yesterday at the game shop someone asked me when I started 3D printing. I told them a couple years ago, it was really easy to get into, sometimes I make things for commission, etc etc
then this person, this child, looked me square in the face and said "do you think it's too late for me to start? I'm almost 17..."
17
almost 17
ALMOST. SEVEN. TEEN.
when I tell you my soul left my body over this child, this mere not-even-17 year old, thinking they were already too old to start a new hobby, lemme tell you, I did not know how to respond
so i need yall to repeat after me
it is never too late to start a new hobby
it is never too late to start a new hobby!
it is never too late to start a new hobby!!
you wanna learn to crochet at 47? go off king! learn to paint at 69? nice! learn embroidery on your death bed?? it is literally never too late!! you don't even have to be good. it's absolutely wonderful to see people who are just ok or even bad at something doing that something unabashedly and at whatever age they happen to be
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IF ITS NOT TOO LATE!!!! HANDWRITING GAME!!!
transcription:
@poolboyatthevampyremansion
COREY I LOVE YOU (<- said in all caps because. um.) anyway. earlier I was looking for green sheets for my bed and it made me think of you. green lovers unite. also how are you?? xoxo ro catholicjinx
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Jason ends up in a fight in some town called Amity Park.
He's partnering up with the local hero called Phantom.
It's against some ghost called Skulker, and he and Phantom are hiding behind a building while they regroup and take a moment to catch their metaphorical breath.
"I don't see any civvies around. You?" Phantom whispers, head invisible as he looks around the corner.
"Guess it's just us dead tonight," Jason deadpans (hah), loading his gun and checking to make sure there's no damages that would impact his ability to fire it accurately.
Suddenly Phantom is there, looking intense and serious in a way he never was in that fight, glowing eyes staring through Jason.
Taking him in.
"No," Phantom sighs, leaning away from a very spooked Jason and going back to fiddling with a thermos. "You aren't dead. You're alive, undeniably and in a way most people aren't."
Before Jason can ask what the fuck that's supposed to mean, a laser blast almost catches him in the leg.
He shelved it; both his questions and the weird fuzzy feeling that felt like relief at someone else telling him he was alive.
It felt like a weird vindication, but he never got that feeling when anyone else tried to tell him he was alive.
He'd parse it later; there was an ass to kick.
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Happy Aromatic Awareness Week with the QPR ever!!
+ some bonus doodles i did over the week
2nd image is a redraw from madoka magica
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Ok, not only did Moon Dong Eun avenge the villains of this story. She found love afterwards and was able to pursue architecture like she always wanted to. She now dresses freely with her tattoo, proudly showing her scars. She's no longer confined to her trauma. Dong Eun got her revenge AND her happy ending!
Even though she was so convinced that she's a terrible person for wanting revenge, she actually managed to touch the lives of the people around her through simple acts of kindness (empathizing with them for being victims) and those same people came back to support her as well.
It's usually "revenge is bad" this "you got revenge but at what cost" that, but no, she got her revenge AND her and other people's happy ending. Even though it's a dark story about how victims suffer, there's always the underlying message of hope, where they also understand and help eachother. Even if they had to bend the rules to get it, The. Victims. Won. Oh. My. Goodness.
In the end, it wasn't exactly just "revenge," it was also about bringing justice to the victims.
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Still on my Ulder & Wyll bullshit but like
I keep thinking of Ulder Ravenguard, sending away his only son at seventeen, and years later hearing of a hero with a fine rapier and mismatched, kind eyes and manners from a storybook, and thinking, demanding surely not. that cannot be my son. my son is a devil's servant. it cannot be. i have no son.
and then after seven long years meeting Wyll again, at Wrym's Rock through a mindflayer's thrall, and feeling something like relief, not at seeing him but at this cold surety that this boy, this man, this hero of the frontiers could not be his son, because his son was not this tall and old and sure-footed, and did not have curling horns and a devil red eye, and the rumors must be wrong, and this Blade must be a stranger.
And then Wyll looks at him, with such kind eyes- his mother's eyes still, even devil-tainted- and calls him "father", and he knows, he knows, and his son is here, so much older and wearier and stronger, too, and he's a hero and a man and by gods he's a monster and by gods he's his son.
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i know the hunger games isnt about romance i know it isnt a love story but. theres just something so beautiful in the way peeta is the personification of what it means to heal and he /is/ the dandelion and the bread and the hope that things can be better even if they wont be fixed. even if the nightmares dont stop he will still hold her. wake her up and tell her shes alive. shes safe. and when its over and done and theres no more saving or protecting or trying their absolute hardest to die if it means keeping the other alive, the horrors dont stop. but katniss will still find that comfort in peetas arms.
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Fuck "yours truly". I'm yours FALSELY. Yours DECEPTIVELY. Yours UNFORTUNATELY
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nothing makes me want to slam my head onto a slab of concrete more than the thought of dean being oblivious towards his feelings for cas the entire show and only realizing how deeply in love he was when it was too late. like that is the most heartbreaking interpretation to me.
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