#Not my story.
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filipina miku!! my mom helped me with her outfit ^_^
#THIS TOOK ME FOREVER RAAHHHH#i had help from my mom with stuff like the parts of the traje de mestiza which is the outfit shes wearing#this trend looks so much fun and i wanted to join in.. im first gen canadian though so ive never been to the philippines and only#know thru stories of my parents growing up. im proud of my heritage but there are some things i didnt grow up with that#make me feel disconnected from my culture. so it was nice to talk to my mom abt it and ask for her help with this :3#the pleated tapis is meant to resemble her skirt.. i had no way of adding her stockings but i noticed the piano key design#so i used that for the saya. the bandana is meant to resemble her hairties and shes wearing bakya wooden slippers with embroidery#i kinda wanted to add the panuelo to resemble her tie as a finishing touch but i forgor ;w; just imagine it i guess#my mom really likes this. shes a little confused abt the blue hair and i had to explain her hair is like that but she thinks shes pretty#originally i wanted her holding the woven pamaypay and fanning herself because ITS HOT ITS 25 FUCKING DEGREES TODAY#but i couldnt get the pose right so i settled for this. i wanna draw her and brazilian miku high fiving ill do that tmrw#my art#myart#hatsune miku#miku worldwide#philippines#vocaloid#miku
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my grandpa was a good man. and it really wasnt his fault - recreationally lying to kids is a proud family tradition - but he told me, once, that cutting a worm in half resulted in two worms.
i think he said it so i'd be more morally okay with fishing? i actually dont remember the context.
point was, he told me this, and he understimated (by a very large margin) how much i liked worms. i was a worm boy. very wormy. and after hearing that, i went home, and i dug through the garden, flipped over every rock, did everything i could to gather as many worms as i could, and then i uh.
i cut them all in half. every worm i could find. all of them. with scissors.
i then took this pile of split worms, and i put them in a box with a bit of lettuce and some water and stuff and went to bed expecting to double my worms overnight. i have math autism, so i had a vague understanding that if i did this just a few times in a row, i would eventually have a completely unreasonable amount of worms.
i was very excited to become this plane's worm emperor.
(i think i was...six?)
anyway, i did not become the inheritor of the worm crown. i instead woke up to a box of dead worms and cried. a lot. i got diagnosed with panic attacks as a teenager, but i think i had them as a kid, i just had no idea what they were. i was kind of processing that a.) i had killed what i had assumed was every single worm in my yard, and thus would have no more worms, and b). i was going to like, worm hell.
(six year babylon spent a lot of time worrying about god.)
so i kind of freaked out, and i climbed a tree, because god can only smite you if you're touching the ground (?) and i sat up there mostly inconsolable until my mom came out and asked, hey, what's up? what happened?
so i explained to her that i had killed all of the worms, forever, and was also Damned, and she took me to the compost pile, and we dug for all of five seconds and found like twenty more worms.
the compost pile was full of worms.
she then told me that a). there were more worms, and we could put them back under rocks and stuff and recolonize our yard and b). that one day, i would die, and go to heaven, and be able to talk to the worms face to face. that i'd be able to tell them all that i was very sorry, and that i killed them on accident, driven only by excessive Love, and that she was positive they would forgive me because worms have six hearts and no malice.
at that point, i think i was sixty percent tear-snot by weight, and i had no choice but to gather enough worms that i could hug them. which my mom helped with. and then after that she helped me put some worms back under each rock.
and for my epilogue: i spent a significant portion of my childhood in trees. and for many years after, even when my mom didnt know i was watching, i would catch her giving the space under the rocks a light spritz with the hose. not because she loved worms.
but because she loved me.
#anecdotes#memories#worms#moms#the hazards of recreationally lying to children#dont treat my grandpa too harsh#story time#stories#babylon#animal death#religion
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#writing#writers on tumblr#writing prompt#writers#writer#my writing#daily writing prompt#daily writing#story#writing tool#write it
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take responsibility
#my art#mouthwashing#anya mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing#swansea mouthwashing#curly mouthwashing#jimmy mouthwashing#this game got me real good. what a bleak fucking story but it will stay with me for a long time
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An adaptation of Sherlock Holmes set in a world in which the fictional character/literary juggernaut Sherlock Holmes, and all the subsequent adaptations thereof, still exist.
Sherlock Holmes (pronounced Holl-mess, as he is constantly reminding people) just had the misfortune of having parents who really liked the books, and his attitude towards his fictional counterpart is pretty much the same as that of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
Sherlock runs a Youtube Theory channel called Mysteries Unwrapped with Sherlock Holmes. He has received no less than seven cease and desist letters from the Conan Doyle estate, all of which he has so faded managed to rebuff by pointing out that that's literally his name.
(No he won't change his name. He's Sherlock Holmes the real live human person. Let Sherlock Holmes the non existent fictional character change his name.)
John is Sherlock's flatmate. Sherlock almost refused to live with him once he realised that it would mean staying with a medical student named John, and only gave in once John pointed out that: a) he's a biomedical student, which is completely different from an md, and b) his surname isn't Watson.
It's now been three years, which is long enough for them to have developed a genuine friendship, and for John to have a) started working towards his PhD in biotechnology, and b) for him to start dating somebody with the surname Watson.
Sherlock can feel the narrative closing in.
His Youtube channel is meant to be focused on lost media, fan theories and stuff like that, but he keeps accidentally stumbling upon and then solving genuine crimes.
His brother Mycroft may or may not have chosen that name after he transitions specifically to annoy him.
He doesn't even live in London, but somehow the only flat they could afford was on a street named fucking Baker Street.
Sherlock Holmes and the Unescapable Power of the Narrative.
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Some spins on the "mostly male team with a token woman" trope:
The woman is trans and stayed in her old circle of bros even after transition
The woman is the only one in her circle of "girls" who didn't turn out to be a trans man
#of course even in that case i'd still make plenty of other characters female OUTSIDE the main team#there's a they wolf in my closet#gender#transgender#trans#lgbtq+#queer#story ideas#writing prompts
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I could think of no better way to share the news than this!
So when I was 17, my cat went missing and I'd given up hope of ever seeing him again.
Until on Monday, 27th of May, 2024, my friend sent me a FB post asking 'isn't that your mother?' about the person named on the microchip.
Here he is! 16 years old, and found safe, twelve whole years after he went missing!
Yesterday (Tuesday the 28th of May, 2024) I went to the rescue that had him, and I reclaimed my boy, renaming him Artie! (He'd originally been called 'Cat' because my mother and I couldn't decide on a name)
He's home safe with me now, currently inhabiting my bathroom and purring up a storm every time someone goes in there!
I'll be doing slow introductions between him and my current cat to give them the best possible chance of living in harmony!
Here's some pictures of Artie once we let him out of the carrier:
#personal#okay to reblog#my cat#cat people#honestly i can't believe this#like it happened to me and it still feels so fanciful and unreal#like something out of a children's story book or something#he's such a good boy!#he purrs like a motorbike and loves his brushy!!!#edited to add the flag because terfs found this post#people that hate my existence don't get to celebrate my cat
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Apparently the local university’s undergraduate entomology course sends students to catch insect specimens at the same place I like to go birdwatching, which explains why I saw three enormous frat looking dudes with tiny bug nets and overheard one emphatically say “bro BRO I told you we already have enough lepidopterans”
#I told my brother (in the ag field) this and he said ‘oh those are definitely turf bros’#apparently entomology is a required course if you want to specialize in golf course management which I guess is a career that some desire#and there is some Westside story type beef between the turf bros taking entomology for pest control reasons and future PHDs who love bugs#actually chatted with them later they were very lovely
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Here’s my take on the whole audio books vs. reading:
Oral tradition of storytelling predates written ones by millennias, and honestly, which one you like is just a personal preference.
The actual difference is
when listening, you have no idea how to write characters’ names
when reading, you have no idea how to pronounce characters’ names
hope this helps!
#audio books vs reading#honestly this debate is just pineapple on pizza again#personally i like reading better#i’m a poor listener and since i read faster than people talk i get bored and my mind starts to wander#but who gives a shit#just do what works best for you#in the end we all get the same story#oh and this post is about stories in english#in finnish you rarely have either problem
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as a child there's nothing cooler than a kid who gets subjected to evil experiments and gains special abilities. it's even cooler if these abilities also cause unfathomable suffering to use/against others. children love stories like this.
#I'm talking about max ride flatmate is watching spy x family#reminiscing on my multiple stories and ocs about this like truly#I think this might not be as universal as i think but if you liked max ride it probably was. my main oc as a tiny child was#a girl who grew up to be an unethical scientist who loved experimenting on humans and children. she could turn into a flying purple wolf bt#maximum ride
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License to Kitty.
#dungeon meshi#izutsumi#marcille donato#chilchuk tims#I still stand by my tags on the Izutsumi character study piece I did in January - but I will repeat myself on a few lines here:#I *really* love this character. I love that all of the dungeon meshi crew are complicated and have difficult to love components.#But Izutsumi is a particular kind of hard to love. I foresee a lot of people being turned off by her abrasiveness and lack of teamwork.#She is very self-centered and openly goes against what the party agrees on.#She's a picky eater in a story that is 50% about eating good and healthy food!#It is in part about her growth but admittedly even *then* she remains rather true to her self-centeredness.#Even though she isn't as nice or funny or compassionate as the others...Izutsumi is still someone worth loving.#Even the more difficult people are someone worth loving.#And those people in turn are people who have something and someone they love.#She may be a girlcat but she is the most human of them all.#I hope that if you are an anime only watcher and are feeling put off by her at the moment; you'll give her a chance.#By the way: *yes* I worked very hard to draw that skateboard pose. It was worth it.#EDIT: HAPPY 500th POST OF POORLY-DRAW-MDZS!!! What a comic to commemorate the milestone with!
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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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the woman who holds the moon
prints available here. my cover for this month's issue of baffling magazine.
#i can finally share this piece!#this cover was based on a short story called “moon bearer” by celia daniels that features on this issue of the magazine#the character designs are mine#also there's a sale on inprnt again so my prints are cheaper than usual!#illustration#artists on tumblr#illo#lesbian#wlw#sapphic#lesbian art#wlw art#sapphic art#queer art#baffling magazine#blue#moon#night sky#queer fantasy
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"Who Is Superman? A Private Interview with Lois Lane" a fancomic about hope and connection. I've had this story in mind for so long and I'm very excited to be able to share it at last. Thank you for reading, and happy Lunar New Year!
#superman#clark kent#lois lane#clois#dc comics#my art#fancomic#long post#my immigrant clois love story agenda is HERE#I have big feelings over the superman private interview canon event- how differently an asian lois would make that scene play out#jl remix
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