#but u kno what? it fucking is.

[pocket-mobster]

Jonathan Harker, a man who only yesterday was physically and mentally obliterated by paprika, is largely unphased by the locals being very clearly disapproving of his decision to visit his cool new friend, DRACULA.

#dracula daily #idk if this is what bram intended but i def read 'this is for your mother' as 'u kno what fuck u i hope u live u stupid piece of shit' #he has as much spice tolerance as he has basic intuition #jonathan harker #dracula #ipj speaks

[ribbittrobbit]

Hers was the domain of the coming of long days, of plenty Hers was the coming of the light of the sun, of clarity, discernment, judgment, justice. A goddess, she was of righteousness, and of the clarity and discernment to act with all the burning fury of the sun

#ankarna #hey im completely normal about this #(obviously a lie) #fantasy high junior year #fhjy spoilers #d20 fantasy high #fantasy high #dimension 20 #cassandra “thats my wife!!!!” #spoilers #d20 fanart #hey ive been possessed again #the visions are back so like... #u kno what's gonna happen #ribbittrobbit #also straight up i miss painting like damn no lineart goes hard #fuck lineart

[jinstronaut]

i still orbit you, and nothing’s changed, but if there’s no name to love, everything has changed. (cr. namuspromised, lyric translation doolsetbangtan)

happy birthday @cordiallyfuturedwight 💜💜💜

#bts #btsedit #btsgif #dailybts #btsdaily #jin #seokjin #kim seokjin #kim taehyung #jung hoseok #min yoongi #dailybangtan #userbangtan #userdimple #usersan #heyryen #userpat #tuserandi #raplineuser #annietrack #userkelli #usersky #*** #dont mind me reposting this bc tumblr hates me BUT HAPPY BIRHTDAY KAYLA !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! im typing this as im getting ready for work teehee #anyways hi ily idk how u feel abt this song but the vibe felt right and also um Look At Them u kno. esp hobi what the fuck hes so !!!!! OK #ANYWAYS THIS IS ABT YOU. and ILY !!!! idk what i did to deserve ur support and kindness and friendship but i am so thankful that you #decided you wanted to keep me around bc truly u are so amazing and i hold you so close to my heart. u are one of a kind. and im so lucky #to call you a friend. you are so important to me !!!! and i hope u have the best day ever !!!! you deserve it !!!!!! #OK I HAVE TO GO TO WORK ILY PLS I WILL GET BETTER AT SHOWING U HOW MUCH ILY I PROMISE ♥♥♥

[opens-up-4-nobody]

:-P

#what do ya kno. i did do something for barricade day #the 2nd is kinda fucked with the sleeve bc i frantically did this in like 2hrs #idk. this is just thr imagery abt enjolras that sticks with me. not so much the purity and martyrdom #but like the quiet passion and... idk how to describe it besides the capacity for terrible-ness #like the capacity of someone to boldly lead his friends to their death is terrifying when u take away the framing of a nobel cause #idk i just think hes neat. ya kno? #les miserables #les mis #enjolras #barricade day

[whilomm]

billie joe armstrong: "DO YOU KNOW THE ENEMY? DOYAKNO YOUR ENEMY WELL GOTTA KNOW THE ENEMY RAEH"

11 year old me, nodding: "tigerstar"

#buzzy #green day #listen i didnt know what politics are i just. heard that song and the only Enemies i could think of were like. in cartoons. #do u kno how long it took me to realize green day was politival #it didnt help that i could only hear half the words to their songs but it took until i. okay dont make fun of me for this #....until i hear a mashup of 'holiday' and a dr who song #and i was like. oh hey green day has political stuff. wow. #i was so fucking dumb jesus christ #i did not in fact Know The Enemy im sorry green day

[spotsupstuff]

as i'm workin on my Ancient stuff- i've got to say that it is really interesting and neat (read: nasty) that there's a good chance most of the Ancient population probably didn't actually wear masks. but We think they did cuz the only really solid evidence of what they looked like at all all comes from places of the higher social circles. and those strived for religious... superiority, i guess. brownie points, not actual dedication to the religion for the sake of its teachings but either because it made them look good, put them higher in the social hierarchy or whatever manipulation have you (or the flawed look upon the religion aka "we gotta get out of this cycle no matter what")

all we are left with are the bastards. the simple people and their cultures that were left to weather the Iterators' rains were simply washed away. nobody cared for their way of life- as long as it served the higher circles well and they stayed submissive (enough so that at the end everyone would take a dip in the void), nobody had to give a singular shit

just how much do we not know about the Ancients' *everything* because of this disregard? how much do we think we are right about, when such is true only for the small but privileged piece of the species?

#Spot says stuff #rw #which is why i -goes insane over oc lore again- #VIVA LA REVOLUCIÓN BAYBEEEEEE #this came to me cuz like. sparrows is very much a Bruh girl. shes a yeehaw if you know what i mean. shes kinda stumpy cuz she grew up in- #-the farms of Euros' facilities n had to haul things around. ancients from the iterator cities? or the ones on the murals? very much dont- #-look like that nah. theyre like twigs without any muscle to hold their bellies in some kinda form so they look like That. the masks- #-themselves originally became a thing for religious reasons. what reason would a farm girl have to wear a mask while workin in the fields? #yanno? it sounds mostly impractical. n down there they prolly werent such religious nutcases like the ''Higher Ones'' #sparrows' granda would have some choice words bout her havin a mask now JKVLDSMLKC he constantly complains about Euros cuz like #he remembers what it was like before Euros was turned on- man had an iterator rain free childhood n now he has to deal with This bullshit #''back in M'day we didnt hefta be runnin fro' some rain generated by an overgrown *Toaster*!!! we played in da grass for however long- #-we wished!!! sure aye it was standin there n overshadowin us from time to time but-" ''ya ya we kno granda settle down before u pull smth' #iterators r so fucking terrifying

[bi-functional]

Happy new year guys, if you weren’t thinking about the chaos of Bill having sparklers than im forcing you to think about it now <3

#happy new yeaaaarrrr #im alive #if anyone was wondering #or curious #doubt it #but still got atrong brain rot for these fucks #havent drawn stuff in a while!! #havent felt real and havent made any art that wasnt for school this past semester #dont really kno what happened tbh #but i had to do smthn!! #and i miss the mutuals i used to interact with #if u guys read these tags ever i love u and ive missed u #but yah seriously bill would go fucking crazy with sparklers #needs to be held and restrained like a child #he would set the shacks backyard on fire easily and on purpose #bi.f.art #bill cipher #gravity falls #human bill cipher #billdip #dipper pines #tswwwit’s familiar au #technically #idk how to feel about this tbh #not vry good but its alright #at least i made smthn #happy about that #hate hate hate the way dippers skin tone looks actually #but im not going to change it rip #fuck u colour theory

[equalseleventhirds]

what up besties sorry i haven't been online much but would u like to read the piece i wrote for my final for creative writing? it's metaporically about being trans n neurodivergent n disabled n ppl loving an idea of you more than you, but also it is about a zombie who comes back, not wrong, but not quite what anyone wanted..

(cw for death, electrocution, being buried (not quite alive), and complicated feelings about gender & name but that journey not being completed yet.)

- - -

Grave News

Amelia Marquez, 34, passed away in a tragic accident…

            Later, when anyone learns she woke up already buried, she can see the horror movie assumptions playing out behind their eyes. The thought of waking up, trapped in a tiny, dark, airless space, scrabbling at the walls, gasping for breath, the weight of the earth above pressing down, down, down…

            She smiles and accepts their pity, their horrified dismay, and does not tell them about lying awake, perfectly motionless, trying to figure out how to move. About how easy it is not to struggle for breath when pulling air into your lungs takes conscious effort. About pushing at different groups of muscles, her body twitching and twisting in the dark, until she works out forward, works out force, works out the flex of her hand as it pushes through velvet, then oak, then dirt, then dirt, then dirt.

            Amelia claws her way out of her own grave, not frantic, not berserk, but deliberate. Gradual. Almost mechanical, as she practices moving by repeating the same thing again and again, her patient hands working their way through wood, through earth, to the surface.

            (It isn't until later, standing in her parents' doorway and listening to the screams, that she realizes what ceaseless digging does to the human hand. She realizes that she somehow did not feel the pain as she dug. She realizes she needs to buy gloves.)

…the home she shared with her fiancé…

            Cole had been so certain about his repairs. Fifty bucks at Home Depot and a couple of days of work, and Amelia’s concerns brushed aside.

            “I’ve got this, Ames. Way better than hiring a contractor.” And she had agreed, had let him do it himself, had made dinner for a week while he spent his evenings messing with wires and fuses, assuring her that he was nearly done, that the video on YouTube made it so easy.

            Cole hadn’t been home when the lights went out, when Amelia went to the fuse box and tried to flip everything back on. When the jumble of wires in their walls shorted and flared and spread electricity through her body.

            When it killed her.

            Once her parents call, Cole drops everything to rush over. He falls to his knees in front of her, staring up into her face through a haze of tears and hope and shock.

            “You’re back. Ames, Amy, you’re back, how…”

            She stares down at her lap, making sure her hands are covered by the blanket her mother had nestled around her.

…a beautiful light in our lives, extinguished too soon. Her friends and family…

            Her memorial photo, the black clothes, the incense on the table, are all gone the morning after she comes back, packed away in boxes or thrown out in opaque garbage bags. Hands hesitate before touching her. They keep her at home, talking about rest, about recuperating.

            “Since you’ve been…” She sees the glances, the mouthed no, don’t say it. “…in your condition. It’s important to rest up.”

            It’s as though they think one wrong move, one wrong word, will kill her again.

            She wonders a little bit if they’re right.

            Her mother is the gentlest she’s ever been brushing Amelia’s hair, her hands careful, her voice filling the air. “And I unpacked some of your nice clothes,” she says, working through a tangle. “You don’t have to wear sweatpants anymore, I found your skirts…”

            Amelia looks down at her loose, comfortable clothes, the t-shirt worn and soft against her skin. She thinks about struggling with buttons on a nice blouse, thinks about whether ruffles will still itch the way they did when she was alive. Thinks about the way the mottled colors on her legs have lasted too long to be called bruises. Maybe she should call it decay.

            Her mother clicks her tongue sadly as a few strands of hair pull loose from her head. “These knots…”

            “What if I cut it?” Amelia asks. She’d been thinking about short hair back when she was alive. And it would be easier. “I can’t make you brush it for me every day.”

            Concern melds with distress on her mother’s face. “You can’t cut it,” she hisses. “What if it never grows back?”

...bright, funny, resilient, the first to volunteer...

            Once, she accidentally sleeps for three days. That’s the kind of thing the living joke about—so tired I could sleep for a week, as impossible as that would actually be. Turns out it’s easy for the dead—easy to lie still, easy to stop pushing, easy to drift away into forgiving darkness.

            She wakes to her mother weeping, her father pacing in the hall, Cole pale and haunted and clenching his phone in two hands. The funeral home’s phone number must be burned into the screen by now, but he hasn’t pressed the call button. Not yet.

            Amelia makes herself sit up in bed, reaches out to him, and sees him flinch.

            Right. Gloves.

            Even as she twists her face into a smile, she knows she's done it wrong. Her eyebrows are at odd angles, her lips curled strangely. She tries for light-hearted: "Whoops, close one! Don't want to wake up in a grave again."

            No one laughs.

...kept forever in our memories and our hearts...

            Late at night, she hears her parents whispering. “Is she all right?” her mother asks. “My little girl, my Amelia—she’s not acting like herself. She’s so tired, so...”

            “She just came back,” her father says. His voice is firm, comforting. Determined not to let any uncertainty slip through. The same voice he’s always used when her mother worries—the same voice he used when Amelia told him her own worries, her doubts about the future, about Cole. She always ended conversations with her father sure that he was right.

            “She’ll be back to herself soon enough,” he says. “We just have to keep her active. Remind her about being alive.”

            “But what if she’s not herself? I know we said not to bring up…” Her mother’s voice drops, furtive. “…the Z word…”

            “We’re keeping an eye on her. We’ll notice if she does anything that needs… intervention.”

            She closes her eyes. Wonders if she can turn off her hearing. Wonders if it would have been easier, staying in her grave.

            The next day, she brings up moving back in with Cole. He says he'd be happy to have her, and she pretends not to notice the look he exchanges with her parents.

…brought out the best in people, always ready to help, to listen…

            Cole is attentive. He brings her pastries from the bakery near their apartment and tells her about his day—work, his hobbies, a dog he saw at the park. Shows her pictures and videos on his phone. Mentions people by name, and she's not sure if they're new, since her death, or if she managed to forget people she knew about before.

            She knows which muscles to move for an understanding nod, an encouraging smile. She knows how to make herself chew and swallow food, how to bring it back up later so it doesn’t just sit and rot in her stomach. She still remembers the right way to ask questions so Cole shares more.

            There’s no real reason not to do it, but the more she thinks about it—the more she imagines forcing her body into the right place, the ordeal she’ll have to go through later—the less she wants to do it. She sits silently, pastries untouched, letting the muscles in her face go slack.

            “Ames? You okay?”

            It takes a second; she has to fill her lungs to respond. She tips one side of her mouth up in what could have been a reassuring smile, once. “Fine. Just tired.”

            He sits next to her, worry pinching between his eyebrows. "Of course. I'm sorry. Let's just sit here and watch TV? There are new episodes of all our favorites."

            The shows all feel distant, the plots blurred, the characters unfamiliar. She watches with him for hours anyway.

...a kind and giving spirit, she wanted to create...

            Shattering the mug isn't intentional. Even if she's started to resent the comforting cups of tea Cole brings her. Even if she's sick of pulling latex gloves over her cloth ones so she can wash the dishes. Even if the cutesy blobs of yellow and pink painted on it have always been too much, too bright, too false-forced-cheer, from the moment she was gifted it eight years ago.

            She still doesn't mean to let go of it, the muscles in her hand (and there are so many muscles in the human hand, so many to keep track of, and most of hers are damaged already) loosening and spasming as she's walking to the sink.

            The jagged pieces of it surround her, and Cole's hysterical babble of questions and assurances—"Are you okay, I've got it, just hold still"—fades into background noise as Amelia leans down to try and gather the shards.

            A hand wraps around her wrist and she turns to meet Cole's wide, frightened eyes. "Amy, your foot."

            A full inch of jagged ceramic is buried in her heel.

            She does not bleed, even after Cole pries it out.

...although she will never fulfill those plans, her dream will live on...

            "Ames, I'm worried." Cole reaches out, stops with his hand just over her thigh. Puts it down on the chair next to her, not touching. "This is... I know you've been through a lot. But you're acting like—"

            She turns her head until she can look at his face. Her neck jerks in the wrong direction a couple of times, but she's getting better at it, faster. "Like?"

            Cole's eyes are red, and can't quite meet hers. "Like..." His shoulders drop. "Not like yourself."

            He waits a beat—two—and gets up, breathing out harshly. "Ever since you came back, Amy. You barely look at me. You barely talk to me. You don't even like doing the things you used to like. I understand about your... condition, but..."        

...pray she rests well, and waits in peace for her loved ones...

            She sits in their apartment—Cole's apartment—long after he's gone, watching the afternoon sunlight shift across the space they used to share. Her books are still on the shelf. She remembers packing up her childhood bookshelf to bring to their new home. The painting she bought at a flea market is still hanging on the wall. She remembers joking with Cole about picking up a masterpiece for two dollars.

            Looking at them now, she doesn't even particularly want to bring them with her.

...invited to celebrate her life at...

            Merely dragging her body across the ground would be easier. But, even though she's wrong, even though she's not the person they think about when they look at her, she's still not a mindless, lurching zombie. Mostly.

            She walks. One step forward.

            Was she ever the person they thought about when they looked at her?

            One step.

            Maybe now she'll find out.

            One step.

...in lieu of flowers, the family asks...

            She settles into her seat on the train, making sure her hands are covered. A new start doesn't mean much if she sends an entire train into a panic.

            Someone sits next to her, bouncing in their seat. "Hey there! Looks like we've got eight hours ahead of us. What's your name?"

            She hesitates. Amelia. Amy. Ames.

"Mel," she says. It's strange in her mouth. Just slightly wrong, the same way she's just slightly wrong. Maybe that’s the right fit.

#algie writes things #what if u came back wrong but not evil just dealing with what it means to be dead but like in a disability way #and also u were transgender but hadn't figured it out yet #......something something society viewing ppl (trans disabled neurdivergent and more) as being 'stolen' or 'killed' #by theses aspects of our lives; as tho a 'normal' (per them) person WAS there but is no longer #but perhaps that 'normal' person never fucking was there #but circumstances make it more difficult to keep up the veneer of faking 'normality' #..........something. etc. u kno. #anyway! metaphors #but also i do love a zombie story so (shrug emoji)

[thefreshprinceofjunes]

𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦? 𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥? 𝘢𝘮 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘮 𝘪 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦?

soriku week 2023 day 7, dreaming/waking (unconscious/awakened, unreality/recompletion; another side, another story)

GOD IM OVER A WEEK LATE BUT W/E ITS DONE

i associate the song on the wing by owl city with soriku for some reason, and this is my attempt to explain why

definitely my most ambitious piece of artwork in literal years, esp considering i know next to nothing about composition/layout/typesetting/etc

its messy and rough and theres a million things that could/should be cleaned up, but i need to just it post already and stop messing with it before it disappears into my drafts forever bc of my OCD

♡ font ♡ heart bokeh texture ♡ twinkle texture ♡ comic template

and since this is by far the most planning ive done for a drawing in a loooooong time, im putting a bunch of process images under the cut (including the original SAI concept sketch i did way back in june):

#kingdom hearts #soriku week 2023 #sorikuweek2023 #soriku #sora kh #kh sora #riku kh #kh riku #kh3 #theres technically kh3/remind spoilers here if you squint #but its out of context so i dont think i need to tag it #ali's art #me: is purely a hobbyist when it comes to art and has no professional training/education #also me: u kno what. fuck it. soriku comic time #well. sort of a comic anyway #theres no consistency with rikus hair AS USUAL #i also redid the panel of rikus eyes like ten times as you can probably tell from the sketches #still not 100% happy with it but eh #kept the lyrics bubbles kind of messy bc its dreamlike. or at least thats my excuse anyway

[gralixe]

He won’t do gay stuff expect for money or to avoid wasting food

#yoshiden #denji #csm #csm manga #chainsaw man #chainsaw man manga #yoshida x denji #csm yoshida #my art #they might have yaoi hands I can’t help it man #I like drawing hands I think they should be bigger #u kno what human hands are tragically small we should ALL have yaoi hands #……..yeah Thats a take I’ll get behind fuck it #anyone reading these lol? #anyway trying screen tone out bc I’ve never liked digital coloring #maybe I’m just lazy and have never really taken the time to sit down and get good at it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ #I took two digital coloring classes and I’m still here tho so idfk

[redstrewn]

touchstarved menu art hits different

#i like to stare at it while listening to rock and metal #u kno like an insane person #also THIS IS A SHITTY EDIT I DIDNT RIP FROM THE ASSETS DONT COME FOR ME. LOOK AT THE TENTACLE LOOP ON THE RIGHT I AIRBRUSHED SO BADLY #hoping they officially release this logoless as bg because it goes so fucking hard #touchstarved game #also this made me realize leanders monster form's eyes are PURPOSEFULLY GLOWING like none of the other forms' eyes do that #WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH HIM

[bylertruther]

do you ever think about how will probably wishes he was braver?

that he could tell mike the truth about himself without having to speak in code. that he could stick to his guns when he's been wronged and stand up for himself rather than tucking tail and turning the other cheek. that he could be less shy, less sensitive, less cowardly, and maybe then his loved ones wouldn't forget about him as often as they do.

maybe then they would pick him first, rather than leaving him for last. maybe then they would want to hang out with him and hear what he has to say. maybe then they would treat him like they used to, like he can still take care of himself just like they can, instead of like a fragile little thing that they pick up only when they need him. maybe then they would care about him as much as he cares about them. maybe then he wouldn't doubt that it could all come crashing down once they know who he really is, and always has been, because the rest of him would've been enough.

like, maybe he wishes he didn't freeze or run away so much. maybe he wishes he wasn't so afraid all the time, of every little thing. that he could be brave like mike, el, or his mom. i mean, el's been through so much, too. why can't he be more like her? why does he have to hide behind her? he hides behind her when the monsters come crawling back, and he hides behind her when he can't bring himself to say what he really means—even after getting on her case about it.

he spent so much time on that painting. he didn't let anyone see it—it was that special to him. why couldn't he own up to that? there's no monster in the van with him; it's just him and mike and this painting of the party, nothing inherently incriminating or romantic, and still—he can't help himself. he retreats back into the shadow, shrinks into himself, and tells lie after lie to the person that he never lies to, that he knows doesn't fucking deserve that, just because he's too scared.

of course he'd feel like a mistake sometimes. of course he'd hate who he is (if That script is to be believed), when he can't even talk to the one person that would understand without lying straight to his face, over and over again, like a fucking hypocrite. of course he'd feel so lost without the person that tells him it's okay to be this way and shows him that there is indeed strength in it. of course he'd hate who he is when he's encouraging someone to be true and speaking about their courage, all while being incapable of taking his own advice, and giving the credit for all of his love and efforts and emotions to someone else.

so many people died to bring him back, so many people died just because he didn't stay dead when maybe he should have, and for what? so that he can continue to hide rather than live his life? so that he can turn into a "worse" version of himself? so that he can live in fear? so that he can continue to ache for a past that he can never return to, while everyone else moves forward and berates him for not doing the same? time stopped in the upside down when will went missing, and he's been stuck there ever since, too. too much has happened for him to move on from. too much has changed—he's changed. he's too different now, in every way, and the older he gets the more clear it becomes.

of course he'd feel like a mistake. of course he'd hate who he is. he's the common denominator here: in his loneliness and in this war. the boy who came back to life when others didn't. the boy that got possessed and couldn't fight it. the boy that turned into a liar and a coward and must learn to live with it, even if it's at his own expense. the boy that can't let go of the past and whom the past won't let go of either, because even after everything, he's still connected to this great evil that won't let him go. they got it out of him, and yet the tether remains, because of-fucking-course it would.

just—why? why him? why can't anything ever go right with him? why is he always the outlier? i think that overwhelming amount of fear, shame, grief, guilt, exhaustion, and loneliness would wear anyone down, let alone a teenager that never asked for any of it and has experiences so unfathomably unique that the only other people that could have possibly understood are literally dead.

#will byers #byler #mine #long post #will #anyway. this is how i always interpreted the i hate WHO i am line especially in conjunction with the word ''mistake'' + being different #within the context of EVERYTHING that's happened to will and continues to happen to him and how unique it is to him in this narrative #bc rly. if you were will.... wouldn't you feel like a mistake? even outside of that outside of the supernatural i'm speaking to my #friends that have ''Something Wrong'' with them. when something happens to you and you're not the same after and you're surrounded #by people who are able to move on and be normal—don't you ever have those moments where you feel like a mistake? when you're #growing up and still interested in your same old interests but your friends start moving on and then you see that they went back to #those interests in your absence—don't you feel like you were the problem then? when people are able to be brave and you can't #find it within yourself to overcome your fear—don't you hate that feeling? don't you feel that negativity towards yourself when you #know that you SHOULD do something but you can't bring yourself to and it works against yourself? like. everything that has happened #to will E V E R Y T H I N G !!!!!!!!!!!!! can easily make anyone no matter what part of him you relate to the most understand that #u kno wht i mean? anyway. i jus wanted to bring this up bc his life is a fucking tragedy even without the gay stuff n his current pov on th #and the way that That conversation always centers on fear and bravery it's like. obviously being gay is not easy in that era but i don't #think that line is ''i hate being gay'' with no factoring in of the great many things that have happened to him which alienate him further #as well as with how he does want mike to know and his alan turing poster and his talk with jonathan etc etc #his conflict has always centered around how other people treat him and his issue with that bc that's what makes him feel bad #that just because he's different that doesn't mean that he's Different and must be treated as such #he's different and has people that make him feel BETTER for it like look at s2 for example all of those talks abt using what he perceives #as a weakness abt himself as a strength that no one else can bring to the table. and in s3 when he still believed in being a nerd #and never getting girlfriends etc but when it came from mike thts when he called himself stupid n started down this path bc now #there's that sprinkle of doubt. n tht doubt is the scariest thing in the world—understandably so #also. he literally has an evil monster in his brain like bdkfjhsbkdjhfbskj IT'S JUST A LOT. #he is different for many reasons and has even more reasons to hate Who he is the kind of person that he is #jus my take 😁👍

[bright-and-burning]

annoyed posting sorry

#i feel borderline hungover for NO reason (definitely bc bad headache. giving me nausea .) #and ok so we have like three friends visiting #and my one friend just asked ‘so do people want to go into the city? or come out of the city’ #why would ppl visiting the city. w no cars. staying in hotels DOWNTOWN. want to go out into the fucking SUBURBSSSSS #‘yeah we’re in a major city w no car u kno what we should do. drive out to SWAMPSCOTT’ fuck OFFFFF #no offense to my friends who almost all live in the suburbs. #but it is near impossible to get to them without cars. AND THERES NOTHING TO DO! #or well. there are things to do. but why would we go thru the work of coordinating all that transport #when there are a million more things to do in the city.

[unusual-apprentice]

A DAY AS A UNUSUAL APPRENTICE ~

04.00/4am woke up, took my meds w a cup of coffee, stayed in bed smoking while watching a stream, played yakuza 0, tried to remember the last time i ate something but couldnt, watched batman, smoked, played nier, almost fell asleep in the afternoon but nah, talked to friends, tried to care about 100% some point n click puzzle games, smoked, dont remember, was angy bout my mic being fucked and the new headphones i ordered takes foreever to arrive, smoked, dont know

00.00/12am dont know, sleep would be nice tho

#my day today #weird aesthetic #joint #batman #girl blogger #what the fuck #life #weedlife #nobodys kitten #games u kno #care about me #leg tattoo #smoking in bed #arson #i would never #adult life #no job #it is what it is #sleep deprived af #unhealthy lifestyle #its okay #isolated #im going insane #u want anything?

[opens-up-4-nobody]

My fellow dyslexics: I've created a dyslexia symptom survey.

The survey can be found: HERE

Why have I done this? Becuase dyslexia is a spectrum disorder and different people have different symptoms. And I find it really interesting. And I like working with data.

People without reading issues are also welcome to participate!

I will look at the results after a month (march 5th, 2023) and make a judgment on if I have a big enough dataset to work with. If I get enough feedback, I will do a comprehensive report (maybe record a video walk through of the results).

Please share so that I can work with a large dataset :-]

#me: i dont have polls but i can survey the ppl #im just v curious what other ppl struggle with and i like doing stats coding lol #and making more work for myself for no reason #but idk i couldnt sleep so fuck it why not #please let me kno if u notice any issues #ive not made a survey before #dyslexia #dyslexia awareness #survey #have i designed a good survey? probably not bc i made it at 3am but well see #im also just curious how many ppl resond to these things #questionnaire

[wolfcat-hybrid]

Trying to do worldbuilding for a planet is very hard when you don't know anything about astronomy, physics, hard science in general, and haven't taken a math class in several years

I wanted the planet to be small but otherwise Earth-like but apparently a planet that small would not be dense enough to hold an atmosphere together unless it was real close to its sun and if I wanted it to be real close to its sun while still being habitable it'd have to be a red dwarf star and actually a planet that orbited a red dwarf star that close would probably be tidally locked and the colors would be all weird and wait, how old is the planet, what about the moon, fuck we gotta figure out the tectonic plates, how the fuck do THOSE work--

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..if this were a spec bio or sci-fi setting these would be interesting topics im sure. But I'm trying to put together a HIGH FANTASY SETTING. These guys wouldn't even appreciate the work I'm doing here!! In their setting the sun is a deity who handles LEGAL MATTERS they don't CARE ABOUT THISSSS

#the only reason any of this came up is because I wanted to figure out how big the continent was. which is fairly important #to figuring out travel distances and stuff. #and then i thought oh u kno whatd be fun. if in the setting theres only one continent. like if pangea 2 happened #and then i realized oh then the continents gonna have to be big or the planet has to be small #but a big continent doesnt WORK w the story so its a small planet #but it cant be TOO small or else ALL THE OCEANS WOULD EVAPORATE APPARENTLY!!!! OR THE SUN WOULD BE RED #or their wouldnt be a day-night cycle or. fuck the plants wojld be black or something #again this is an earth-like planet that evolved humans. its a high fantasy setting. #i want to give an astrophysics student like $20 and have them just do this for me #listen im a history major i can handle all the cool stuff. just tell me how big the fuckin planet is so i can calculate travel time. #please. #wolfy speaks #worldbuilding #planetbuilding #i guess. technically #i tried looking up worldbuilding resources for designing a planet but they all got into stuff ive never heard of. #sir im a history major. do i look like i know what the eccentricity of a rotation is or whatever #im a ding dong i need someone to give me ghe worlds simplest formula