#I know more than you.
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aw that's cute spotify. but maybe save it for the professionals, yeah?
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American tankies who proclaim themselves as "communists" and haven't touched a history book since the age of 10 when an actually slavic person who is still dealing with the aftermath of colonization tells them the soviet union wasn't all so great and Joseph Stalin is not someone to be idolized (someone is saying bad things about their favourite glorious dictator and the only thing they can do about it is to make a post in their redfash social media echo-chamber):
#seeing lots of vile idolization of the USSR and russia lately#i'm enraged so i'm making fun of tankies#it is always morally correct#before you come at me; my entire family are victims of russification and we're still dealing with the colonization#don't you even DARE try to 'debate' me#i know more than you.#tankie punks fuck off#gif
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I love being a nerd with too much free time because when people start saying any main RVB character is under 35 I can pull out the painstakingly assembled color coded canon timeline. I only do it for this though. My hill
#There are people who think Washington is 25. He's been in the military for over 15 years. BARE MINIMUM he would be 33.#And that's not even 33 during season 6 and beyond#that's 33 when he JOINED PFL.#Which by Chorus was about a decade ago. In season 11 he is NO YOUNGER than 40.#Carolina is also canonically younger than him#I know more than you.#talk
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Apparently someone's been using my art on twitter to complain about how people portray Billy online
Cope+L+suck yer dah
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im the only bitch in this gym who has read all of the lore abt heimdall.
#bitchass bradly over here 'do you need help with technique?' i have been here longer than you.#i know more than you.#get away from me .#complaining on sideblog bc fuck this random white guy actually#'thats not too heavy for you??' i get it im a small afab asian . i get deadlift 100 in platforms who are you.#hei.txt
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i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.
adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.
right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.
it’s a lot of pressure, is what i’m saying.
still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and i’d win. EZPZ.
i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.
i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.
so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.
coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."
and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.
still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.
i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.
so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went
...oh.
and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.
so i did.
i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.
i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.
it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:
*ptooie.* "that all you got?"
i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!
but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.
my coach did not.
i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.
"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"
and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said
"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."
which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.
and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.
fine.
but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.
and then he left.
and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."
but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.
and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.
he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.
and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.
#whew boy this make me anxious just typing it#wrestling#middle school#the dread#i feel like i have to write some stories about my grandpa not being a dick#because he was actually an amazing grandpa#he just had a few goofs are very comedic moments#and you know if you're gonna have a goof making it comedic is a virtue in itself#he was there for me more than a lot of my classmates dads were#and i dont want that undervalued#yeah#babylon-lore
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alternatives for ai to design ocs
hero forge
picrew
the fucking sims 4
your local furry artist
bitmoji
shitty photoshoped collage
DeviantArt bases
zepeto
making edits of your favorite character
searching "dress up game" on the app store
learning how to draw
#anti ai#“but im an uwu soft bean and i don't know how to draw”#then learn?#you know you can create right you are capable of more than just “consuming”#im not saying you need to train to be the best artist in the world or that you need to pursue a future in the art industry#you don't need to be perfect you just need to try#that feeling of needing things done right now only works to alienate you from the labor behind the things you love
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White people are miserable, racist losers period. They’ve even been getting mad at Japanese people for correcting them about Yasuke as well.
#rambling#seen wp go ‘they’re mismembering their history is all-‘#as if they’d know more than the actual Japanese people#comments on ever post about yasuke are full of racist wp arguing with Japanese ppl and telling them that yasuke was a ‘nobody slave’#while Japanese ppl are just like ‘well anyway-‘ on their asses it’s kind of embarrassing#the guy is literally an historical figure bro#how are you mad that everyone from a country that you have such an unhealthy interest in isn’t as racist as you are??? that’s what it’s#giving#I’m sure there are lots of Japanese ppl being racist af too#since antiblackness is global and everyone has a problem with black people simply existing but#they hate us too but 😭#it’s just#expect full blown kkk bullshit as soon as a black character pokes their head out from around the curtain#antiblackness#I see white ppl cry about yasuke every other month man#or at least once a year on Twitter
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arcane ships be like
i love a show that teaches equality (😭😭😭)
#guys i don't actually ship jayvik but it was necessary for the reference#sorry for the quality btw i threw this together#timebomb#jayvik#caitvi#arcane#arcane spoilers#arcane season 2#EDIT: multiple people have pointed out that the labels i've used aren't the characters' real sexualities. and they're right#there's actually NO labels in runeterra so i shoulda said m/f m/m and f/f relationships#but you guys already gave this 13k notes so whatever bro#just know!!! they are more than whatever nathaniacolver post labels them as! :)
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WE'RE SO BACK
#tim drake#nightwing#dick grayson#hey this took under 7 hours to do and that was so much faster than the last attempt. that other tim drake one with cleaner lines took me#days to finish and i was coloring it like that one white boy with pulsing veins on his forehead. i was watching one video about how the#thing stopping you from creating is being too obsessed with perfectionism and this is true. we must go forward. GO FORTH. CREATE.#EMBRACE FLAWS AND ACCEPT THAT SOMETIMES IT MAY LOOK ASS. I wouldve been happier with more frames between it but it is a sunday.#M-F employed people you know that means no staying up til 3 am doing little projects because it will mess u up so bad. finished before 12
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why is religious Christmas imagery all so joyful and pleasant? where is the inherent horror of the birth of Christ? A mother is handed her newborn child, wailing and innocent. Her hands come away sticky. Red. Simply by giving her son life she has already killed him. He is doomed from the beginning. Her love will not save him from suffering. Because the thing cradled in her arms is not a baby, it is a sacrifice: born amongst the other bleating animals whose blood will one day be spilled in the name of what demands it. the night is silent with anticipation. Mary, did you know? That your womb was also a grave?
#instant conversation enders for my multiple youth pastor cousins#don’t say it (I’m gonna say it)#The Child is The Price#but i mean come on#as someone who isn't actually even christian the real-life historical version of this is still cursed as fuck#i mean we know that jesus was a person who existed. whatever circumstances he was born in#its terrifyingly ominous to imagine being so unaware of the affect your child will have on the future of humanity#time itself will one day be counted around your birth of him#and all because he will suffer an excruciatingly painful death that you will not be able to prevent#not only that. but regardless of his or your intentions#regardless of whether there is a god#for millenea unfathomable millions will have blood spilled and will spill blood in his name#atrocities will be committed that you cannot even conceive of#and all on his and your behalf#you love your child. its beautiful. but there's horror in what you've done. because everyone else will love him too#and what's more dangerous than that?
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because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.
you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.
you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.
don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.
if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.
you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:
how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!
aren't you happy yet?
#almost wrote the champagne line as ''effervescent'' but legit could not write it without saying ''effervescent like a snail''#ah tumblr...#writeblr#warm up#idk . having trouble writing rn#ps i don't like to talk about it . it is my medical information. but before you ask. yes this is about being on the spectrum#i really don't like when ppl make my writing about how im [whatever ID]. i want it to ring true for the people who it rings true for#i don't want it to be like ''awwwww look at this person!!! she's the EXCEPTION!!! :)" .....#no.... not really.....#idk something gross happens whenever i admit to certain conditions and i turn into like inspiration p*rnography#like yes they actually let us use keyboards these days#furthermore i just... dont feel comfortable talking about this part of me. i had too bad of a childhood. adhd is one thing...#this one im like. still coming to terms with. which is like. my own journey.#idk. just please be kind. some things are more private than others. this one feels private to me.#i do not know how to help others w/this . and i do not know how to help myself. i will talk about it if im ever ready. idk if that will#actually ever happen#ty in advance i love u im kissing you we are kissing somewhere on the spectrum
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“Walrus on your doorstop” this “fairy’s more unrealistic” that my professor just uttered the sentence “there was one day I found a real octopus in my backyard” this man hasn’t left Utah his entire life. How was there an octopus in his backyard in Utah. He then said “I do not have time to elaborate we need to cover a lot today in class” GIRL WHAT DO YOU MEEAN
#al speaks#we are fifteen minutes into class and still haven’t had any class cuz he was telling a story. wdym you don’t have time for the octopus story#stop class I want to know everything. I guess he would say he would be more surprised to see a fairy than a walrus#walrus or fairy
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just out of curiosity bc some people I know with glasses can just go a few hours or a day without them and be chill but I need them on all the time or I’ll go crazy
#I know this is just purely dependant on how disabled you are but like. making polls is fun#personally I don’t consider myself super badly nearsighted but like. if anything is literally more than a foot away from me it blurs#so going around without them would suck ass and probably give me a headache#sunny polls
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"I want more masc Ed" is pretty much word for word what izzy said, right after "I should have let the english kill you". so, yeah
#AM I WRONG.#ofmd#i swear if any of you say some dumb shit to me because of this#i know more than you.
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