, romance, history, all in different orders. Soap hadn’t been able to keep his mouth shut when Simon finished a book about Infants and then picked up a queer romance book Soap had read the week prior, “Respectfully what the fuck?”

Simon had smiled into his tea, flirted with him, and Soap had been… embarrassingly attracted to him.

Simon had called him Christmas Eve, rambling on about a fire and his family and Soap had asked, “What are you talking about, we’re out having dinner?” Because Beth had insisted they have dinner together, with or without Simon, before Soap made his way to his own family. And Simon had broken down, rambling on about a man called Roba in a way that had Soap shoving way too much money into Beth’s hands and sprinting to Simon’s location.

Simon had come home different— he had come home after they buried an empty coffin and Soap mourned what could have been the love of his life with Simon’s family— quiet, angry, distant. Hot and cold with Soap, begging for his attention one day before completely shutting him out.

Soap had found Simon trying to fist-fight the first responders— convinced his family was inside and dead— and had to pry him away and calm him down. Simon had packed them up and moved them to Scotland the week before their ‘meet-cute’ anniversary. He had reenlisted with Soap a few months later, after the every-day therapy sessions had cleared him.

Simon didn’t talk about his family— at all— he worried that even with Roba dead there would be another person out there waiting for him to slip up. Anybody who did any digging wouldn’t find any connection. Tommy had taken Beth’s name when they married, Joseph was enrolled under Soap’s (after discovering Joseph’s nursery schedule is what had led the men after Simon to the family) in a private school, and honestly Soap would lie about having an oops baby if it meant Simon would sleep a little better at night.

In Price’s eyes, Soap laying his head on Ghost and talking about his family probably seemed out of character. Simon opens the camera, and Soap smiles widely for the picture, Simon typing out a quick message before sending it off. “He’s gonna fuck up our 600 day streak if he doesn’t fuckin’ text me back.”

Soap cackles, walking to the pantry to get a snack.

/-/

“So,” Gaz says carefully, looking over his shoulder before scooting closer, “You and Ghost seem pretty close.” Considering we’re married, Soap thinks cheekily. “Got people callin’ you the Ghost-whisperer. You’re the only bastard who can take food off his plate and not see the wrath of the devil himself.”

Soap throws his head back with a laugh. “Ach, naw, he’s a sweetheart. Real nice.” Soap watches the recruits in front of him with a smile. Almost a year and a half into Soap being with the team, and nobody had even thought about them knowing each other.

Gaz chews on his mouth for a few seconds. “Mate, I gotta be real honest right now, and feel free to tell me to fuck off, but I heard that he was married. Like before he was Ghost—“ Gaz mimics tugging on a mask. “Price says he wears a set of rings on his tags— three real nice ones, too— do you know how in love you have to be with somebody to drop that much money on a wedding, engagement, and promise ring?” Soap did know, he was the one who had all of them custom made three years ago. He had agonized over the designs, Tommy stoping him from chickening out several times, and had a dent in his savings for months after. “And I noticed you guys kind of… you know. I just wanted you to know.”

“Ye think he’s cheating on his bird with me?” Soap asks, playing up the shock. “I mean… I sort of fancy him ‘nd all, but he never said anything about havin’ a girl at home.”

Gaz gives him a pep talk and a look of sympathy.

Later, Soap sneaks his way into Simon’s office, twirling the ring on his middle finger with a grin. Simon looks up before ignoring him for the report on his computer. “What’s got you lookin’ so smug.”

“Gaz knows you’re married.”

Simon raises an eyebrow, looking up at him again. “Uh-huh. So the game’s done, then?” Soap honestly thinks he looks pretty with his mask gone, grease smeared on his waterline, glasses held between his fingers.

“No. He thinks you’re married to a woman,” Soap says excitedly, “He thinks we’re havin’ ourselves an affair. I’m gonnae wear my ring on my wedding finger. See if any puzzle pieces fall into place.” Soap slides his ring off and hands it to Simon, watching his husband twirl the ring between his fingers. Soap holds his hand out, and Simon smiles gently as he slides it on the finger it goes on.

Simon looks at his hand, gently swiping his thumb along Soap’s knuckles. “I wanna take you out for dinner when we get home,” he mumbles, “To that diner you like. Take you shoppin’.”

Soap smiles, unable to contain the squishy-fluttery feeling Simon gives him.

/-/

Nobody notices Soap’s ring moving fingers.

They kick up their flirting several notches, drop hints, but nobody seems to pick it up.

Soap is packing his bags for leave, when Simon sneaks into his bunk. Soap smiles when he feels Ghost wrapping his arms around him and rocking them side to side. “Hey, baby,” Soap says, looking over his shoulder at Simon.

“Garrick asked if my wife knew about us.”

Soap really does feel like a gossiping wife when he gasps, “What did ye tell ‘im?”

Simon snorts. “I said yes. He just looked at me in disbelief. I think I traumatized him.” Simon leaves gentle kisses along his shoulder, squeezing him closer. “I Imagine we’re goin’ to have a chat with Price soon. Considering it’s illegal and all that.”

Soap hums.

/-/

The next day, they are called into Price’s office. Gaz is sitting guiltily on the couch, and Price looks more stressed than usual. Soap drops his duffel on the ground next to a chair and drops into it, followed by Simon.

“Reason yer callin’ me in here before my plane?” Soap settles in the seat, twisting his ring as a habit. He sees Price’s eyes catch on it, and he feels giddy about people noticing it before he realizes why they’re in here.

“I’m sorry,” Gaz blurts, “I just can’t have it on my conscious that Ghost has a girl back home and you’re… doing whatever it is you’re going.” He gestures between them.

Price drags his hand across his face, and Simon sighs dramatically, “Looks like the jig is up, Johnny.”

Soap slaps his hand against his forehead, because out of everything he could have said, that was not it.

“I mean— how could— you have a wife, Ghost!” Gaz gestures, clearly fighting his loyalty and his morals.

“I do have to admit, cheating isn’t something I expected of you, Simon.”

Soap decides to try and break the tension with a dramatic turn, “You’re cheating on me? After all I’ve done for you?”

Simon glares. “Yeah, I’m sick and tired of you not feeding the damn cat.” He sits up, counting on his fingers, “Your meatloaf is dry, you have a secret love child—“

“Joseph isn’t even blood related to me, you dramatic fuck, he’s only using my last name for his school!”

Simon scoffs.

Soap rolls his eyes, kicking Simon with his foot, “Gimmie your rings.” Simon takes off his dog tags, slides the rings off the chain and hands them over to Soap. Soap fits them together, leaning onto Price’s desk and leaving them there. He digs into his own duffel, pulling out his engagement ring and sliding off his wedding ring, fitting them together with Simon’s. He showcases it to Price. “Simon and I are married.”

Price looks baffled. Soap realizes what Simon said and— “You think my meatloaf is dry?”

Simon scoffs. “No, Johnny, your meatloaf isn’t dry. I could eat a whole pan of it but you don’t let me because other people need food too or some BS.”

“You’re married to each other?!“ Gaz looks shocked and relieved at the same time. “You let me warn you about how strange he is!! And you went along with it!”

“I honestly thoufht you would have realized by now…” Soap rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Sorry.”

They get scolded, and then Soap is congratulated for putting up with Ghost for so long. And then Ghost is congratulated for keeping Soap from killing himself via microwave explosions.

Everything is fine, in the end.

(Simon takes Johnny out for dinner when he joins him on leave, and takes him shopping. They’re in love.)

[i-am-not-a-twinkie]

@kneelingshadowsalome Salome my darling you simply MUST see this

IT’S THE BUTTERFLY KNIFE

[i-am-not-a-twinkie]

Dude… give me the bottle (when you lost a rhyming contest against the supernatural skeletal horse) I found out about Mari Lwyd a couple of years ago - and I fell in love with the concept. Here are some of my Lwyd arts I drew during this time The most recent art is here

P.S. - don’t forget about the frogs

[i-am-not-a-twinkie]

ARE YOU A BONE OR BLOOD PERSON.

ARE YOU A VOID OR ABYSS PERSON.

ARE YOU A ROT OR DUST PERSON.

[i-am-not-a-twinkie]

I wish I could put into words the sensation I feel when I think about or see content of König. It's a very special kind of joy. I love that fanon in general holds that he's this big brutal military man who yells "HA! YOU MISSED ME!" as he smashes someone's brains in with a hammer, yet simultaneously an anxious sweating mess of a feral animal at his core. A real damp wet cat of a man breathing hard as he tries not to lose his shit because he's sitting in a debrief feeling like he needs to peel his skin off. I love the idea that he craves sex and intimacy in a painfully vulnerable way, but he can only express it or pursue it in a wildly deranged manner.

I've seen a lot of people wondering why people like König so much when the only canonical content we have is a short bio and a handful of voice lines. Obviously, a lot of people think he's hot and want to freak him nasty, which is incredibly valid. I also think some of the appeal is the fact that there's so little go on, that we can just take him and make whatever interpretation that we want.

But I think at the core of it is that the seeds of a really good concept have been sown. Even though he's a dysfunctional wreck, anxious and unable to fit in, ostracized for things he can't control, he's so powerful. His violence is frightening and harsh, but it occupies a grey area where it's a good thing that helps him.

I hope a lot of other people can relate to this, but the only way I can describe it is the urge to be a werewolf? To be able to become some wild, untamed thing who can not only defend itself, but tear to shreds anything that would try to harm it. The best way I've seen this concept embodied is the Tumblr-famous I Am A Bride comic, which is very near and dear to my heart. I love König as a character because he embodies this ideal of despite my fragile vulnerable insides, I am powerful and ruthless and strong. Why shouldn't I go apeshit? When the world has been so unfair? When all people have done is hurt and disappoint me?

And, too, I love König fans' answer to the question. Of course you should. Of course you can. This is your right. And I will love you despite this, despite your anger and your violence, despite your anxiety and your dysfunctionality. You are something worthy of being loved, without having to be changed.