#feeling like a freak

[ink-the-artist]

whats wrong with my dog bruh 😂😭

[mismatchsocks]

“will graham is just a sad poor guy who was manipulated by hannibal lecter-“ BOOOOO!!!!! BORING!!!!!!! MY will graham enjoys KILLING and MAIMING because he’s a SICK FREAK

[the-crooked-library]

Nosferatu (2024) is unquestionably a multifaceted work, but what I personally consider to be the unifying idea behind its facets is that, for Ellen, Orlok represents validation.

Her fears are dismissed and called childish?.. He's a nightmarish manifestation of them.

She is consistently disrespected by everyone around her?.. He considers her his only equal. She never uses his title, it's permitted.

She is told to fix herself, misunderstood, and always isolated?.. He knows all the darkest parts of her and is delighted by them. He wants her just as she is, so much that he will lie, kill, and cross the ocean to find her.

The scene in their death/wedding bed is a direct parallel to the scene of her waking in that bed at the beginning of the film. She complains to Thomas that the "honeymoon is yet too short" and tries to pull him down with a kiss - however, he is worried about being late for work, and so he extricates himself and leaves. Cut forward to her sharing the same bed with Orlok, similarly early in the morning; he is startled by cock-crow and begins to rise, but she guides his head back down - and, even though he knows that he will die, he stays. He is her sexual and emotional desire, realized.

Given that there is a plethora of emotions Ellen is forced to suppress on daily basis, there is no singular correct interpretation of her relationship with Orlok. To erase any one of them is to render it shallower than it actually is; but there is no doubt as to why their attachment is mutual. To each, the other is something they’ve never had before.

[ricoka]

something kinda depressing about knowing that people never treat you like they do other people

[hinamie]

make it vicious, take a stab

[soapyakships]

"Let's be together..." okay girl.....

[randomloserlover]

cobs destroys mephone's objectsonas

[idontmindifuforgetme]

Once I was listening to a podcast and one of the hosts was like “the key to confidence isn’t never making mistakes and knowing everything, but making mistakes and being totally okay w the fact because everyone makes mistakes and it’s not a statement about your worth” and oh my god okay. My trauma bond w shame is dying a slow death.

[lilybug-02]

Fear both ways.

Bug Fact: Approximately 1-3% of all known insects and arachnids are actually harmful to humans, our plants, and our animals.

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Volume 2 Masterpost

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I animated two different versions. I wasn't able to import the first one (left) correctly because I animated it on Rough Animator, so I just decided to animate it again on Procreate (right). It turned out much easier to do the second time.

[obsmiechujek]

anyway hows your day been

[sleepis4theweak]

Inspired by my mom pulling the emergency call cord in the hospital because I got the hiccups when I was like a day old.

[muzsmocsing]

Still thinking about the time Liu Qingge eradicated a whole horde of stunning naked succubi with his combined raw power of homo and asexuality. Be who you are king.

[gothamite-rambler]

Tim: He lost the piercing, and I need to get him a new one because… I really don’t want to explain this in detail.

Duke and Stephanie sat on the other side of the table. Stephanie was chewing her burger, eagerly waiting for the next part of the story, while Duke sipped his smoothie.

Stephanie (mid-chew): I read Ice Planet Barbarians, and the Maple Series hasn’t released the third novel yet. I… need this!

Duke (bored): And I'm just here hanging around. I lived in Narrows, this isn't going to squick me out.

Tim sighed, blushing as he covered his forehead and stared at the table.

Tim (sheepishly): It feels really good when he... gives me fellatio.

Duke and Stephanie: Oh!

Stephanie: The sloppy toppy with the tongue ring!

Duke: Knob gobbling with the bling-bling!

Stephanie: He pleasures your schlong with-

Tim (interrupting, raising his voice): Stop!

Duke: We're just trying to understand. I’ve never received one or given one.

Stephanie (mischievous tone): And I don’t have a penis. Plus, we love making your face turn red.

Tim groaned, shooting a glare at his friends.

Tim: My point is I need to get a new ring for his tongue piercing, or I can’t focus tonight!

Stephanie: Then I think we can help you out, how about Hot Topic?

Duke: Spencer’s?

Stephanie: Both of them would get an infection if we go there. Pandora Piercing has some really cool barbell tongue rings.

Tim (enraged): Oh my God, why didn’t you say that earlier?!

Stephanie: Because your blushing is hilarious! And again, I have no spicy books to read… So, after that, we can shop for cock—

Tim quickly covered Stephanie’s mouth as Duke burst out laughing, munching on a fry.

[vaguely-concerned]

the strength it must have taken for illario to not immediately go full 'lmao since when have you even had a kiss hello lucanis' sibling violence mode during the café talk. inspirational. rook and lucanis really were doing all that right in front of his salad huh

[valeriapryanikova]

ominous

(itsy-bitsy fanfic concept/idea/? under the cut)

[A page ripped out of a journal; the owner’s handwriting is messy and barely legible.] 

february, 29th

i'm surprised i'm not dead now.

yesterday, in the late evening, as i was painting, it started storming. suddenly and hard. one second the dark sky is clear from any clouds, and the next moment the droplets are pelting me with a surprising force. i rapidly abandoned my easel and canvas (not like there would be anything lost—the piece was dull and not working out the way i desired) in favor of seeking cover.

i was still near the village, on its outskirts, but just a bit too far from my house to reach it quickly before my whole being was drenched through and through. so i ducked into one of the huts, all of which stand empty, desolate… or so i thought, at least.

only once inside did i spot the dim, ominous, red glow of the overhead lamp; the sound of a muted conversation; the overwhelming sense of “wrong”, like i was not meant to be here. abruptly silence fell and two sets of bright eyes stared me down.

terror froze my body. i felt like a prey caught in between two predators, i could practically feel their jaws snapping around my neck.

the dredger slowly smirked at me, barring her sharp, sharp teeth. (since when are they sharp? i may not have crossed path with her often, but i swear i would’ve noticed if she had shark teeth before.) i did not stay to see if the fisherman would further react to my presence too. the control of my body returned, allowing me to let out a panicked apology for interruption and bolt out of the hut, running home at full speed.

it’s been hours since then. i couldn’t fall asleep. i’ve been up the whole night, haunted by fear. the scene of those two beasts in the darkness, ready to snap me like a twig for overhearing something (i don’t remember what exactly, all the horror of the situation evaporated all my thoughts), got stuck in my mind’s eyes. so i’ve been doing what i know how to do best—painting.

[Attached to the diary entry is a typewritten note.] 

That painter fellow is an impressionable and imaginative type. Needless to say, the actual interaction with the two fish merchants was likely a lot less… Dramatic.

The painter was reluctant to show me the painting mentioned in the last paragraph, but after some convincing I did manage to take a quick look on their recollection of the witnessed scene: it seems mostly useless for my research, but I noted down some details that might be of use in the future (refer to “AudioLog#143” transcript for more information).

Collecting data on “The Fisherman” continues to prove itself annoying. The subject is allusive: there’s not many sources mentioning him, and folk around here rarely witness him out and about. Currently the only lead I have is finding that one old newspaper article about the docks that, if I recall correctly, mentions him in an interview with workers. Perhaps, when I have time, I’ll try asking the collector from the other side of the river if he has a copy of that newspaper issue.

However, for now, I’m significantly more interested in “The Dredger” subject. There’s more than plenty info about her—I would actually say there’s too much info about her, all inconveniently inconsistent. In an attempt to get more reliable data I’m getting in contact with Mined since they have done scientific observation of this area and the people of interest. My request for access to their data has gone unanswered so far and, if shoving my anthropology degree in the faces of those bumbling idiots won’t work, I’m sure that that city nearby has enough hackers willing to do some dirty work for a pretty diamond.

I will get the data I want, one way or another.

[evermorepeyton]

horrifying email to get at 2 am btw