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box Memes

Boning
Boning
Usersub
Usersub
Boxes
Boxes
The First
The First
Championship
Championship
And
And
else
else
unilad
unilad
import
import
trajectory
trajectory 

    
                    

                

            
        
    

    
    
    






            

            
            

                

                    
                

                

                    
                    
                    

                        


	


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                            Hitmaker of the Month: Writer-Producer 30 Roc on Hitting No. 1 With Roddy Ricch's 'The Box'
                        
                    

                    
                

            
        
    
        
            
                

                    

                        
                    

                    
                    

                        
                            These Roddy Ricch Memes About “The Box” Are Hilarious
                        
                    

                    
                

            
        
    
    






    

    
    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        kevinkevinson:

“You two could at least say hello,” Wymack said, somewhat aggrieved. “There’s no point,” Kevin said. “All they are is a distraction.“ “It’s called a support network. Look it up.“ “Thea is watching from South tonight,” Kevin said, looking to the elevated VIP box. It was too far away and too high up for Neil to make out any faces, but there was a small crowd gathered at the windowed walls already. Knowing the Court was here to watch them play sent a chill through Neil’s veins. Kevin dragged his stare back to Wymack’s face and said, “and my father comes to all of my games. That is enough." On Wymack’s other side, Abby’s gaze softened. Wymack’s jaw worked for a moment before he could say in an even tone, "Your mother would be proud of you." "Not just of me,” Kevin said in a rare bout of humanity.-The King’s Men (All for the Game Book 3) by Nora Sakavicmy scene for the @giveyourbacktome-zine​! I had so much fun working on this and I was lucky to snag a #dadscene :D: kevinkevinson:

“You two could at least say hello,” Wymack said, somewhat aggrieved. “There’s no point,” Kevin said. “All they are is a distraction.“ “It’s called a support network. Look it up.“ “Thea is watching from South tonight,” Kevin said, looking to the elevated VIP box. It was too far away and too high up for Neil to make out any faces, but there was a small crowd gathered at the windowed walls already. Knowing the Court was here to watch them play sent a chill through Neil’s veins. Kevin dragged his stare back to Wymack’s face and said, “and my father comes to all of my games. That is enough." On Wymack’s other side, Abby’s gaze softened. Wymack’s jaw worked for a moment before he could say in an even tone, "Your mother would be proud of you." "Not just of me,” Kevin said in a rare bout of humanity.-The King’s Men (All for the Game Book 3) by Nora Sakavicmy scene for the @giveyourbacktome-zine​! I had so much fun working on this and I was lucky to snag a #dadscene :D
        

            
            

                
                
                    kevinkevinson:

“You two could at least say hello,” Wymack said, somewhat aggrieved. “There’s no point,” Kevin said. “All they are is a distraction.“ “It’s called a support network. Look it up.“ “Thea is watching from South tonight,” Kevin said, looking to the elevated VIP box. It was too far away and too high up for Neil to make out any faces, but there was a small crowd gathered at the windowed walls already. Knowing the Court was here to watch them play sent a chill through Neil’s veins. Kevin dragged his stare back to Wymack’s face and said, “and my father comes to all of my games. That is enough." On Wymack’s other side, Abby’s gaze softened. Wymack’s jaw worked for a moment before he could say in an even tone, "Your mother would be proud of you." "Not just of me,” Kevin said in a rare bout of humanity.-The King’s Men (All for the Game Book 3) by Nora Sakavicmy scene for the @giveyourbacktome-zine​! I had so much fun working on this and I was lucky to snag a #dadscene :D: kevinkevinson:

“You two could at least say hello,” Wymack said, somewhat aggrieved. “There’s no point,” Kevin said. “All they are is a distraction.“ “It’s called a support network. Look it up.“ “Thea is watching from South tonight,” Kevin said, looking to the elevated VIP box. It was too far away and too high up for Neil to make out any faces, but there was a small crowd gathered at the windowed walls already. Knowing the Court was here to watch them play sent a chill through Neil’s veins. Kevin dragged his stare back to Wymack’s face and said, “and my father comes to all of my games. That is enough." On Wymack’s other side, Abby’s gaze softened. Wymack’s jaw worked for a moment before he could say in an even tone, "Your mother would be proud of you." "Not just of me,” Kevin said in a rare bout of humanity.-The King’s Men (All for the Game Book 3) by Nora Sakavicmy scene for the @giveyourbacktome-zine​! I had so much fun working on this and I was lucky to snag a #dadscene :D
                    
                
            

            
                
                
kevinkevinson:

“You two could at least say hello,” Wymack said, somewhat aggrieved. “There’s no point,” Kevin said. “All they are is a d...

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
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        A box is a box: A box is a box
        

            
            

                
                
                    A box is a box: A box is a box
                    
                
            

            
                
                
A box is a box

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
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        Swords ~ Box: Swords ~ Box
        

            
            

                
                
                    Swords ~ Box: Swords ~ Box
                    
                
            

            
                
                
Swords ~ Box

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
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        tzeentchs-secretary:
shitposting-hobbits-to-gallifrey:

aberrantkenosis:

archatlas:





Really Big Coin Skrekkøgle


This is our Really Big Coin. It is big because it makes other things look small when photographed next to it. Actually, it is a 20:1 replica of the EUR 50-cent, you see it being milled out here. We needed to do quite a bit of sanding, lacquering and smudging to obtain the desired look and some climbing to get into required shooting position (you need to get up real high to take good pictures). The result is a short series of photographs, attempting to visually scale down real-sized objects.






Images and text via

what the fuck



Me scrolling through the images: oooooh photos of miniature things with a coin for scale
Me when I reached the text: waIT A MINUTE



I have doubts about that telephone box.
: tzeentchs-secretary:
shitposting-hobbits-to-gallifrey:

aberrantkenosis:

archatlas:





Really Big Coin Skrekkøgle


This is our Really Big Coin. It is big because it makes other things look small when photographed next to it. Actually, it is a 20:1 replica of the EUR 50-cent, you see it being milled out here. We needed to do quite a bit of sanding, lacquering and smudging to obtain the desired look and some climbing to get into required shooting position (you need to get up real high to take good pictures). The result is a short series of photographs, attempting to visually scale down real-sized objects.






Images and text via

what the fuck



Me scrolling through the images: oooooh photos of miniature things with a coin for scale
Me when I reached the text: waIT A MINUTE



I have doubts about that telephone box.

        

            
            

                
                
                    tzeentchs-secretary:
shitposting-hobbits-to-gallifrey:

aberrantkenosis:

archatlas:





Really Big Coin Skrekkøgle


This is our Really Big Coin. It is big because it makes other things look small when photographed next to it. Actually, it is a 20:1 replica of the EUR 50-cent, you see it being milled out here. We needed to do quite a bit of sanding, lacquering and smudging to obtain the desired look and some climbing to get into required shooting position (you need to get up real high to take good pictures). The result is a short series of photographs, attempting to visually scale down real-sized objects.






Images and text via

what the fuck



Me scrolling through the images: oooooh photos of miniature things with a coin for scale
Me when I reached the text: waIT A MINUTE



I have doubts about that telephone box.
: tzeentchs-secretary:
shitposting-hobbits-to-gallifrey:

aberrantkenosis:

archatlas:





Really Big Coin Skrekkøgle


This is our Really Big Coin. It is big because it makes other things look small when photographed next to it. Actually, it is a 20:1 replica of the EUR 50-cent, you see it being milled out here. We needed to do quite a bit of sanding, lacquering and smudging to obtain the desired look and some climbing to get into required shooting position (you need to get up real high to take good pictures). The result is a short series of photographs, attempting to visually scale down real-sized objects.






Images and text via

what the fuck



Me scrolling through the images: oooooh photos of miniature things with a coin for scale
Me when I reached the text: waIT A MINUTE



I have doubts about that telephone box.

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
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        bogleech:

lynati:

movemequotes:

Once a little boy went to school.One morningThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.He liked to make all kinds;Lions and tigers,Chickens and cows,Trains and boats;And he took out his box of crayonsAnd began to draw.
But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make flowers.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make beautiful onesWith his pink and orange and blue crayons.But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And it was red, with a green stem.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at his teacher’s flowerThen he looked at his own flower.He liked his flower better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just turned his paper over,And made a flower like the teacher’s.It was red, with a green stem.
On another dayThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make something with clay.”“Good!” thought the little boy;He liked clay.He could make all kinds of things with clay:Snakes and snowmen,Elephants and mice,Cars and trucksAnd he began to pull and pinchHis ball of clay.
But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make a dish.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make dishes.And he began to make someThat were all shapes and sizes.
But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And she showed everyone how to makeOne deep dish.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish;Then he looked at his own.He liked his better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just rolled his clay into a big ball againAnd made a dish like the teacher’s.It was a deep dish.
And pretty soonThe little boy learned to wait,And to watchAnd to make things just like the teacher.And pretty soonHe didn’t make things of his own anymore.
Then it happenedThat the little boy and his familyMoved to another house,In another city,And the little boyHad to go to another school.
The teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.And he waited for the teacherTo tell what to do.But the teacher didn’t say anything.She just walked around the room.
When she came to the little boyShe asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?”“Yes,” said the little boy.“What are we going to make?”“I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher.“How shall I make it?” asked the little boy.“Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher.“And any color?” asked the little boy.“Any color,” said the teacher.And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.
~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

…


I hate that I hesitated to reblog this just because I expect people to think it’s pretentious or melodramatic when it’s seriously real as fuck and I’ve witnessed it
: bogleech:

lynati:

movemequotes:

Once a little boy went to school.One morningThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.He liked to make all kinds;Lions and tigers,Chickens and cows,Trains and boats;And he took out his box of crayonsAnd began to draw.
But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make flowers.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make beautiful onesWith his pink and orange and blue crayons.But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And it was red, with a green stem.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at his teacher’s flowerThen he looked at his own flower.He liked his flower better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just turned his paper over,And made a flower like the teacher’s.It was red, with a green stem.
On another dayThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make something with clay.”“Good!” thought the little boy;He liked clay.He could make all kinds of things with clay:Snakes and snowmen,Elephants and mice,Cars and trucksAnd he began to pull and pinchHis ball of clay.
But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make a dish.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make dishes.And he began to make someThat were all shapes and sizes.
But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And she showed everyone how to makeOne deep dish.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish;Then he looked at his own.He liked his better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just rolled his clay into a big ball againAnd made a dish like the teacher’s.It was a deep dish.
And pretty soonThe little boy learned to wait,And to watchAnd to make things just like the teacher.And pretty soonHe didn’t make things of his own anymore.
Then it happenedThat the little boy and his familyMoved to another house,In another city,And the little boyHad to go to another school.
The teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.And he waited for the teacherTo tell what to do.But the teacher didn’t say anything.She just walked around the room.
When she came to the little boyShe asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?”“Yes,” said the little boy.“What are we going to make?”“I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher.“How shall I make it?” asked the little boy.“Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher.“And any color?” asked the little boy.“Any color,” said the teacher.And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.
~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

…


I hate that I hesitated to reblog this just because I expect people to think it’s pretentious or melodramatic when it’s seriously real as fuck and I’ve witnessed it

        

            
            

                
                
                    bogleech:

lynati:

movemequotes:

Once a little boy went to school.One morningThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.He liked to make all kinds;Lions and tigers,Chickens and cows,Trains and boats;And he took out his box of crayonsAnd began to draw.
But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make flowers.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make beautiful onesWith his pink and orange and blue crayons.But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And it was red, with a green stem.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at his teacher’s flowerThen he looked at his own flower.He liked his flower better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just turned his paper over,And made a flower like the teacher’s.It was red, with a green stem.
On another dayThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make something with clay.”“Good!” thought the little boy;He liked clay.He could make all kinds of things with clay:Snakes and snowmen,Elephants and mice,Cars and trucksAnd he began to pull and pinchHis ball of clay.
But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make a dish.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make dishes.And he began to make someThat were all shapes and sizes.
But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And she showed everyone how to makeOne deep dish.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish;Then he looked at his own.He liked his better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just rolled his clay into a big ball againAnd made a dish like the teacher’s.It was a deep dish.
And pretty soonThe little boy learned to wait,And to watchAnd to make things just like the teacher.And pretty soonHe didn’t make things of his own anymore.
Then it happenedThat the little boy and his familyMoved to another house,In another city,And the little boyHad to go to another school.
The teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.And he waited for the teacherTo tell what to do.But the teacher didn’t say anything.She just walked around the room.
When she came to the little boyShe asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?”“Yes,” said the little boy.“What are we going to make?”“I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher.“How shall I make it?” asked the little boy.“Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher.“And any color?” asked the little boy.“Any color,” said the teacher.And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.
~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

…


I hate that I hesitated to reblog this just because I expect people to think it’s pretentious or melodramatic when it’s seriously real as fuck and I’ve witnessed it
: bogleech:

lynati:

movemequotes:

Once a little boy went to school.One morningThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.He liked to make all kinds;Lions and tigers,Chickens and cows,Trains and boats;And he took out his box of crayonsAnd began to draw.
But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make flowers.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make beautiful onesWith his pink and orange and blue crayons.But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And it was red, with a green stem.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at his teacher’s flowerThen he looked at his own flower.He liked his flower better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just turned his paper over,And made a flower like the teacher’s.It was red, with a green stem.
On another dayThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make something with clay.”“Good!” thought the little boy;He liked clay.He could make all kinds of things with clay:Snakes and snowmen,Elephants and mice,Cars and trucksAnd he began to pull and pinchHis ball of clay.
But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make a dish.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make dishes.And he began to make someThat were all shapes and sizes.
But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And she showed everyone how to makeOne deep dish.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish;Then he looked at his own.He liked his better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just rolled his clay into a big ball againAnd made a dish like the teacher’s.It was a deep dish.
And pretty soonThe little boy learned to wait,And to watchAnd to make things just like the teacher.And pretty soonHe didn’t make things of his own anymore.
Then it happenedThat the little boy and his familyMoved to another house,In another city,And the little boyHad to go to another school.
The teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.And he waited for the teacherTo tell what to do.But the teacher didn’t say anything.She just walked around the room.
When she came to the little boyShe asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?”“Yes,” said the little boy.“What are we going to make?”“I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher.“How shall I make it?” asked the little boy.“Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher.“And any color?” asked the little boy.“Any color,” said the teacher.And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.
~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

…


I hate that I hesitated to reblog this just because I expect people to think it’s pretentious or melodramatic when it’s seriously real as fuck and I’ve witnessed it

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
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        The AI Box: The AI Box
        

            
            

                
                
                    The AI Box: The AI Box
                    
                
            

            
                
                
The AI Box

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
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        ups-dogs:Captains “log”, stardate 2020:The starship U.P.S. Biscuitprise, on a 5 year mission to deliver packages and seek out doggo life in the vast darkness of the Newberg galaxy, has encountered a strange new life form.It appears to have some sort of cloaking technology that prevented it from showing up on our sensors. It is only just now visible on our screens, its presence betrayed by its glowing green eyes that have taken control of my ship and exerted a strange, hypnotic effect on my crew. It appears to be attempting to barter with us by offering a large chunk of worthless space debris in exchange for our entire supply of biscuits. All attempts to resist its alien, hypnotic influence have failed. Our deflector shields are down; our phasers have no effect; even Mr Spock’s Vulcan Scratchie Claw is of no use against its unearthly power. Mr Scott informs me that the warp engines can no longer take the strain of trying to escape, so we are left with no option but to surrender to its insatiable demands if we want to save the Biscuitprise from utter destruction. I will therefore be beaming a big box of Bones to this bewitching and beastly beggar, in the hopes that it will then release its hold upon us and spare my crew and my ship from its alien wrath!By Scott Hodges: ups-dogs:Captains “log”, stardate 2020:The starship U.P.S. Biscuitprise, on a 5 year mission to deliver packages and seek out doggo life in the vast darkness of the Newberg galaxy, has encountered a strange new life form.It appears to have some sort of cloaking technology that prevented it from showing up on our sensors. It is only just now visible on our screens, its presence betrayed by its glowing green eyes that have taken control of my ship and exerted a strange, hypnotic effect on my crew. It appears to be attempting to barter with us by offering a large chunk of worthless space debris in exchange for our entire supply of biscuits. All attempts to resist its alien, hypnotic influence have failed. Our deflector shields are down; our phasers have no effect; even Mr Spock’s Vulcan Scratchie Claw is of no use against its unearthly power. Mr Scott informs me that the warp engines can no longer take the strain of trying to escape, so we are left with no option but to surrender to its insatiable demands if we want to save the Biscuitprise from utter destruction. I will therefore be beaming a big box of Bones to this bewitching and beastly beggar, in the hopes that it will then release its hold upon us and spare my crew and my ship from its alien wrath!By Scott Hodges
        

            
            

                
                
                    ups-dogs:Captains “log”, stardate 2020:The starship U.P.S. Biscuitprise, on a 5 year mission to deliver packages and seek out doggo life in the vast darkness of the Newberg galaxy, has encountered a strange new life form.It appears to have some sort of cloaking technology that prevented it from showing up on our sensors. It is only just now visible on our screens, its presence betrayed by its glowing green eyes that have taken control of my ship and exerted a strange, hypnotic effect on my crew. It appears to be attempting to barter with us by offering a large chunk of worthless space debris in exchange for our entire supply of biscuits. All attempts to resist its alien, hypnotic influence have failed. Our deflector shields are down; our phasers have no effect; even Mr Spock’s Vulcan Scratchie Claw is of no use against its unearthly power. Mr Scott informs me that the warp engines can no longer take the strain of trying to escape, so we are left with no option but to surrender to its insatiable demands if we want to save the Biscuitprise from utter destruction. I will therefore be beaming a big box of Bones to this bewitching and beastly beggar, in the hopes that it will then release its hold upon us and spare my crew and my ship from its alien wrath!By Scott Hodges: ups-dogs:Captains “log”, stardate 2020:The starship U.P.S. Biscuitprise, on a 5 year mission to deliver packages and seek out doggo life in the vast darkness of the Newberg galaxy, has encountered a strange new life form.It appears to have some sort of cloaking technology that prevented it from showing up on our sensors. It is only just now visible on our screens, its presence betrayed by its glowing green eyes that have taken control of my ship and exerted a strange, hypnotic effect on my crew. It appears to be attempting to barter with us by offering a large chunk of worthless space debris in exchange for our entire supply of biscuits. All attempts to resist its alien, hypnotic influence have failed. Our deflector shields are down; our phasers have no effect; even Mr Spock’s Vulcan Scratchie Claw is of no use against its unearthly power. Mr Scott informs me that the warp engines can no longer take the strain of trying to escape, so we are left with no option but to surrender to its insatiable demands if we want to save the Biscuitprise from utter destruction. I will therefore be beaming a big box of Bones to this bewitching and beastly beggar, in the hopes that it will then release its hold upon us and spare my crew and my ship from its alien wrath!By Scott Hodges
                    
                
            

            
                
                
ups-dogs:Captains “log”, stardate 2020:The starship U.P.S. Biscuitprise, on a 5 year mission to deliver packages and seek out doggo life...

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
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        ups-dogs:On a dark and lonely night in the hills outside of Newberg, Oregon…a forlorn, feeble, famished, freezing, four-legged figure falters slowly towards my truck, trembling gingerly on arthritic limbs in the icy winter air.His grey muzzle and sorrowful eyes tell a sad tale of many years of hunger, pain and despair. A faint and sorrowful whimper emits from his throat as he gazes beseechingly at my bountiful box of biscuits, hoping against hope that I might ease his pangs of hunger and grant him one more night of survival by sharing a small morsel of sustenance with him.My heartstrings taut with compassion, I dig deep into my biscuit box and gently place 4 biscuits into his quivering jowls, praying with all my might that I have arrived in time to prevent his imminent starvation.And then…the magic happens.Like Popeye eating his can of spinach, an incredible transformation suddenly takes place. He is cured! The pain in his limbs is gone! His eyes sparkle! In less than a second, strength and vigor have returned to his formerly weak and malnourished body! In one bound he leaps from the steps of the truck and proceeds to to zoomies all about the yard like a puppy 12 years his junior, his speed turning him into a veritable blur, before running into the house thru his dog door. Through the living room window I see him leap up onto his spot on the couch next to the woodstove, a veritable blizzard of biscuit crumbs flying all over the lap of his human as he chomps happily away at the bounty of goodness that I have bestowed upon him. With tears of joy in my eyes I proceed to drive away, feeling a solemn pride in the knowledge that my generosity has saved this once-suffering dog from what was most certainly an imminent death from starvation. And to those of you who claim that I have merely been bamboozled and bewitched out of biscuits by a canine con artist, I say this; I am a trained professional with years of experience. Do I REALLY look like a guy who could get manipulated out of treats by a mere dog?By Scott Hodges: ups-dogs:On a dark and lonely night in the hills outside of Newberg, Oregon…a forlorn, feeble, famished, freezing, four-legged figure falters slowly towards my truck, trembling gingerly on arthritic limbs in the icy winter air.His grey muzzle and sorrowful eyes tell a sad tale of many years of hunger, pain and despair. A faint and sorrowful whimper emits from his throat as he gazes beseechingly at my bountiful box of biscuits, hoping against hope that I might ease his pangs of hunger and grant him one more night of survival by sharing a small morsel of sustenance with him.My heartstrings taut with compassion, I dig deep into my biscuit box and gently place 4 biscuits into his quivering jowls, praying with all my might that I have arrived in time to prevent his imminent starvation.And then…the magic happens.Like Popeye eating his can of spinach, an incredible transformation suddenly takes place. He is cured! The pain in his limbs is gone! His eyes sparkle! In less than a second, strength and vigor have returned to his formerly weak and malnourished body! In one bound he leaps from the steps of the truck and proceeds to to zoomies all about the yard like a puppy 12 years his junior, his speed turning him into a veritable blur, before running into the house thru his dog door. Through the living room window I see him leap up onto his spot on the couch next to the woodstove, a veritable blizzard of biscuit crumbs flying all over the lap of his human as he chomps happily away at the bounty of goodness that I have bestowed upon him. With tears of joy in my eyes I proceed to drive away, feeling a solemn pride in the knowledge that my generosity has saved this once-suffering dog from what was most certainly an imminent death from starvation. And to those of you who claim that I have merely been bamboozled and bewitched out of biscuits by a canine con artist, I say this; I am a trained professional with years of experience. Do I REALLY look like a guy who could get manipulated out of treats by a mere dog?By Scott Hodges
        

            
            

                
                
                    ups-dogs:On a dark and lonely night in the hills outside of Newberg, Oregon…a forlorn, feeble, famished, freezing, four-legged figure falters slowly towards my truck, trembling gingerly on arthritic limbs in the icy winter air.His grey muzzle and sorrowful eyes tell a sad tale of many years of hunger, pain and despair. A faint and sorrowful whimper emits from his throat as he gazes beseechingly at my bountiful box of biscuits, hoping against hope that I might ease his pangs of hunger and grant him one more night of survival by sharing a small morsel of sustenance with him.My heartstrings taut with compassion, I dig deep into my biscuit box and gently place 4 biscuits into his quivering jowls, praying with all my might that I have arrived in time to prevent his imminent starvation.And then…the magic happens.Like Popeye eating his can of spinach, an incredible transformation suddenly takes place. He is cured! The pain in his limbs is gone! His eyes sparkle! In less than a second, strength and vigor have returned to his formerly weak and malnourished body! In one bound he leaps from the steps of the truck and proceeds to to zoomies all about the yard like a puppy 12 years his junior, his speed turning him into a veritable blur, before running into the house thru his dog door. Through the living room window I see him leap up onto his spot on the couch next to the woodstove, a veritable blizzard of biscuit crumbs flying all over the lap of his human as he chomps happily away at the bounty of goodness that I have bestowed upon him. With tears of joy in my eyes I proceed to drive away, feeling a solemn pride in the knowledge that my generosity has saved this once-suffering dog from what was most certainly an imminent death from starvation. And to those of you who claim that I have merely been bamboozled and bewitched out of biscuits by a canine con artist, I say this; I am a trained professional with years of experience. Do I REALLY look like a guy who could get manipulated out of treats by a mere dog?By Scott Hodges: ups-dogs:On a dark and lonely night in the hills outside of Newberg, Oregon…a forlorn, feeble, famished, freezing, four-legged figure falters slowly towards my truck, trembling gingerly on arthritic limbs in the icy winter air.His grey muzzle and sorrowful eyes tell a sad tale of many years of hunger, pain and despair. A faint and sorrowful whimper emits from his throat as he gazes beseechingly at my bountiful box of biscuits, hoping against hope that I might ease his pangs of hunger and grant him one more night of survival by sharing a small morsel of sustenance with him.My heartstrings taut with compassion, I dig deep into my biscuit box and gently place 4 biscuits into his quivering jowls, praying with all my might that I have arrived in time to prevent his imminent starvation.And then…the magic happens.Like Popeye eating his can of spinach, an incredible transformation suddenly takes place. He is cured! The pain in his limbs is gone! His eyes sparkle! In less than a second, strength and vigor have returned to his formerly weak and malnourished body! In one bound he leaps from the steps of the truck and proceeds to to zoomies all about the yard like a puppy 12 years his junior, his speed turning him into a veritable blur, before running into the house thru his dog door. Through the living room window I see him leap up onto his spot on the couch next to the woodstove, a veritable blizzard of biscuit crumbs flying all over the lap of his human as he chomps happily away at the bounty of goodness that I have bestowed upon him. With tears of joy in my eyes I proceed to drive away, feeling a solemn pride in the knowledge that my generosity has saved this once-suffering dog from what was most certainly an imminent death from starvation. And to those of you who claim that I have merely been bamboozled and bewitched out of biscuits by a canine con artist, I say this; I am a trained professional with years of experience. Do I REALLY look like a guy who could get manipulated out of treats by a mere dog?By Scott Hodges
                    
                
            

            
                
                
ups-dogs:On a dark and lonely night in the hills outside of Newberg, Oregon…a forlorn, feeble, famished, freezing, four-legged figure fal...

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
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        shed1nja:
salty-sadness22:

kintatsujo:

pretentioussongtitle:

disease-danger-darkness-silence:

captainroxythefoxy:

e-v-roslyn:

guu:

kuruluv:

catwithaknife:

https://www.vice.com/en_us/article/kzqpd9/heres-an-insane-story-about-a-rogue-music-teacher-cutting-a-kids-hair

what the fuck

i’m just gonna take this post for a moment so i can rant but like
i Hate how entitled adults can feel over a child’s hair!
it started when i was young myself, i wanted a mohawk, but my dad didn’t approve of that look on a “girl”, and insisted i’d regret such a bold cut. at 16 i was finally given full autonomy over my own head.
but then i have a son and everyone around us is trying to keep his hair short. when we finally moved out just me my partner and him, i told him he doesn’t need to get any haircuts he doesn’t want.
so he starts growing it out, it’s still short but coming on mid-length. his teacher makes a point to tell me it’s getting long as if i don’t have eyes. i hear her walking out with him one day talking to him about haircuts, as if to coax him into one. eventually i get child services called on me for ‘forcing a transgender lifestyle’ over what i can only assume is from a combination of me drawing cute ponies on his valentine box and letting him go to school in a ponytail.
he kept it short for awhile after but told me he wanted to grow it out again, so i let him of course. he comes home one day after getting a haircut at his grandpa’s and tells me he didn’t Want the haircut.
i ask why he got it then and learned he was bribed with a promise of a surprise IF he cut his hair.
tl;dr people need to back the hell up off of children and let them have owership of what’s on THEIR body! /rant


Same thing about getting a child to curl or straighten their hair. Or do anything with it. Just let kids have control over their bodies.


This happened to me when I was little too!! Growing up I had naturally tight Shirley Temple curls. The only problem was that you can’t get a hair brush through it if your life depended on it until it grew out over a few years. 
but This One Lady from church decided that leaving my hair messy and curly was child abuse and threatened to call social services on my family every damn time she saw me until one day she was the designated kid watcher and ho boy my momma tells me i came out with tears in my eyes and greasy slicked down hair and that’s where she ends the story because i think my mother beat her ass but yeah.
Leave kids hair alone.

I’m going to be honest, parents who are super-controlling of their children’s hair creep me the fuck out and I’m not entirely certain why except that I get a vague feeling they kind of relegate them to, “annoying talking doll” status.

I loved my daughter’s long blond hair. It was thick and wavy and beautiful but when she told me she wanted it cut short ‘like a boy’(she was four)  I took her to the salon and let her whack it off. 
The stylist was skeptical, ‘are you sure?” and the thing is, she said this to me, not my daughter. So I asked my girl ‘are you sure you want it cut short?’ She was. The hair went. The stylist acted nervous most of the way through like she was waiting for one of us to burst into tears, but it looked cute! And my daughter loved it! (And it’s been short ever since.)

Autonomy over your hair is bodily autonomy and we as a culture need to start holding bodily autonomy as sacred

My family, for years, wouldn’t let me dye/cut my hair really short. I could understand the dye, but the shortest they’d let me go is a bob. They even let me dye my hair before letting me go that short. I’m finally in control of my hair and my hair is one of my favorite things about myself. It’s an easy way to express myself.  
 Let kids do what they want with their hair! Let them have fun with their hair before they’re told to grow up and have ‘professional’ hair! 

My mom had a monopoly over my hair. Wouldn’t let me wear it natural, was obsessed with me having flyaways in the front and wouldn’t let me get out of the car in the mornings until they were flat, permed it when I was 10, wouldn’t let me cut it off for years after even though it was really damaged, vocally disapproved when I finally cut it as short as she’d let me.
When I moved out I stopped putting any heat in it and a few years later I cut it all off again. The second cut was my decision alone and it felt like a weight lifted off me, like no one could ever tell me what to do with it again or tell me “I needed it” to be pretty.



My stepfather and his stepfather forced a hair cut on me 10 years ago because they said i was too girly for their tastes.I grew my hair out ever since because ill never go fucking bald again like those two fucking neo nazis: shed1nja:
salty-sadness22:

kintatsujo:

pretentioussongtitle:

disease-danger-darkness-silence:

captainroxythefoxy:

e-v-roslyn:

guu:

kuruluv:

catwithaknife:

https://www.vice.com/en_us/article/kzqpd9/heres-an-insane-story-about-a-rogue-music-teacher-cutting-a-kids-hair

what the fuck

i’m just gonna take this post for a moment so i can rant but like
i Hate how entitled adults can feel over a child’s hair!
it started when i was young myself, i wanted a mohawk, but my dad didn’t approve of that look on a “girl”, and insisted i’d regret such a bold cut. at 16 i was finally given full autonomy over my own head.
but then i have a son and everyone around us is trying to keep his hair short. when we finally moved out just me my partner and him, i told him he doesn’t need to get any haircuts he doesn’t want.
so he starts growing it out, it’s still short but coming on mid-length. his teacher makes a point to tell me it’s getting long as if i don’t have eyes. i hear her walking out with him one day talking to him about haircuts, as if to coax him into one. eventually i get child services called on me for ‘forcing a transgender lifestyle’ over what i can only assume is from a combination of me drawing cute ponies on his valentine box and letting him go to school in a ponytail.
he kept it short for awhile after but told me he wanted to grow it out again, so i let him of course. he comes home one day after getting a haircut at his grandpa’s and tells me he didn’t Want the haircut.
i ask why he got it then and learned he was bribed with a promise of a surprise IF he cut his hair.
tl;dr people need to back the hell up off of children and let them have owership of what’s on THEIR body! /rant


Same thing about getting a child to curl or straighten their hair. Or do anything with it. Just let kids have control over their bodies.


This happened to me when I was little too!! Growing up I had naturally tight Shirley Temple curls. The only problem was that you can’t get a hair brush through it if your life depended on it until it grew out over a few years. 
but This One Lady from church decided that leaving my hair messy and curly was child abuse and threatened to call social services on my family every damn time she saw me until one day she was the designated kid watcher and ho boy my momma tells me i came out with tears in my eyes and greasy slicked down hair and that’s where she ends the story because i think my mother beat her ass but yeah.
Leave kids hair alone.

I’m going to be honest, parents who are super-controlling of their children’s hair creep me the fuck out and I’m not entirely certain why except that I get a vague feeling they kind of relegate them to, “annoying talking doll” status.

I loved my daughter’s long blond hair. It was thick and wavy and beautiful but when she told me she wanted it cut short ‘like a boy’(she was four)  I took her to the salon and let her whack it off. 
The stylist was skeptical, ‘are you sure?” and the thing is, she said this to me, not my daughter. So I asked my girl ‘are you sure you want it cut short?’ She was. The hair went. The stylist acted nervous most of the way through like she was waiting for one of us to burst into tears, but it looked cute! And my daughter loved it! (And it’s been short ever since.)

Autonomy over your hair is bodily autonomy and we as a culture need to start holding bodily autonomy as sacred

My family, for years, wouldn’t let me dye/cut my hair really short. I could understand the dye, but the shortest they’d let me go is a bob. They even let me dye my hair before letting me go that short. I’m finally in control of my hair and my hair is one of my favorite things about myself. It’s an easy way to express myself.  
 Let kids do what they want with their hair! Let them have fun with their hair before they’re told to grow up and have ‘professional’ hair! 

My mom had a monopoly over my hair. Wouldn’t let me wear it natural, was obsessed with me having flyaways in the front and wouldn’t let me get out of the car in the mornings until they were flat, permed it when I was 10, wouldn’t let me cut it off for years after even though it was really damaged, vocally disapproved when I finally cut it as short as she’d let me.
When I moved out I stopped putting any heat in it and a few years later I cut it all off again. The second cut was my decision alone and it felt like a weight lifted off me, like no one could ever tell me what to do with it again or tell me “I needed it” to be pretty.



My stepfather and his stepfather forced a hair cut on me 10 years ago because they said i was too girly for their tastes.I grew my hair out ever since because ill never go fucking bald again like those two fucking neo nazis
        

            
            

                
                
                    shed1nja:
salty-sadness22:

kintatsujo:

pretentioussongtitle:

disease-danger-darkness-silence:

captainroxythefoxy:

e-v-roslyn:

guu:

kuruluv:

catwithaknife:

https://www.vice.com/en_us/article/kzqpd9/heres-an-insane-story-about-a-rogue-music-teacher-cutting-a-kids-hair

what the fuck

i’m just gonna take this post for a moment so i can rant but like
i Hate how entitled adults can feel over a child’s hair!
it started when i was young myself, i wanted a mohawk, but my dad didn’t approve of that look on a “girl”, and insisted i’d regret such a bold cut. at 16 i was finally given full autonomy over my own head.
but then i have a son and everyone around us is trying to keep his hair short. when we finally moved out just me my partner and him, i told him he doesn’t need to get any haircuts he doesn’t want.
so he starts growing it out, it’s still short but coming on mid-length. his teacher makes a point to tell me it’s getting long as if i don’t have eyes. i hear her walking out with him one day talking to him about haircuts, as if to coax him into one. eventually i get child services called on me for ‘forcing a transgender lifestyle’ over what i can only assume is from a combination of me drawing cute ponies on his valentine box and letting him go to school in a ponytail.
he kept it short for awhile after but told me he wanted to grow it out again, so i let him of course. he comes home one day after getting a haircut at his grandpa’s and tells me he didn’t Want the haircut.
i ask why he got it then and learned he was bribed with a promise of a surprise IF he cut his hair.
tl;dr people need to back the hell up off of children and let them have owership of what’s on THEIR body! /rant


Same thing about getting a child to curl or straighten their hair. Or do anything with it. Just let kids have control over their bodies.


This happened to me when I was little too!! Growing up I had naturally tight Shirley Temple curls. The only problem was that you can’t get a hair brush through it if your life depended on it until it grew out over a few years. 
but This One Lady from church decided that leaving my hair messy and curly was child abuse and threatened to call social services on my family every damn time she saw me until one day she was the designated kid watcher and ho boy my momma tells me i came out with tears in my eyes and greasy slicked down hair and that’s where she ends the story because i think my mother beat her ass but yeah.
Leave kids hair alone.

I’m going to be honest, parents who are super-controlling of their children’s hair creep me the fuck out and I’m not entirely certain why except that I get a vague feeling they kind of relegate them to, “annoying talking doll” status.

I loved my daughter’s long blond hair. It was thick and wavy and beautiful but when she told me she wanted it cut short ‘like a boy’(she was four)  I took her to the salon and let her whack it off. 
The stylist was skeptical, ‘are you sure?” and the thing is, she said this to me, not my daughter. So I asked my girl ‘are you sure you want it cut short?’ She was. The hair went. The stylist acted nervous most of the way through like she was waiting for one of us to burst into tears, but it looked cute! And my daughter loved it! (And it’s been short ever since.)

Autonomy over your hair is bodily autonomy and we as a culture need to start holding bodily autonomy as sacred

My family, for years, wouldn’t let me dye/cut my hair really short. I could understand the dye, but the shortest they’d let me go is a bob. They even let me dye my hair before letting me go that short. I’m finally in control of my hair and my hair is one of my favorite things about myself. It’s an easy way to express myself.  
 Let kids do what they want with their hair! Let them have fun with their hair before they’re told to grow up and have ‘professional’ hair! 

My mom had a monopoly over my hair. Wouldn’t let me wear it natural, was obsessed with me having flyaways in the front and wouldn’t let me get out of the car in the mornings until they were flat, permed it when I was 10, wouldn’t let me cut it off for years after even though it was really damaged, vocally disapproved when I finally cut it as short as she’d let me.
When I moved out I stopped putting any heat in it and a few years later I cut it all off again. The second cut was my decision alone and it felt like a weight lifted off me, like no one could ever tell me what to do with it again or tell me “I needed it” to be pretty.



My stepfather and his stepfather forced a hair cut on me 10 years ago because they said i was too girly for their tastes.I grew my hair out ever since because ill never go fucking bald again like those two fucking neo nazis: shed1nja:
salty-sadness22:

kintatsujo:

pretentioussongtitle:

disease-danger-darkness-silence:

captainroxythefoxy:

e-v-roslyn:

guu:

kuruluv:

catwithaknife:

https://www.vice.com/en_us/article/kzqpd9/heres-an-insane-story-about-a-rogue-music-teacher-cutting-a-kids-hair

what the fuck

i’m just gonna take this post for a moment so i can rant but like
i Hate how entitled adults can feel over a child’s hair!
it started when i was young myself, i wanted a mohawk, but my dad didn’t approve of that look on a “girl”, and insisted i’d regret such a bold cut. at 16 i was finally given full autonomy over my own head.
but then i have a son and everyone around us is trying to keep his hair short. when we finally moved out just me my partner and him, i told him he doesn’t need to get any haircuts he doesn’t want.
so he starts growing it out, it’s still short but coming on mid-length. his teacher makes a point to tell me it’s getting long as if i don’t have eyes. i hear her walking out with him one day talking to him about haircuts, as if to coax him into one. eventually i get child services called on me for ‘forcing a transgender lifestyle’ over what i can only assume is from a combination of me drawing cute ponies on his valentine box and letting him go to school in a ponytail.
he kept it short for awhile after but told me he wanted to grow it out again, so i let him of course. he comes home one day after getting a haircut at his grandpa’s and tells me he didn’t Want the haircut.
i ask why he got it then and learned he was bribed with a promise of a surprise IF he cut his hair.
tl;dr people need to back the hell up off of children and let them have owership of what’s on THEIR body! /rant


Same thing about getting a child to curl or straighten their hair. Or do anything with it. Just let kids have control over their bodies.


This happened to me when I was little too!! Growing up I had naturally tight Shirley Temple curls. The only problem was that you can’t get a hair brush through it if your life depended on it until it grew out over a few years. 
but This One Lady from church decided that leaving my hair messy and curly was child abuse and threatened to call social services on my family every damn time she saw me until one day she was the designated kid watcher and ho boy my momma tells me i came out with tears in my eyes and greasy slicked down hair and that’s where she ends the story because i think my mother beat her ass but yeah.
Leave kids hair alone.

I’m going to be honest, parents who are super-controlling of their children’s hair creep me the fuck out and I’m not entirely certain why except that I get a vague feeling they kind of relegate them to, “annoying talking doll” status.

I loved my daughter’s long blond hair. It was thick and wavy and beautiful but when she told me she wanted it cut short ‘like a boy’(she was four)  I took her to the salon and let her whack it off. 
The stylist was skeptical, ‘are you sure?” and the thing is, she said this to me, not my daughter. So I asked my girl ‘are you sure you want it cut short?’ She was. The hair went. The stylist acted nervous most of the way through like she was waiting for one of us to burst into tears, but it looked cute! And my daughter loved it! (And it’s been short ever since.)

Autonomy over your hair is bodily autonomy and we as a culture need to start holding bodily autonomy as sacred

My family, for years, wouldn’t let me dye/cut my hair really short. I could understand the dye, but the shortest they’d let me go is a bob. They even let me dye my hair before letting me go that short. I’m finally in control of my hair and my hair is one of my favorite things about myself. It’s an easy way to express myself.  
 Let kids do what they want with their hair! Let them have fun with their hair before they’re told to grow up and have ‘professional’ hair! 

My mom had a monopoly over my hair. Wouldn’t let me wear it natural, was obsessed with me having flyaways in the front and wouldn’t let me get out of the car in the mornings until they were flat, permed it when I was 10, wouldn’t let me cut it off for years after even though it was really damaged, vocally disapproved when I finally cut it as short as she’d let me.
When I moved out I stopped putting any heat in it and a few years later I cut it all off again. The second cut was my decision alone and it felt like a weight lifted off me, like no one could ever tell me what to do with it again or tell me “I needed it” to be pretty.



My stepfather and his stepfather forced a hair cut on me 10 years ago because they said i was too girly for their tastes.I grew my hair out ever since because ill never go fucking bald again like those two fucking neo nazis
                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        battlecrazed-axe-mage:

vigarath:

ayriath:

sensicalabsurdities:

miatasenpai:

island-delver-go:

8bitmickey:

tanoraqui:

threefeline:

creepsandcrawlers:

jelloapocalypse:

dastardlypineapple:

probablyottrpgideas:

strangestquarkwave:

professorsparklepants:

vigarath:
Size comparison of Y’gathok, the Ceaseless Hunger and Bjorn, our level 20 Goliath Barbarian.

Hey quick question: why the FUCK do you have that

Imagine, from out of nowhere, your dm casually slapping this thing down on the table like any other encounter.


“Yeah, the fight will start in a sec, uh…I’ll give inspiration to whomever helps me get this fucking box out of my car.”

https://www.reddit.com/r/DnD/comments/7asxci/oc_ygathok_the_ceaseless_hunger_final_boss_of_our/This is the reveal of this ridiculousness during their game

Please watch this reveal video it’s kickass

FUCK ME  the reveal video

“CHRIS??????” 


“Um, I don’t think our plan is gonna work.”


Always reblog Y'gathok

DM:*Pulls out Y’gothok* *Turns on “Open Your Heart” by Crush 40*


Wow that DM really goes above and beyond


Reblogging Ygathok because it’s been one year since we fought him!!!! It just popped up on my timeline today! 
Happy one year anniversary, our precious Old God boi!!!

One year ago today, this boy was revealed.
And for you guys, I have great news: I have the stats of Y’gathok complete and a general design for “how to use him” done. However, an adventure guide is incoming to teach you how to integrate him into any of your worlds!


Goddamn. That’s how you DM with style
: battlecrazed-axe-mage:

vigarath:

ayriath:

sensicalabsurdities:

miatasenpai:

island-delver-go:

8bitmickey:

tanoraqui:

threefeline:

creepsandcrawlers:

jelloapocalypse:

dastardlypineapple:

probablyottrpgideas:

strangestquarkwave:

professorsparklepants:

vigarath:
Size comparison of Y’gathok, the Ceaseless Hunger and Bjorn, our level 20 Goliath Barbarian.

Hey quick question: why the FUCK do you have that

Imagine, from out of nowhere, your dm casually slapping this thing down on the table like any other encounter.


“Yeah, the fight will start in a sec, uh…I’ll give inspiration to whomever helps me get this fucking box out of my car.”

https://www.reddit.com/r/DnD/comments/7asxci/oc_ygathok_the_ceaseless_hunger_final_boss_of_our/This is the reveal of this ridiculousness during their game

Please watch this reveal video it’s kickass

FUCK ME  the reveal video

“CHRIS??????” 


“Um, I don’t think our plan is gonna work.”


Always reblog Y'gathok

DM:*Pulls out Y’gothok* *Turns on “Open Your Heart” by Crush 40*


Wow that DM really goes above and beyond


Reblogging Ygathok because it’s been one year since we fought him!!!! It just popped up on my timeline today! 
Happy one year anniversary, our precious Old God boi!!!

One year ago today, this boy was revealed.
And for you guys, I have great news: I have the stats of Y’gathok complete and a general design for “how to use him” done. However, an adventure guide is incoming to teach you how to integrate him into any of your worlds!


Goddamn. That’s how you DM with style

        

            
            

                
                
                    battlecrazed-axe-mage:

vigarath:

ayriath:

sensicalabsurdities:

miatasenpai:

island-delver-go:

8bitmickey:

tanoraqui:

threefeline:

creepsandcrawlers:

jelloapocalypse:

dastardlypineapple:

probablyottrpgideas:

strangestquarkwave:

professorsparklepants:

vigarath:
Size comparison of Y’gathok, the Ceaseless Hunger and Bjorn, our level 20 Goliath Barbarian.

Hey quick question: why the FUCK do you have that

Imagine, from out of nowhere, your dm casually slapping this thing down on the table like any other encounter.


“Yeah, the fight will start in a sec, uh…I’ll give inspiration to whomever helps me get this fucking box out of my car.”

https://www.reddit.com/r/DnD/comments/7asxci/oc_ygathok_the_ceaseless_hunger_final_boss_of_our/This is the reveal of this ridiculousness during their game

Please watch this reveal video it’s kickass

FUCK ME  the reveal video

“CHRIS??????” 


“Um, I don’t think our plan is gonna work.”


Always reblog Y'gathok

DM:*Pulls out Y’gothok* *Turns on “Open Your Heart” by Crush 40*


Wow that DM really goes above and beyond


Reblogging Ygathok because it’s been one year since we fought him!!!! It just popped up on my timeline today! 
Happy one year anniversary, our precious Old God boi!!!

One year ago today, this boy was revealed.
And for you guys, I have great news: I have the stats of Y’gathok complete and a general design for “how to use him” done. However, an adventure guide is incoming to teach you how to integrate him into any of your worlds!


Goddamn. That’s how you DM with style
: battlecrazed-axe-mage:

vigarath:

ayriath:

sensicalabsurdities:

miatasenpai:

island-delver-go:

8bitmickey:

tanoraqui:

threefeline:

creepsandcrawlers:

jelloapocalypse:

dastardlypineapple:

probablyottrpgideas:

strangestquarkwave:

professorsparklepants:

vigarath:
Size comparison of Y’gathok, the Ceaseless Hunger and Bjorn, our level 20 Goliath Barbarian.

Hey quick question: why the FUCK do you have that

Imagine, from out of nowhere, your dm casually slapping this thing down on the table like any other encounter.


“Yeah, the fight will start in a sec, uh…I’ll give inspiration to whomever helps me get this fucking box out of my car.”

https://www.reddit.com/r/DnD/comments/7asxci/oc_ygathok_the_ceaseless_hunger_final_boss_of_our/This is the reveal of this ridiculousness during their game

Please watch this reveal video it’s kickass

FUCK ME  the reveal video

“CHRIS??????” 


“Um, I don’t think our plan is gonna work.”


Always reblog Y'gathok

DM:*Pulls out Y’gothok* *Turns on “Open Your Heart” by Crush 40*


Wow that DM really goes above and beyond


Reblogging Ygathok because it’s been one year since we fought him!!!! It just popped up on my timeline today! 
Happy one year anniversary, our precious Old God boi!!!

One year ago today, this boy was revealed.
And for you guys, I have great news: I have the stats of Y’gathok complete and a general design for “how to use him” done. However, an adventure guide is incoming to teach you how to integrate him into any of your worlds!


Goddamn. That’s how you DM with style

                    
                    

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
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