#this is a tumblr exclusive folks

[thefactsofthematter]

you know me bruh

“just once.” and “i thought you were dead.” ily!

-💥

omg ok here we go @jack-kellys 👀

this is, in fact, longer than a drabble. but hey when there’s two prompts and a fun idea, you just have to go for it!

here’s some jack + race brotherly shenanigans!! tw for graphic violence - it gets a little intense for a bit there.

pls enjoy!!

-

January, 1900.

“Have you lost your goddamn mind, Higgins!?”

Jack is chasing him down the fire escape on the side of the Lodging House, and Race knows he brought this upon himself, but he’s still going to be an ass about it.

“Have you?” he counters as he darts down the stairs as fast as he can, not looking back. “Christ almighty, you’re hollering like you’re trying to wake the entire goddamn neighbourhood.”

The steps are icy and it’s dark out, so just as he slows down a moment to catch himself and keep from sliding all the way to the bottom, Jack manages to nab him with an iron grip on his upper arm.

“Get your ass back inside,” Jack hisses. Rarely does he get mad like this, much less at his own boys, but Race has apparently done just the right trick to piss him off. “Right fuckin’ now. I’m not messing around.”

Race twists his arm, but Jack doesn’t let go.

“What, a fella can’t even go for a walk anymore?” he snaps. “You ain’t my father, Kelly. I’m grown. Let go of me.”

“Grown?” Jack all-but roars. “You’re fourteen goddamn years old!”

“And you ain’t that much older, so you can’t tell me nothing!”

Race wrenches his arm away and continues down the stairs, but he doesn’t get far. Jack grabs the collar of his coat and yanks him back.

“Where the hell are you going, huh?” Jack demands, a fire in his eyes that’s almost genuinely intimidating. “Ain’t no way you’re headed to Sharkey Athletic Club, is there?”

Race feels himself go pale. Jack wasn’t supposed to know about that. How the fuck did he find out?

As if to answer the question, Jack pulls a little card from his back pocket— the very same one that one of Race’s regular customers handed him a couple of weeks ago, inviting him to come check it out and consider joining.

“We’re short a few featherweights these days; our boys keep gettin’ too big and movin’ up classes,” the man had said, with a wink. “You look like you got some pep in you, kid. Come find us if you want a shot in the ring.”

And it’s not that Race had ever considered prizefighting before then, but it had been enticing— he’s wont to finding trouble and getting in scraps anyways, so why not get paid for it? Or at least, even if he loses, have a few fellas around to pull the guy off him before it gets too hairy? Fighting in a club is safer, as far as he’s concerned, because it’s controlled.

He hasn’t been in a real fight yet— the man who’d invited him had money banked on him and wasn’t about to let him go in completely blind— but he’s been there once to watch a few fights and practice on a punching bag. Tonight is going to be his first time in the bareknuckle ring, against another newcomer who’s close to his age and size.

He must’ve dropped his invite somewhere in the Lodge. Jack found it, obviously, and he’s probably been waiting all night to catch the moment Race tried to get out after curfew.

“I never even heard of that,” Race lies through his teeth. “I’m going to meet Spot.”

“You’re walking to Brooklyn at this hour, in the snow?” Jack scoffs, unconvinced. “Don’t think you can pull a fast one on me, kid. How many times you been to Sharkey’s?”

Race swallows. Jack is genuinely angry, and there’s no use in lying anymore.

“Just once. I only watched.”

“Who invited you?”

“A fella I sell to, down at the races. I dunno his first name, but folks just call him O’Connell.” He pauses, suddenly feeling a little twist of fear in his gut. “I think he’s one of them Five Points fellas, Jack. He’ll stomp me if I don’t show tonight. I gotta go.”

Jack slaps him. It catches Race off-guard enough that his head snaps to the side with the force of it, but he steels himself enough not to react.

“Five Points? You’re in with a fucking gang!?”

“I ain’t knew it was a gang thing until I was already there,” Race huffs, rubbing at his stinging cheek, “but yeah, I guess. I’m not in the gang or nothing, but I’m fightin’ for real tonight, and I don’t wanna know what trouble I’ll be in if I miss it. I’ll come straight back when I’m done, alright?”

Jack is silent for a moment, his stone-cold expression utterly unreadable.

“Fine,” he snaps. “Let’s go.”

Race recoils a little.

“You’re coming along?”

“Ain’t no chance you’re going alone," Jack sighs. “And someone’s gonna have to drag you home when you get soaked.”

Race swats Jack on the ear, and Jack finally cracks half a smile.

“I’m gonna win. Just you wait and see, Kelly.”

-

They get stopped at the door.

“Who’s your pal?”

“My brother,” Race replies, and it’s only half a lie. Brothers don’t have to be blood. He offers the bouncer a wry smile. “Says I’m too young to come alone, so I thought I’d let him come watch.”

Jack has the good sense not to speak, just stays tight against Race’s side. There’s a chance this could blow up in their faces and get them turned away, but Race is hoping he’s got just enough youthful charm to pull this off. Everyone he met last week seemed to like him, so the odds should be good.

“You’re a keen one, kid,” the bouncer laughs, “bringing a babysitter to the fight. Get in here.”

Thank god that worked. They walk into the crowded club, hazy with smoke and almost too dark to see.

“I ain’t heard you talk so Irish before,” Jack chuckles, practically under his breath. “That’s new.”

“I forgot to tell you,” Race mutters as subtly as he can, “my name’s Conor when I’m here. Half-Italian ain’t a good look around all these Irishmen, so Antonio’s off the table, and they wouldn’t believe I was really just called Racetrack neither, so I stole my old man’s name and his accent.”

“Good god,” Jack sighs, “I can’t believe we’re really doing this.”

Race rolls his eyes.

“Just have some fun. I’m gonna go find O’Connell, but you should grab a drink. Stick to the story if anyone asks— you’re here keepin’ your little brother, Conor Higgins, outta trouble. Folks’ll get a kick outta that.”

Jack, while obviously not too enthused about the situation, is a good sport and an even better liar, so Race isn’t worried about him. Even if he’ll get an earful in the morning for how reckless it was to even be going here in the first place… for now, Jack just gives him a quick hug.

“Good luck. You better win that fight and make this worth all the fuss.”

And then he’s off towards the bar, and Race is headed to the back to get ready.

-

He realizes, once he’s in the ring, that O’Connell has decided to have some fun with him.

He’d been told he was up against another new kid, who was right around his size— it was supposed to be a fair fight.

That’s not who steps up to face him.

The kid— Murphy Gallagher, he’s been called around the club— has to be at least Jack’s age, and twice as broad as Race himself. He seems rather amused by the slight panic that Race is well aware his expression has just given away.

“Surprise. Initiation ain’t fair, kid,” Murphy laughs. “Give it your best shot, alright?”

Race swallows.

Shit.

He wants this. He knows it’s trouble to be getting involved with this scene, but it’s a leg up in the world for when he gets too old for papes, isn’t it? He can read, but he can’t write too well, so he doesn’t have much shot at a respectable career; poor and uneducated folks like himself end up in factories, and that’s the absolute last thing he wants. If he can get good at fighting, he might have a shot.

He offers Murphy the cockiest smirk he can muster, as they shake hands in the centre of the ring.

“You’re on.”

-

For two rounds, Race holds his own. He goes down each time, but the rounds are decently long, and he lands a lot of good hits— the biggest problem is just that this tougher, older kid can last longer. When Race starts to tire out from the effort of fighting someone twice his size, Murphy can easily rain a few more solid hits on him until he’s winded enough to hit the floor.

“Get it together,” O’Connell warns before the start of the third round, as he wipes some blood from Race’s face. “Don’t make me look like an idiot for bringing you in here. Show us what you’ve got.”

“I’m trying,” Race huffs, exhausted.

There’s sweat in his eyes, and his ribs are screaming in pain. He’s sure he’s busted up enough that even the kids back at the Lodge will question it— he gets in his share of fights, but he usually knows when to give up and beat it. That’s not really an option here.

“Try harder,” O’Connell teases. He slaps Race on the shoulder. “Get back in there.”

And so he does.

Murphy hits him in the side as soon as the whistle blows, and Race stumbles. He’s so tired. The crowd is laughing at what’s turning into a disappointing but amusing fight— Race obviously has nothing on his opponent, and there’s no chance he’ll be invited back here. He’s getting soaked for nothing, isn’t he?

His back hits the ropes when he’s struck again, and for a moment, he considers giving in right there and then.

“Come on, Racer!” he hears Jack shout from somewhere in the room. “You’re faster than that! Get up!”

Something suddenly clicks.

Race is faster than this guy. Of course he is. He’s been too stuck in a boxing frame of mind from the fights he’d watched last week, but standing strong and taking hits isn’t how Racetrack Higgins fights. No, he keeps people on their toes, and the fact that he’s in a ring doesn’t have to stop him, does it?

Just as Murphy steps back, clearly thinking he’s won this laughably easy round, Race springs off of the ropes and launches himself forward. He punches Murphy in the face before he’s even got time to react, and then he’s off to bounce against the ropes on the other side of him.

The crowd goes wild, and Race finds himself smiling. Murphy lumbers towards him to throw a right hook, but all Race can think is keep fucking moving, so he darts out of the way and lands a hard jab at the guy’s exposed ribs. He comes around the back before Murphy can even spin, and in what might be a rash decision, opts to jump onto his back and try to pummel him from there.

If there are rules to this fight, he’s not following them anymore… but it wasn’t exactly within the rules to throw him up against someone well out of his weight class, was it?

They end up on the floor somehow, Murphy having twisted onto his back, with Race’s legs locked over his hips. Race rains punches down on him while he’s still disoriented, taking a sick satisfaction in the way the bigger kid has started gasping— the wind has been knocked out of him, and there’s blood all over his nose and mouth.

For one glorious moment, Race thinks he might’ve won this round… until Murphy gets his bearings, grabs him, flips him over onto his back, and promptly knocks his lights out with one brutal punch.

-

Jack is in front of him when he comes to.

He’s sitting on the floor, propped up against the outside of the ring, surrounded by people. Someone is wiping up the blood from his shirtless chest, and another set of hands are holding his head, obviously trying to inspect some kind of damage. There’s someone else waiting next to him with a glass of water, ready to hand it to him when he wakes up.

Jack is there, though, knelt in front of him, looking absolutely terrified.

“Don’t gimme that look,” Race laughs, his words coming out a little slurred. There’s blood in his mouth, and one of his teeth feels a little wiggly. “I’m fine.”

“I thought you were dead,” Jack snaps. “When you just laid there and ain’t even twitched, I thought that fucker killed you. You ain’t never allowed to do this again, Conor, you hear me?”

One of the guys cleaning him up— a lackey of O’Connell’s— laughs quietly at that.

Jack is probably right, at least. After that miserable defeat, any shot Race might’ve had at a prizefighting career is good and gone.

“It was fun,” Race grins. He takes a sip from the water that’s been given to him. “At least I tried it.”

“Atta boy,” the guy who’d been holding his head chuckles. “You seem fine. There’s just a scratch up there but they bleed like hell. Nothing to worry about. Good hustle, kid.”

He leaves, and Race lets his head loll for a moment as the exhaustion truly hits him. Hopefully he can at least grab a drink before he’s kicked out of here— he deserves one, he figures. He fought hard.

Jack seems about to say something else, but before he can, they’re interrupted by O’Connell himself striding over. He takes a knee next to Race; he’s grinning, a cigar between his teeth, and a little bundle of something in his hand.

He holds it out to Race— it’s a membership card to the club, and four whole dollars.

“Welcome to Sharkey Athletic Club, Higgins. Here’s your prize.”

Race’s eyes go wide.

“But I lost.”

O’Connell shakes his head and laughs.

“Course you did. You had no shot. You weren’t supposed to win.” He holds his cigar between two fingers to gesticulate with it. “You gave us a show and you fought dirty— that’s what initiation’s all about. I knew you had it in you.”

Race takes the card and the money, still sort of stunned.

“Your brother’s a real live-wire, ain’t he?” O’Connell continues, patting Jack’s back as he stands back up. “If you wanna try your own fight sometime, let a fella know. Maybe there’s something in Higgins blood, eh?”

Jack is obviously pissed at this outcome, but he pulls himself together and nods, so as to not break his cover.

“I think I’ll let Conor handle the fighting, sir,” he chuckles. “He gets in enough trouble for the two of us. Someone’s gotta drag him back home at the end of the night.”

Race grins. He’s always loved watching the way Jack can effortlessly sell any lie he needs to; he even slips his voice into the Irish lilt that he probably picked up from his own father, just like Race. They’ve got a lot in common, the two of them.

“Better he fights in here than out on the street somewhere, hey? He’s got a good head on his shoulders. This kid’ll go far.”

O’Connell walks away. Race and Jack are left alone in a crowded room.

“Was I good?” Race asks. His head is still spinning a little. “Like, actually?”

It seems Jack can’t help but nod.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I was impressed. I ain’t happy about it, but you were damn good.”

Race grins.

“So you’ll let me come back?”

Jack considers it for a moment.

“There’s no stopping you, is there?”

“Nope.”

Jack sighs.

“Fine.” He reaches a hand out to help Race up. “But you owe me a drink or ten with that prize money of yours.”

Race laughs as he gets to his feet. Everything hurts, but he’s satisfied.

“You got it, boss.”

#ill prob put it on ao3 eventually but not tonight! lol #this is a tumblr exclusive folks #so that being said pls comment or rb if you feel so inclined <3 i love feedback #jack kelly #racetrack higgins #newsies #my writing #violence tw

[sangled]

shipping win! they have different but equally terrible coping mechanisms

#sangspeaks #sketches #shipping meme #ship dynamic #tumblr exclusive folks. do you wanna know a secret #whenever i haven't posted or drawn in a bit #i make a quick art meme like this and scamper away #and it's usually a hit #this shit's easy all i gotta draw is bald people

[royalarchivist]

The May 2024 VOD Timestamp document has been added to the main QSMP VOD Timestamps Archive, but unlike previous months, I'm enabling public editing.

Since I'm no longer actively updating the VOD Timestamp documents, I wanted to give folks the opportunity to add things themselves, if it's something they're interested in. Brief stream summaries are also welcome, like the short stream recap posts the QSMP Twitter updates team used to post for each member at the end of the day.

If this experiment goes well, I'll leave public editing enabled for future timestamp documents as well.

#mod talk #¯\_(ツ)_/¯ #I'm capable of undoing any possible greifing by trolls or whatever but I'd rather not have to do it #Tumblr exclusive. I ain't offering this to Twitter folks

[skrunksthatwunk]

you go to a lesbian blog and find it says women only!! no men allowed!!! and go oh! excuse me, um, what about other lesbians? plenty of lesbians are genderqueer... and they go well, okay, go fuck yourself tim chop off your sweaty dick and stop calling yourself a lesbian. you do not have a dick, actually. you think about that fact often, even though it does you no good. you do not tell this person that.

you go to another lesbian blog and it says women only and you try again, and this time they change it to wlw + nblw only (non-men who love non-men :D). and you'll say hey i appreciate that but gender's not really that cut and dry for a lot of people. someone could be both a man and nonbinary, for instance. i just worry that you're looking at nonbinary as a generic third gender, or an extension of womanhood. i mean yeah you include nblw in your tags but all your posts are about pussy-havers exclusively. what's with that? and they say go fuck yourself you pervy man pretending to be a lesbian. you tried to sneak in but i won't let you.

so you go to a lesbian blog with a dozen or so posts about queer people needing to be more weird about it and you sigh in relief. but you still see the men dni. that's odd. hoping for the best, you say hey! i know you mean well but please maybe don't put men dni at the end of the lovely posts on your lesbian blog bc some lesbians are men. and they'll be like ok!! well you're allowed ;) and you say no that's not. no. some men are lesbians not just me. you think about your own dicklessness and wonder if that's why you were given entry. and you add that even if male lesbians are allowed, there's no indication of that. how would anyone know without asking? and they're like ohh gotcha gotcha well men dni + this is for sapphics only!! and you'll be like ok well that treats the concepts of men and sapphics as mutually exclusive identities and i just told you that's not true and you agreed with me so.. i don't think that solves our problem. and they're like. ok. fine. men dni but genderfluid and multigender people are allowed! and you're like no see that's. that's still the same thing.. you're saying the same thing just with different words. if you don't want men to interact but you're fine with multigender/genderfluid/etc ppl interacting then you either don't see them as Real Men (because they don't reach a standard of Full Manhood) or Complete Men (because they're only Part-Time Men), both of which suggest that they are, in some way, not men or less-than men, which is invalidating and defeats the point of the exception in the first place (accommodation) OR that you don't really mean the dni which is confusing and inconsistent and makes guydykes feel weird and uncomfortable and excluded from the lesbian space you're trying to cultivate. and they're like um. ok. so. cishet men dni? and you're like well i think that makes more sense, but what if someone identifies as both a cishet man and a sapphic? again, if we're trying to accommodate the genderfucky populace then that has to be a possibility that is considered. and they say god you people are never happy. what do you want me to do? what am i supposed to say to keep the right men out? and you pause. you empathize with the need for a space free from dudes trying to fuck you straight and feminine. dudes who watch lesbian porn and joke about what they'd do if they were allowed into girls locker rooms. who look at you like a piece of meat, and like someone who looks at women like pieces of meat in the same way he does. you get it. you know. you want a space where you can be sapphic, too. that's why you came to these blogs in the first place. you brace yourself and you say well i don't know that there are "right men" to keep out. i don't know that there's any single label that would accomplish whatever it is you're trying to accomplish. you could go for "sapphics only" or "queers only" and i think that might be the closest thing to what you want, but it's never going to be perfect. creating any exclusive space is going to shut out people you didn't account for, and the broader the label, the more people will be shut out that you didn't want to shut out. and what about people who don't know if they're allowed? what of questioning transbians, where are they supposed to go? and, frankly, i think i might rather my dykey posts get read and appreciated by a gay guy who sees me as a man than a woman who only sees me as a sacred womb, pure from male perversions or violence or whatever. i think community might just be more complex than a dni can handle. and they look at you and say i don't want to not have a dni. i think you're too permissive. you can't just "what about" or microlabel your way into everything. go fuck yourself, i bet you're not even a lesbian anyway. go find a real problem to get mad about.

you go to a lesbian blog. you ignore the men dni because you know you probably don't even count to them. or maybe you do count and, out of respect for your manhood, they'd shun you accordingly. you try to feel okay about that. you scroll past dozens of posts about mediocre men and gagging at straight friends' boyfriends and how gross and undeserving men are of the beautiful women they couple up with and how all women should be gay so they can get treated right and and and and and. you finally find a post about curling into someone you love and feeling at peace and try to lose yourself in it. you know that feeling is what unites you, what makes you belong. you try to focus on it. you think about carding your hands through a butch's hair or lacing fingers with a femme and feeling warm and loved and more yourself than you ever have before. like this is who you're meant to be. you read about lesboys and butch boytoys and genderfucky dykes and big hairy deep-voiced wonderful women (like you want to be someday, like you wish you could make yourself) and you try to ignore the men dni underneath each and every post. and you daydream about meeting someone kind and earnest at a lesbian bar even though you don't think any such bars exist within three states of you and you can't drink and don't want to drink because you need to be in control of yourself at all times so you don't fuck up like you're always about to and here in the nonexistent lesbian bar you feel wanted and safe and in good company. you picture your ideal, happiest self. it is a mistake. ideal-you has a goatee. not the mascara one you smear on and call drag even though you know it's not drag, not really, the beard you call drag because you think everyone would look at you sadly if you told them it was just to pretend you had something out of your reach. a beard that's soft and that you grew and that cannot be smudged away if you get too comfortable with it. the dream shatters. your people pull away from you, their scoffs mixing with the mind-numbing gay girl bedroom pop you learned to settle for just to have something that almost resembled you, they all pull away and turn their backs and do not look at you. you're too close to being a man now, even though you're the same amount of man as before. and they know you're not supposed to interact with men, not as you would with dykes, at least. and it sours. it's all your imagination, all in your head, but it sours.

you sigh. you think about how small you are. how short, how narrow, how feeble. how your voice pitches up when you talk to strangers because it's easier to speak quietly when it carries more, and because you're nervous. because it's a chore to talk, like everything is. you think about testosterone. you think about how your family would look at you, the questions they would ask, your answers they would only pretend to accept. the uncomfortable glances and whispered questions they'd try to hide from you. you think about how small you are, and how small you will always be. how you don't know of a way to fix it, but even if there was one, no one would want you anymore. you'd be the only one thinking it made you a cooler dyke. you think about how you don't even want a T-voice all the time, how you'll never be able to switch it at will, because you don't know how and can't bring yourself to figure it out. you think about how your throat closes around every hint of your own attraction. how wanting is perverse, how wanting is invasive, how wanting is embarrassing and too vulnerable so it must stay anonymous, as an online witness, and how you can barely manage to form or maintain friendships because your brain makes you pull away, always spinning out and struggling to recover from the simplest of interactions. how they'll all leave you and you won't chase after them at all and how that will hurt them. how stuck you get. how it looks like nothing's holding you back, how that frustrates everyone who thought you were going to be more than you were. the people you love who understand except when it comes to being ghosted, being shut out. how you don't want to hurt them. how you can't tell them that because you're stuck. how you turn to stone when touched, how you never reach out, how you lose your speech and can't look at people, how your autism is fun and sexy until it becomes real and you never see them anymore, how much you longed for someone who knew everything without you having to explain, and who loved you anyway. how unreasonable you know that is to expect of anyone. you think about that not-even-real lesbian bar. you think about how you still can't drive. how you can't leave your home on your own, without dragging somebody into helping you. how you can't leave your body. how you can't leave your manhood behind.

you think about finding another lesbian blog and ignoring everything. about skimming it for the parts you can juice some meaning from. the parts men ignore and don't understand, and how typical of you it is to do so. or the parts where you're not welcome and you should accept that, because it's for lesbians only. how you are a lesbian anyway. how you're meant to choose lesbian or man, how each is a betrayal of some kind to yourself or your people, your family, your lovely strangers, your rare friendly acquaintances. about the parts that tell you you're not wanted, that you're ugly and lazy and gross and insert yourself everywhere without even asking. about the parts that tell you you are hated, and how lesbians are above it all by rejecting men. how lesbians are each blessed miracles. about the parts that say you should be ashamed of being whatever twisted confused freak you are, of everything, of looking and wanting or not looking or not wanting, of picking and choosing instead of taking it all in with a smile. after all, shouldn't you take it? or is your ego too fragile, as men's so often are? aren't you tired? good. we're not here for your consumption. and we sure as hell don't want your company or "community" or whatever. didn't you read the sign? no boys allowed. and if you want to come in you have to make up your mind. as if you haven't told them the only answer you have. you're both. you're both.

you know you broke the rule by interacting.

but it gets lonely sometimes. you wonder if they know.

#before i maybe get yelled at: #1) no i do not think ppl are evil for having men dnis no i do not think these are all equal transgressions even #though there is an overlap that should be examined that i think is based in a degree of lesbian separatism + exclusionism #2) yes there are lesbian blogs and people that are cool about genderfucky people. i'm not talking about them #3) this is a stylized vent post about trying to find lesbian content on tumblr that isn't like this. all these dnis/rules are ones i have #encountered. no i do not literally tell these people to change their dnis to suit me. the conversations are symbolic and ideological in #nature. if i find a blog with men dni i generally go somewhere else. it's about emotions. it's about my feelings on that it's not literally #about dming someone demanding they change things. it's not about demanding that You change things or else you're a bad person. #4) it is about the conflicts and hypocrisy and inconsistency of strict and exclusive sexuality labels persisting in gender-diverse spaces #and how it affects me as a lesbian who is a man who is a woman who is fucking whatever else. and yes it is about transphobia too. #5) it's about how lesbians feel the need to exclude men and how i think efforts to do so fail and hurt ppl and are often misguided #tht i think also comes up in like. bi lesbian/mspec lesbian/gaybian discourse. i'm not any of those myself but it seems like there's overla #6) if this post seems whiny and sad and insecure that's because it probably is. i have a right to be all of those things. #7) no i do not think all lesbians are man-hating assholes. i am a lesbian. i love lesbians. i love dykes and most of them are fantastic ppl #i just think the general bullshit of the world leads to this defensive thing that ends up hurting others in our community y'know? #8) i get that my perspective/experience is a bit unusual and many lovely ppl haven't considered it. that's part of why i'm sharing this #nyarla dni #<- sorry man it's too vulnerable. gonna keep this one to the internet-only folks

[sandshadow9]

Love Language

“Are you okay? You’ve been staring at that scroll for hours.”

Peril watched as Clay heaved an enormously dramatic sigh and flopped his head on the desk. It hit with a rattling thunk.

“I knoooow,” he moaned, his usually adorable face scrunched in misery. “I’ve been trying to write this letter to Umber for hours but it’s really super hard.”

Carefully, always carefully, Peril approached the desk. The light from her firescales joined with the small halos of orange that flickered from the candles that lined the desk. Beneath Clay’s head was a piece of parchment half filled with his signature left-leaning scrawl. She glowered at it. “Want me to burn it for you? Would that make you feel better?”

The smile that fell across his face was like a summer wind under her wings. “That’s very…sweet, Peril, but I don’t think that’s going to solve my problem.” He lifted his head, his sweet brown eyes flitting across the page sadly. “I just… never really got good at spelling and stuff. I want to get better, but every time I try to write to someone or help a student with their work, I end up getting all confused and mix my letters up.”

Peril leaned over his shoulder, eyeing the evil paper that dared to hurt Clay in any way. The written text had several sections that had been marked out and re-written. At the bottom of the page was a word – at least she guessed it was the same word – rewritten in multiple ways and scratched out every time.

“What’s…gongeous?”

Clay put a talon over his face. “I’m trying to spell gorgeous. I’ve been sitting here forever trying to spell it.”

“Oh!” Peril said brightly, titling her head to the side. “G-O-R-G-E-O-U-S. Gorgeous!”

Clay looked at her wonderingly, like she had just shown him a portal to an endless field of cows. “Peril…yes! Thank you! That’s exactly it!” Quickly he began scribbling down the letters. He smiled down at the parchment, a weight lifted from his wings, and then he looked back at her in a way that stole the breath right out of her chest. “You’re so smart. I wish you could help me write all my letters.”

                                                 ~~~

In Turtle’s opinion, a SeaWing was the perfect dragon for a midnight snack stealth mission to the kitchen. First of all, he could see in the dark so no worrying about slamming into walls or stumbling down the wrong tunnel. Secondly… uh… he didn’t actually have a second point down yet.

The list was still a work in progress, after all.

As he approached the entrance to the library, he noticed that the solid darkness eased into something more shadowy and flickering. Light filtered out of the library entrance and fell over the stone cave in warm puddles of soft orange. Alarmed, Turtle realized someone must have left a candle burning in the library.

Being the self-preserving and heroic dragon he was, Turtle immediately hurried into the library to save the school.

He did not find a candle. What he found instead was a hundred times more dangerous.

Peril was sitting in the library, holding some thin granite slates in her burning talons. Turtle recognized them as the slates Starflight had made so that he could read by touch. Luckily they also doubled as fire-proof reading material.

Peril was studying the text so intensely that Turtle had to clear his throat several times before she looked up.

“Go away. I’m busy,” she said.

“Okay but…what are you doing?” Turtle asked.

“I’m reading the dictionary,” she stated mater-of-factly, “and memorizing the spelling for each word.”

Turtle considered this. He considered it for several minutes, turning it around in his head so many times it made him dizzy. Finally he asked the only question you can ask in this sort of situation. “But…why?”

Peril looked up from her reading, her eyes dreamy and unfocused. “In case… someone needs to know how to spell a word. Then I can always be ready.”

Turtle decided not to point out that there were easier ways to check one’s spelling that didn’t include memorizing the dictionary. But, it was late and he was hungry.  

“Well… have fun with that. I’m off to find some leftover croissants.”

“Bring me back some, would you?” Peril asked, and Turtle stifled a groan. He and his stomach had really been hoping to finish off whatever was left.

But then he turned back and saw Peril, his best friend in the whole world, sitting on her own in a dark room.

He sighed to himself and, being the heroic dragon he was, promised to be right back.

#TUMBLR EXCLUSIVE for now #Uhh I wrote this in a trance at 10:30 pm and its kind of valentines themed ig #romance love #BUT ALSO platonic okay folks #anyway lets see if people read fanfics on tumblr #wof #wingsoffire #wings of fire #Clay wof #Peril wof #Turtle wof #my writing

[anonymouspuzzler]

you know what else I got big into recently? yugo limbo's BE KIND MY NEIGHBOR !!! y'all, if you're 18+ and are comfortable with the various Themes, please, please, I beg of you. buy this comic and check it out. I fully and genuinely think it's a masterpiece. it means so much to me in so many ways. truly, you will not regret reading this beautiful, wonderful, singularly unique comic. GET IT NOW

(detailed image descriptions under the cut!)

[Image 1: A colored illustration of Wegg standing in front of Mr. Neighbor, one hand on his hip, the other holding up a middle finger. Wegg is shouting "EXCUSE ME!!! He asked for no pickles!!!!!" Mr. Neighbor is staring down at him with a smile and a thought bubble showing the gay pride flag.]

[Image 2: A black and white drawing of Mr. Neighbor drawn from the chest up. He is wearing a turtleneck sweater and has his hair up in pigtails. He is winking and sticking out his tongue, looking to the left, stimming with his hands held up in front of his chest. There are little sparkles around his face because he's just that cute and handsome.]

[Image 3: A black and white drawing of Wegg from the waist up. He has a little cat smile and his tongue sticking up, one eyebrow raised. A thought balloon next to him reads, in bold handwritten text, "MEN'S TITS".]

[Image 4: A single-panel black-and-white comic. Mr. Neighbor, drawn from the chest up, is holding up his hands, on which there are novelty oven mitts that look like lobster claws. He is smiling widely and saying "Wegg, look! These oven mitts look like lobster claws, mm!" Wegg, seen from behind in front of him, is thinking, "I'm going to do unspeakable things to this man", with little hearts flying around the thought bubble.]

[Image 5: A black-and-white three-panel comic of Wegg and Mr. Neighbor. In the first panel, they are walking with their arms around each other, Wegg on the left and Mr. Neighbor on the right. Wegg, smiling smugly, says, "Y'know, like 'nya'". Neighbor, smiling back down at him, replies, "...what?" The next panel cuts in close on Wegg, smirking with a little kitty grin and holding up a hand like a cat paw, saying, "'nya'", with a drawing of kitty ears above his head to further emphasize. The final panel cuts back to Mr. Neighbor, with a wide-eyed, confused smile and multiple question marks around his head, responding, "I. Still don't understand. (help???)"]

[Image 6: A black-and-white drawing of Mr. Neighbor, wearing an apron and holding a freshly-baked pie with autumn leave decorations on top, smiling with a grim expression in his eyes, saying, "I have got to bake festive pies or I'm going to (in cursive) Die". On the table in front of him are several plates of cookies, muffins, other pies, a cake with gravestone and ghost decorations, and an Entire Pumpkin. In the background, Wegg is casually tossing an entire pie into his mouth.]

[Image 7: A black and white drawing of Mr. Neighbor and Wegg dressed as, respectively, Morticia and Gomez Addams. Wegg, tilting his head and winking, is holding a lit cigar in his right hand while bringing Neighbor's hand up to kiss with his left. Neighbor has brought his right hand up to his face and is visibly swooning. There are two heart symbols drawn between the two of them.]

[Image 8: A black and white "reaction shot" to the previous Halloween costume drawing. Tillman, drawn from the shoulders up, is looking over anxiously as if desperately trying not to realize something about himself, thinking, "I want to be both of them simultaneously??" Behind him, Glenn is staring with a visible blush, thinking (text bolded and motion-blurred) "BOOBA"]

[Image 9: A black and white, three-panel comic. In the first panel, Puzz's sona, seen from behind, is reaching up towards something on the top shelf in a grocery store of some kind, visibly shaking and sweating as she struggles to reach. Mr. Neighbor walks up from the right, smiling and saying, "Oh! I can help you!" In the second, he is smiling and holding out a generically-labeled "BOX!", saying, "Here you go, ma'am". In the third, Puzz, looking Utterly Miserable, stares up at an obliviously smiling Mr. Neighbor; an arrow pointing to Puzz says "28" while one pointing to Neighbor says "26".]

[Image 10: A black and white drawing of Puzz's sona, standing neutrally and staring up with a mildly curious expression, next to Wegg, looking incredibly smug and standing with one hand on his hip. An arrow pointing to Puzz notes " 4'11" ", while one pointing to Wegg notes " 5'0" & about to be fucking insufferable about it".]

#anonymous puzzler art #be kind my neighbor #mr neighbor #wegg #im not associated with the comic or company in any form btw i have to emphasize that #i just genuinely love it and think it's a brilliant work and thus will shill every chance i get #please. do yourself a favor. read it if you're able #if i were more financially stable i would genuinely offer to buy it for folks LMAO #also that last wegg drawing is a Tumblr Exclusive LOL i posted it just to twitter circle previously due to shyness

[lovemeonlytilthespring]

Here we go. The Big One. We're heading to the Middle Ages today for the REAL meat of the story, leading up to the BIG moment that retroactively ties everything together.

(Original upload date: October 17, 2022)

#live a live #rosie plays live a live #hold onto your hearts folks #this is gonna hurt #and oh boy did it ever #gonna be some new footage for this one! #an exclusive to the tumblr version!

[askablindperson]

In what way does alt text serve as an accessibility tool for blind people? Do you use text to speech? I'm having trouble imagining that. I suppose I'm in general not understanding how a blind person might use Tumblr, but I'm particularly interested in the function of alt text.

In short, yes. We use text to speech (among other access technology like braille displays) very frequently to navigate online spaces. Text to speech software specifically designed for blind people are called screen readers, and when use on computers, they enable us to navigate the entire interface using the keyboard instead of the mouse And hear everything on screen, as long as those things are accessible. The same applies for touchscreens on smart phones and tablets, just instead of using keyboard commands, it alters the way touch affect the screen so we hear what we touch before anything actually gets activated. That part is hard to explain via text, but you should be able to find many videos online of blind people demonstrating how they use their phones.

As you may be able to guess, images are not exactly going to be accessible for text to speech software. Blindness screen readers are getting better and better at incorporating OCR (optical character recognition) software to help pick up text in images, and rudimentary AI driven Image descriptions, but they are still nowhere near enough for us to get an accurate understanding of what is in an image the majority of the time without a human made description.

Now I’m not exactly a programmer so the terminology I use might get kind of wonky here, but when you use the alt text feature, the text you write as an image description effectively gets sort of embedded onto the image itself. That way, when a screen reader lands on that image, Instead of having to employ artificial intelligences to make mediocre guesses, it will read out exactly the text you wrote in the alt text section.

Not only that, but the majority of blind people are not completely blind, and usually still have at least some amount of residual vision. So there are many blind people who may not have access to a screen reader, but who may struggle to visually interpret what is in an image without being able to click the alt text button and read a description. Plus, it benefits folks with visual processing disorders as well, where their visual acuity might be fine, but their brain’s ability to interpret what they are seeing is not. Being able to click the alt text icon in the corner of an image and read a text description Can help that person better interpret what they are seeing in the image, too.

Granted, in most cases, typing out an image description in the body of the post instead of in the alt text section often works just as well, so that is also an option. But there are many other posts in my image descriptions tag that go over the pros and cons of that, so I won’t digress into it here.

Utilizing alt text or any kind of image description on all of your social media posts that contain images is single-handedly one of the simplest and most effective things you can do to directly help blind people, even if you don’t know any blind people, and even if you think no blind people would be following you. There are more of us than you might think, and we have just as many varied interests and hobbies and beliefs as everyone else, so where there are people, there will also be blind people. We don’t only hang out in spaces to talk exclusively about blindness, we also hang out in fashion Facebook groups and tech subreddits and political Twitter hashtags and gaming related discord servers and on and on and on. Even if you don’t think a blind person would follow you, You can’t know that for sure, and adding image descriptions is one of the most effective ways to accommodate us even if you don’t know we’re there.

I hope this helps give you a clearer understanding of just how important alt text and image descriptions as a whole are for blind accessibility, and how we make use of those tools when they are available.

#image descriptions #alt text #accessibility #a11y #screen readers

[foldingfittedsheets]

I made my first pride flag set in 2017, the cute little dragons. At the time there wasn’t an agreed upon lesbian flag going around. The movement around the current one started gaining traction in 2018 (at least on tumblr), which is when the trouble started for me.

The first time I heard there was a lesbian flag I did get a little excited. But when I saw it I was immediately turned off. It was so… pink. That didn’t look how I felt. It felt like society’s cute idea of lesbian colors, still being forced into cute pink skirts like I had been all my life. I would later learn it was pioneered as the Lipstick Lesbian Flag. The rainbow felt more like me.

While I was still mulling how I felt about it, the doxxing started. Despite the flags youth it had some rather extreme proponents. I’d get tagged and harassed for not having a lesbian flag. Bigger blogs would deride me as being lesbophobic, pushing me further from the label I’d liked best. I didn’t want to be a lesbian if it meant being associated with those people.

Many of the blogs targeting me were TERFs, linking the pinkness to an exclusion of men. That’s when it really started to bother me. Trans folk all share the same flag, regardless of gender despite very different experiences. Every other sexuality shared! Why were lesbians booting gay men out the door? Why wasn’t the movement for a homo flag?

Then I started finding other creators talking about it. The harassment and rabid fury if they didn’t carry lesbian flag merch. The lesbian flags didn’t sell but woe betide anyone for not offering them. Gay men have never swarmed my inbox demanding a flag. Gay men don’t mind sharing a rainbow- and I don’t either.

For a long time the lesbian flag became a trigger. I’d scan my notes and my heart would start pounding when someone would mention it. I was on edge waiting for more harassment and attacks. I’d tense up seeing it on profile pics, wary of who was using it.

It’s become ubiquitous over the past several years. It will never be my flag, but I accept that it’s around. Regardless of meanings assigned arbitrarily to the colors later, it’s just not for me. I love the rainbow, I love sharing it with everyone. I’m pretty certain I’ll never offer a lesbian flag in my shop. But I’ll always have a rainbow.

#ramblies #lesbian pride flag #lesbian flag #lgbtq #planning to link to think in my FAQ in case anyone’s wondering why I’m writing this up

[blackbirdffxiv]

So I would like to regularly become active again on tumblr, and post more, but I could always use more folks to follow and interact with.

So if you have a primarily XIV blog (doesn't have to be exclusive, as I enjoy other games too on occasion), whether it's a main or side thing, can y'all give this a poke, a like, a reblog, etc. just so I can see the active faces around here?

(also ones ran by individuals preferably 21 years and older, as I am very much not a tumblr for minors (⁠*⁠﹏⁠*⁠;⁠) )

#ffxiv

[nothorses]

Hello there, I found on my tl this post presenting a different view on "baeddelism" from the perspective of a trans woman that claims that she was actually there when the og group existed and explains why the word has become somewhat of a transmisogynistic slur. And I wanted to ask you If you might have any thoughs on this reading of the subject matter?

www.tumblr.com/euniexenoblade/741692501713387520/anyways-baeddel-is-a-slur-against-trans-women

I mean, I think there's merit to the idea that calling people "baeddels" when they don't actually claim to be one themselves is at best counterproductive. The term refers less to A General Ideology, and more to a very specific movement- or, more accurately, two unrelated-but-similar movements that happened in the early/mid 2010's.

There's a term for what folks are usually talking about when they call some random trans woman a "baeddel" when she says she believes trans men oppress trans women: "TIRF", or trans-inclusionary radical feminist. It's a term that was coined by people who call themselves by it, and it's a lot more broad & generally useful here. It doesn't come with ties to a group that dissolved because of sexual assault allegations & rape apologism, and it isn't rooted in an Old English slur, which means it's a lot less charged. It's less likely to get people to shut down or laugh your whole point off because of how clear it is that you aren't listening to or engaging in anything they have to say with good faith.

So yes, I agree, calling random people "baeddels" is not in good taste. Don't do it. "TIRF" exists, it's more accurate, and it's less likely to hurt your argument anyway.

That said.

I take issue with the implication that:

a) Baeddels were tiny and utterly non-influential (therefore all references to them at this point are malicious exaggerations and bogeymen), and

b) Everyone self-describing as a "baeddel" today is actually just reclaiming a slur, exactly like people do with "tranny" and "faggot".

Baeddels (on Tumblr; again, there was a "baeddel" movement on Facebook at the time as well, but it was unrelated and ideologically distinct) were not so small that they had no impact, and to characterize them as widely unpopular- or, worse, influential only in that everyone hated them so much that alt-right bigots immediately revived "baeddel"s original meaning as a slur to in order to victimize all trans women- should immediately ping some alarm bells.

Baeddelism's core ideology centered around the idea that trans women are the most oppressed group, that transmisogyny is the root of all oppression, that trans women are always victimized, never safe, never understood, except around and by exclusively other trans women. This sucks, because there is very real oppression and trauma being preyed on here; trans women are encouraged to be paranoid and distrustful of anyone different from them, and their own experiences with oppression are weaponized against them in order to do so. This should remind you of the recruitment tactics cis radfems use.

That aside, there are some places where baeddelism's influence has been documented: @baeddel-txt is one example. Note that a lot of the posts archived there are recent. Here's one of the original crew, still active and spewing the same shit. Baeddelism has been experiencing something of a renaissance in recent years, too. Here's one of the original (ex-)baeddels talking about it as recently as 2021.

This is not "reclaiming a slur", these people are referring very explicitly to the original ideology & the desire, or observed desire, for that same movement to be brought back in the present day.

Does that make every TIRF-y trans woman a baeddel?

No!

But it is incredibly, and suspiciously disingenuous to deny the harm they caused, the influence they had, and the admiration people still hold for their ideology. And it is downright ahistorical to claim that the term is now, or was at the time that the group was most popular, used genuinely as a slur (sources, I am begging you).

Do not call people "baeddels" unless they're claiming the word for themselves. Do not allow anyone to make you think, even for a moment, that transfeminine people are The Enemy; they do not oppress us, they do not benefit from our oppression, and the vast majority of them are not interested in any kind of lateral violence against us in the first place. They are our allies. Do not forget that they are our allies.

Forgetting that trans people are each other's best allies is what lead to baeddelism in the first place. We need each other. Things can only improve for any of us if we fight for each other. Don't let resentment sabotage you- or hurt our trans siblings.

#baeddels #baeddelism #transunity

[thebatchpod]

All the memes that Becca made for our new episode. A special exclusive for our tumblr folks because Instagram is dumb and wouldn't let me post all of them including my favorite (yoU WoULDn'T FEED a DOG).

#star wars #the bad batch #the good the bad and the batch #tgtbatb #tbb #tbb crosshair #tbb omega #tbb tech #tbb hunter #tbb echo #tbb wrecker

[todayontumblr]

Friday, July 28th.

Good Omens 2. *spoilers*

The boys are back in town.

It's been a long time-a-comin', or it certainly feels that way. In the four years since Season One, we've been through a lot of a lot, including the-unnamed obvious. Fortunately, however, it would seem that sometimes good things really do come to those who wait. Not just good things, but Good Omens, in fact. #good omens 2, to be precise. Our beloved unholy duo are back in town for more absurd, chaotic, and thoroughly endearing dalliances with Earth, life, death, and Armageddon—and the season is released today, for your viewing delight, on Amazon Prime.

And the hype machine is full steam ahead: @neil-gaiman has kindly provided the Neil Gaiman Tumblr FAQ: Good Omens for the many, many clamouring over themselves with burning questions ahead of the new episodes. Gifs and fanart aplenty run rampant on @goodomensonprime. Then to mark this most hallowed of Friday, July 28ths, the good folk at @primevideo have kindly bestowed us with this ~exclusive~ clip. You can check it out, well, right here. Don't say we don't spoil you.

#today on tumblr #good omens spoilers #good omens 2 #good omens fanart #good omens season 2 #good omens season two #michael sheen #david tennant #good omens on prime #go 2 spoilers #good omens #good omens two spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers

[evgar]

currently painting sadie like i said i would months ago after i finished the arthur one 🥲 (i began working on it yesterday btw!! the face barely started looking decent like an hour ago, still a lot of work left)

i usually post my wips on twitter because it's what i've been doing for the past few years, BUT now that i'm posting here again y'all deserve some too, so this one is for the tumblr folks exclusively <3

#i was terrified yesterday when i started because i though it was going to look awful #trust the process i guess #also painting blonde hair (or coloring it in any form of traditional art) is my worst nightmare i hate it so much) #all for my woman tho #sadie adler #wip #my art #evgar rants

[genericpuff]

saw a post criticizing lore rekindled a while back, and one of the points made was "it's unfair to rachel that someone else can profit off and make money off her work"

do you profit off lore rekindled??? i don't remember if you ever said that you were monetizing lore rekindled, so i'm unsure where this piece of information came from

I literally do NOT profit off Rekindled in any way shape or form, it's a Tumblr comic that's free to read, zero subscriptions, paywalls, or ads.

I did just recently open a Patreon and apply my Twitch channel to become affiliate, but 1. my Patreon doesn't have any paid members yet , 2. my Patreon won't be offering rewards that limit the reading experience of Rekindled (it's gonna be like random doodles n junk), and 3. I haven't even streamed since I applied for Affiliate and people are watching the streams for art and lo-fi, not for any sort of exclusive reading experiences that wouldn't also be accessible on Tumblr (you just get to watch me slowly work on Rekindled while playing FF XIV LMAOO) All of these restrictions I have in place is to prevent exactly what folks assume or accuse me - profiting off Rachel's IP. At the end of the day I just wanna create an AU fanfic project, even if it's created out of disappointment for what could have been.

I *do* spend a few hundred a month though for my assistant. So I'm working on Rekindled completely at a loss, out of my own pocket. So in that regard, even if I were to monetize any part of Rekindled... it wouldn't be for my own profitable gain, I'd maybe be able to cover some of my assistant fees 🤣 (but that's just hypothetical food for thought, because as I said above, I don't want to monetize Rekindled because of the potentially legal and ethical issues in doing so. Making money is also just not why I'm making Rekindled because it's something I wanna just do for fun! Money complicates things, turns shit into a job :'0) And let's be real, in that hypothetical scenario, I don't think any money I could generate on my free to read Tumblr project would come anywhere close to threatening Rachel's bottom line 🤣

And this isn't to throw anyone under the bus but when people get suspicious of Rekindled profiting off LO, I can't help but think of the actual fans of LO selling handmade LO merch on Etsy and LO-style adoptables and other arts and crafts dedicated to their favorite comic. And I'm not gonna judge them for that, more power to 'em if people wanna buy their cool stuff (and some of it is really REALLY cool, like I wanna buy their stuff too LOL), I just think it's ironic that people separate the two because... I'm not a diehard fan? Or because Rekindled has gotten popular here. Beats me. All that "popularity" is still just a niche remake of a niche comic in a niche medium. It's not Spiderman Lotus levels of big 🤣 but I know it probably feels that big to people who are engaged with this fandom and spend a lot of time in it.

There's an opposite side of being a yes man that perpetuates similar behavior on the other side - when you come up with reasons to rag on someone just for the sake of it because you can't rationalize them NOT being the all 100% pulp of evil LMAO (and I see people do this even to Rachel and it's not fair imo, like people who use the Lolita thing as a way to accuse Rachel of being a legitimate pedophile? Like no, I don't think we should be normalizing serious accusations like that. I think she's just misinformed in a lot of ways at worst and suffering from dark romantasy porn brainrot at best LOL).

Like, as an example, I've also seen people claim stuff like I'm in the fan spaces telling people not to read LO and to read LR instead? Which like... why would I do that, LR isn't for the fans anyways and I don't gain anything by being a dick in their space 🤣 If my own readers are doing that, that's out of my hands (but respectfully don't do this please!!! there's a reason I don't use the standard LO hashtags and only stick to the anti ones!!!!) but again (and this is a big assumption so take with grains of salt) I think people just like to claim these things because they feel it's just naturally the right thing to do when someone who has opinions they don't like actually puts them into action. Because now they can't say shit like "well if you think you're so much smarter than Rachel why don't YOU write the story!" and "you don't know what it's like to manage a comic!" so they grapple onto whatever other argument they can even if it's misconstrued or entirely pulled out of thin air and not backed up with any legitimate evidence.

Their perspectives make sense to them. My perspective makes sense to me. I don't blame people for being suspicious when they see someone like me pour this much time and effort and money into a project like Rekindled, they assume it HAS to do with something they can rationalize from their own point of view, like wanting to "steal" Rachel's work or profit off it or take it for myself out of "jealousy".

Sorry to disappoint y'all with a boring answer, but I'm just someone who was once a huge fan of LO and couldn't let it go. I'm just someone who's way too hyperfixated, with a lot of passion for making comics and experience to match. I'd still be making it even if I didn't have an assistant. I'd still be making it even if I was stuck working with nothing but paper and pencil. Because I love making it and I love what it means to me, and I love that it makes other people feel the same way I do about it.

And that's really all I have to say on that.

#ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything #lore rekindled #lore rekindled ama

[katy-l-wood]

New year, new branding!

Well folks, here we go! Big announcement time! After a lot of thinking over the last year about myself and my art and writing and where I want to go with everything, I have decided to stop operating under just my name and rebrand everything under a shiny new umbrella! The name Aspen & Copper is inspired by my favorite trees and the place I grew up, which has copper in the name. And, as you can see, it's a very outdoorsy theme with topography and mountains and camping and such. I'm stupidly in love with it, honestly.

As for WHY this is happening, I needed a more clear dividing line between who I am and what I do, and operating under just my name wasn't allowing me to do that. But a big rebrand like this is no easy undertaking! It is, in fact, still in progress and probably will be for awhile yet given how busy I am. But the new website is officially done, and that was one of the biggest pieces. If you have time, please go poke around the new site. I'm quite proud of it!

What this means for YOU, my lovely subscribers and fans, is the following:

My books will still be by Katy L. Wood, but they'll be under the umbrella of Aspen & Copper.

I'm in the process of switching most of my socials over to Aspen & Copper. (More info on Tumblr specifically here in a sec.)

I'm retiring my old email address and switching over to [email protected], so if you want to reach out to me about projects or anything else, that's the spot to do it! The old email still works, but if you reach out to that one you'll be redirected to the new one.

The www.Katy-L-Wood.com URL will now redirect to www.AspenAndCopper.com.

That's about it! All my projects are still going ahead as normal, just with this lovely little new brand leading the way.

What this means for tumblr specifically:

This blog isn't going anywhere! But I do have a new blog, @aspenandcopper, (which isn't fully set up yet, shhhh...) which will eventually JUST be my art and writing so there's a (somewhat) cleaner way to navigate all that stuff just on Tumblr itself.

Also, I am toying with changing the name of this blog at some point, but I haven't found anything I like enough yet so for now it shall stay my name. Don't worry, if I change it I'll make sure to make the change very clear to everyone!

Newsletter:

I swear I'm going to get better about sending out my newsletter. 😭 To make it more fun for anyone who signs up, I'll be including an exclusive look at new art and writing stuff in each one! The most recent one had a sneak peak of a little doodle of Royal and Shiloh that I'm cleaning up and finishing, and a piece with Dustin and Vivian I've been working on for awhile! Plus a fun snippet from my book, Camp Daze, which is (finally) launching on Kickstarter very, very soon!

You can sign up for the newsletter super easy on my website.

Speaking of Kickstarter

Like I said above, Camp Daze is FINALLY launching soon, so be sure to sign up to be notified about the launch. More info about that coming soon.

#Aspen and Copper #Branding Update #About Me