#for those of you who make posts like this on the regular

[science-hoes]

It’s the Fourth of July. Everyone is at Jack’s house because he has a pool. In fact, Jack bought the house for the pool after his physical therapist told him that swimming was the easiest way to stay in shape after losing his foot. Now, it was a regular hangout spot for his friends and family.

Robby’s three oldest kids are swimming and jumping off the diving board with Jack’s twin boys. Their wives are dangling their feet in the water while Robby’s wife holds their newborn close to her chest, adjusting the floppy sunhat on the baby’s head.

Jack is manning the grill, carefully flipping hamburgers and hotdogs with one hand and holding a beer in the other. Robby stands next to him but keeps an anxious eye on the kids in the pool, sipping his own beer every now and then. That doesn’t stop him from backseat grilling though.

“Those burgers are done.”

“Are you trying to serve us charcoal?”

“We’re not dentists. We can’t fix our teeth if we break them on the food.”

Jack picks up a piece of burning charcoal with the tongs and chases Robby down until he’s far enough away from his grill. Their wives laugh and roll their eyes at their old men who still act like rowdy teenagers.

Robby holds his hands up in defense once he’s close to the edge of the pool with nowhere else to run. “I’m just trying to make sure we don’t end up in the Pitt.” He can’t help himself from joking.

Jack narrows his eyes, lip curling in disgust that his friend would be so condescending about his excelling grilling skills. “Hey, kids! Robby wants to play sharks and minnows with you.” He calls out to the children in the pool.

The air fills with cheerful shouts of “Dad’s coming to play!!” and “Come on, Uncle Robby!”

Robby shoots a glare at Jack, starting to pull off his t-shirt. “Fuck you.” He grumbles.

Jack raises a brow and points to the pool with the grilling tongs. “Stay the fuck away from my grill.” He retorts before taking a sip of his beer and returning to his post.

The afternoon passes with a pleasant slowness. Classic rock and respectable old country music blares from the speaker surrounding the pool. Robby plays pool games with the kids, making sure each one stays far enough away from the diving board when they jump.

Eventually, Jack joins them, slowly entering the poolside with the handicap railing. The water makes it easier for him to balance without his prosthetic, and he feels somewhat normal again. Standing without having to intentionally balance himself, without the squeeze of his prosthesis around his shin. He’s able to hold his boys in his arms without their added weight building pressure on his knee.

After everyone’s eyes are red from chlorine and fingers are pruned, Robby and Jack go to set up the haul of fireworks in the driveway while their wives dry off the kids.

“Are you sure about this?” Robby asks, a furrowed brow signaling his worry.

Jack smiles and nods. “Yep. Did just fine on New Year’s.” He assures his friend.

The two men call for their wives and children, opening the tailgates to their trucks in the driveway as seating. Robby places tiny noise cancelling headphones over his newborn’s head, pressing a kiss to her cheek and cradling her close to his chest. Jack takes a similar pair of headphones, the ones his wife bought him for Christmas, and pulls them over his ears.

The world becomes muffled, but he’s able to see everything. The way his twin boys laugh and sprint away from the fireworks after lighting them, red curls bouncing on their heads with each step. The way Robby’s daughters chase their brother and the twins with sparklers, their smiles so wide that their cheeks would ache later. The way everything around him glows in rainbows when the sparks fly, especially his wife’s pretty eyes when she looks up to him and gives him a sweet kiss.

No flashbacks. No phantom pain. No PTSD. No psychosis.

Just joyful memories with his friends and family that he doesn’t have to miss anymore.

[millermouth]

joel miller x you

not that anyone asked but here's a fluffy drabble because my social battery has been so low from a weekend of social shit that today I literally couldn't wait to leave and wished joel miller could come save me. gooooodnight. sometimes I write these little drabbles and never post cause idk they're not smutty or even interesting. but I just love picturing joel in my regular life. so yeah. here you go I guess! warnings: brief mention of hard relationship with extended family

It was exactly as your Aunt Kathy launched into her third, inexplicably detailed anecdote about her goldendoodle’s latest grooming fiasco that you felt the last flicker of your social battery sputter out and die. You’d seen it coming, the warning signs blinking dimly in the corners of your mind like a low fuel light you always swore you’d heed earlier next time: the long, barely-stifled sighs, the aching behind your eyes, the zoning out during conversations. You had tried, by God, you really did, to stretch it a little longer, to hold out for dessert or maybe just until Sarah got tired enough to want to leave too. But it always crept up the same way, that sensation of being entirely alone in a room full of fifteen people who had known you your whole life and still couldn’t seem to really see you. The same people who spoke over you with affection or obligation but never understanding.

You were already shrinking into the lawn chair, your elbows heavy on the plastic arms, your gaze unfocused and blank as your cousin’s husband droned on about his golf swing, when you felt the warm weight of a hand settle on your shoulder—the only hand in the world that made your shoulders loosen instead of stiffen. Joel had moved in beside you without a word, like a second sense had guided him from across the yard straight to you. The denim of his jeans brushed your bare arm and you tilted your head to rest the side of his leg, seeking him like shade on a sun-drenched afternoon. His hand drifted from your shoulder to the bottom of your neck, fingers parting the hair there, scratching slow and absent-minded. 

And then he pulled a little harder at the nape: You okay? It meant. How bad is it? Do you want out? Do you need me to be the bad guy and make an excuse? Because I will.

You tilted your face up to look at him. His cheeks were flushed red from running around the yard with Sarah and your nephew, his forehead damp with sweat, the neck of his t-shirt clinging faintly to his collarbone. There was a sheen on him that reminded you of something feral and sweet all at once. He was so sun-warmed and masculine, worn in and beer-laced breath with barbecue smoke woven into the threads of his shirt. Vaguely, your tired brain entertained the thought of what the salt on his skin would taste like if you had even a single ounce of energy to lean forward and lick it clean. But alas, you were running on fumes at this point, so instead, you just tilted your head up and looked at him. 

Get me out of here, you begged with your tired eyes.

His fingers kept grazing the base of your skull, and then, lazily, his long middle finger curled around to pinch your earlobe. You smiled, lips twitching upward in something involuntary and grateful. He caught it and sent one of those conspiratorial little winks down at you over the rim of his beer can. 

He turned only to scan the yard, “Hey, hon?” he called, eyes settling on Sarah as she trotted toward the garden with your nephew in tow. She glanced up at her dad, cheeks pink from the sun, braid coming loose, the whole day written across her in sweat and sugar.

“You ready to go?” 

Her face fell a little, a flicker of disappointment at the corners of her mouth. Before she could say anything, your mom swept in from the patio, asking if Sarah might stay a little longer for dessert, maybe keep the kiddo occupied. Sarah looked hopefully back at her dad, and Joel, bless him, sighed, already caving.

“Alright, but you help clean up if you stay,” he said with a soft point of his finger. “Deal?”

“Deal,” Sarah grinned.

“Why, you headin’ out already?” your mom asked, voice raised just enough for the rest of the family to turn and notice you both rising to leave.

Joel answered before you had to, holding your hand and pulling you out of the adirondack chair with a groan, “Think it’s about that time. Early wake-up.”

You nodded in agreement, offering your mom a tired, apologetic smile, and let yourself be folded into the leaving ritual. There were Tupperware containers shoved into your hands, leftovers you didn’t ask for but would be glad to eat tomorrow night in front of the TV. There were quick hugs, soft goodbyes, a kiss to the crown of your nephew’s curly head, and Sarah giving you a side-hug before Joel leaned down and kissed her cheek.

“I’ll come get ya in a bit.”

“Grandma said I could stay over,” she chirped back.

Joel raised a brow, eyes narrowed. “We’ll talk,” he said with a hint of amusement.

And then you were walking down the driveway a few minutes later, the summer heat still clinging to your skin and the sun low and honey thick behind the trees. Joel didn’t say much, but he stayed close, hand resting lightly against your back until you reached his truck. He opened the door for you and you climbed in slowly, arms full of food and mind heavy with fatigue. Instead of shutting the door on you, he leaned in against the door frame.

“Alright?” he murmured, eyes scanning your face. 

You looked up at him, all warm light and soft affection, the fading sky painting him in peach and pale blue. His silhouette was golden, haloed in evening light, and for one moment, he looked so stupidly beautiful it made your chest flutter. You reached up, ran your hand along his bearded jaw, thumb brushing the scratchy edge of his cheek.

“Better now,” you said with a small smile.

He grinned back and leaned down into the cab to press his mouth to yours. It was long and gentle, almost lazy in its heat. You sighed against him, drinking in the taste of beer and smell of charcoal, the quiet hum of safety he always seemed to carry with him. When he pulled back, there was a glint in his eye, something playful beneath the concern.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you faked bein’ on your last legs just to get me outta there.”

You smirked, still touching his face. “On the contrary, Miller. I was genuinely suffering. You just happen to be the only thing I can’t ever resist.”

His chest shook with quiet laughter, and he kissed you once more, quicker but no less affectionate, before finally closing the door and rounding to the driver’s side. He hauled himself in with a groan, the seat creaking beneath him.

“Let’s get you home. What’s on the docket tonight? Love Island?”

You hummed, head tilted against the window, already letting the starting hum of the engine soothe you. “I’m thinkin’ Titanic. In the mood to watch some rich people sink.”

He groaned lightly but nodded, already resigning himself. “Titanic sounds… great, baby.”

You shot him a sly look. “Wow. Must really love me to cave that easily.”

His eyes flicked toward you at the stop sign, the amber of the sunset caught in them.

“I sure do,” he said with a wide smile.

[sycamorality]

( @mellowbird9 @stardustcoral)

first of all sorry if i repeat myself anywhere here i just woke up and i am very very scattered

they've been SPLORIN!!!!! out and about everywhere! found a cool mountain and whoops theres a dragon...

their tools....... they may have more experience than the average player but they do not know mending is a thing. i'm sure they'll repair their tools... someday...

as for their armor they ARE wearing a turtle helmet! alongside a diamond chestplate, gold leggings and leather boots. it's utility!

and truly..... did the dragon respawn really fail?

( @just-a-little-unionoid )

goodness me holy essay length tags i feel honoured

there have been multiple mods with tameable dragons but the red dragon i think was the origin of most of them because it was something that was "gonna" be added but then never was (and we NEVER got ANY indev of it so i had the make its appearance the heck up), and yeah in all those mods you do hatch the egg. and yet our player has come into a situation in which a bugged dragon resummon.... seems to have done something else.

maybe they spend most of their splorin in the underground. or maybe they just like having one on hand. who knows. maybe we'll learn if we see them again

( @betweenlands )

they are simply strange i fear. experienced but in ways you wonder why they dont use other food. among other things

( @candlenav @vexcite )

the alignment is just accidental, but you can interpret it as intentional if you want...and game paused with no menu, f3+esc my favorite key combo

( @leopardmask-ao3 )

tripped a little down a mountain and took some damage that hasn't fully healed. too far away from home it seems...

( @serapheseraphim )

man yeah i LOVE the red dragon im so sad we never got it in the game. but its ok i can make it real if i want to. look at it

( @deathits3lf @tiny-minecraft-rabbit @wormnamedwax )

you gotta keep a lead in hand for when you need a dolphin when travelling in the ocean! they are looking for SOMETHING but that something was definently not a dragon... and be nice to their soups they have plenty more soups and beetroots in their inventory... they thought it was one of the endgame foods because they found beetroot seeds in the end cities. they also just don't like using f3 for coordinates

( @numbersninja )

yeah i love my contrast and blending of with old and new! but the only real blend of old in this piece is the dragon, our player is playing in a modern version where beetroot soups do infact exist

( @a-person-on-the-internet )

in my defense, it was 3am when i finished and posted this... the typos are not intentional and happened because i was up way over my regular bedtime (10/11pm. this is self imposed i have nothing that needs me to have this sleep schedule). if players return they'll probably keep the sameish hotbar though - they all have their own preferences! and wildfire114_ does Not like beetroot and thinks its stupid

( @morp )

i'm sure they could leash it if they wanted to

does anyone know what this is....? i thought it was just a glitched ender dragon that was constantly damaged (because i did respawn the dragon a few days ago but it failed it respawn and the portal was left open even after the summoning animation) but looking closer the colors just don't match up, and it doesn't seem to attack me either.. has this happened to anyone else before?

this is part of a series! come back later for an analysis and commentary thread, or check the analysis tag to see the most updated analysis thread!

[goodlucktai]

isn’t this silly and aren’t you beautiful

kpop demon hunters word count: 2k pairing: rumi & mira & zoey title borrowed from tsunami by told slant

read on ao3

x

When the song is over, Mira and Zoey are still holding Rumi’s hands. 

When they climb into their company car, a luxury sprinter with rear seats converted into sofas and enough room for a group triple the size of HUNTR/X to lounge comfortably, they’re still holding her hands. 

It shouldn’t feel like anything out of the ordinary. Any other night after any other show, the three of them giddy and giggly with something like runner’s high and dreaming out loud about hot showers and sleeping in until ten, Mira would swing her legs over Rumi’s lap, and Zoey would go boneless and flop her weight against Rumi’s side. 

They’d be talking over each other, Mira complaining about her heels as she kicked them off right there in the car, Zoey whining that Rumi ought to carry her to the elevator when they got home.  

And it never mattered how exhausted Rumi was—how sore her muscles were post-workout, how sweaty and frizzy and sticking to the back of her neck her hair was—she adored those crowded car rides. They made her feel normal, like any other stubborn woman who used to be a stubborn little girl, who knew intimately what it felt like to stay up late on school nights with friends that kept all your secrets like they were their own. 

In those moments, crushed under the weight of her favorite people in the world, Rumi’s secrets always felt small. 

So it shouldn’t be a surprise that Mira and Zoey are sticking close to her but it is. She keeps bracing for them to let go of her and they keep not letting go. 

“Everyone accounted for?” the driver asks from up front. “I stocked some juice in the mini fridge. Yes, it’s the gross salty kind. Electrolytes are important. You girls did a good job tonight.”

Do-Yoon has been their regular chauffeur since Bobby hired him five years ago. Like most of their team, he’s familiar enough with the singers that he doesn’t walk on eggshells around them the way starstruck new hires tend to, and they tease him by being overly-formal toward him instead.  

An hour ago, Rumi had convinced herself that she would never be loved again, let alone spoken to kindly. And now here Do-Yoon is, saying the same thing he always says, whether he’s bringing them home from a concert or a variety show or a meet-and-greet. No matter how big or small the stakes, he tells them they did well. 

His friendly, familiar tone is a comfort that completely sideswipes Rumi’s composure. Something in her chest wobbles a little. She prods it in the back and tells it to stand up straight. 

“Thank you, Mr. Do-Yoon,” Rumi says when she’s certain her voice won’t break. 

They pull away from the venue, the thunder of thousands of voices calling after the van resolving into a dull roar. The soft wash of lights that make it through the tinted windows darts over their joined hands as they turn onto the highway and pick up speed. 

Rumi’s right hand is lifted and turned over, palm-up. At this angle the patterns crawling down her arm are more obvious.

They aren’t the bruise-purple ones Rumi spent her whole life hiding, but every glimpse of them from the corner of her eye makes her stomach burn with learned shame in exactly the same way the old ones did. 

She’s trying not to hate them—she wants these patterns to mean something different. So far she isn’t doing a very good job.

Mira adjusts her grip so she’s able to brush her thumb over the inside of Rumi’s wrist, where an iridescent mark gleams like so many pearls. She does it over and over, an unthinking tenderness. 

It would surprise people to know how capable she is of being gentle. The polearm of their group, distant and proud, with sharp edges that put even her beautiful woldo to shame. Her father’s unwanted daughter and her mother’s disappointment and the sibling her older brother never told his friends about. At a glance, she looks about as sweet as a coiled snake. 

But Mira isn’t what her family made her to be—she’s what grew around them, stubbornly and spitefully reaching past their shadows for the light, the way trees grow around obstacles and flowers grow through concrete. 

She isn’t a soft person, but she’s good. No one ever managed to starve the goodness out of her. 

“Sorry,” Mira says abruptly. She says it again without lifting her eyes, “Sorry.” It’s no less surprising the second time.

“Sorry for what?” Rumi says, not following. 

“Oh?” Zoey pipes up. She’s been uncharacteristically quiet since they climbed into the car, and with a swoop of alarm, Rumi realizes why. Her voice is thick and wet and instantly gives away that she’s been crying. “It’s time? We’re saying it now? ‘Cause I’m sorry, too, Ru, I’m so sorry.”

“What do you—” Rumi tries to look at her, but Zoey has her cheek pressed to Rumi’s bare shoulder and she’s not budging. It’s impossible to see her face through her fringe so Rumi turns to Mira instead, uncomprehending. “What are you talking about? You don’t have anything to apologize for. I should apologize to you.”

“No,” Mira says shortly. Her mouth is a firm line, turned down at the edges, distinctly unhappy. 

Okay, well, Rumi thinks hysterically, get in line!

“Yes,” she argues. “I lied to you. I lied to you for years. I let you think—”

The shame grows and multiplies, that bone-deep certainty from earlier in the evening that she had lost everything she had ever loved making an unwanted reappearance. Her hands tighten involuntarily around Zoey’s and Mira’s, and the only thing stopping her heart from racing away without her is the way their hands squeeze back immediately. 

They are still, impossibly, remarkably, holding onto her. 

Rumi’s voice loses all strength, going out at the knees. 

“I let you think I was someone else,” she says, sounding pathetic to her own ears. “Someone good. I let you love a fake.”

Guilt shudders through her, echoed in the rainbow sheen that ripples like displaced water along the marks on her body. Reactive, uncontainable, ugly. 

Now Zoey is crying in earnest, and Mira’s grip on Rumi’s wrist tightens enough that the patterns there blanch until they almost disappear completely. 

“I keep thinking of the way you looked at us backstage after Takedown,” Zoey sobs, “how scared you looked, and we—and I—oh, Rumi. I wish I could go back, I’d throw my knives away and hug you and tell you I was on your side, like I should have done the first time. I’d protect you from every single bad thing that was going to happen. I’d never hurt you, never. I love you so much, I love you.”

Zoey’s pain has always wrenched it out of Rumi as easy as breathing, leaving her feeling every second of it as keenly as if it was her own. Zoey makes an upset sound when Rumi works her left arm free, but it’s only so she can wrap it around the younger woman and haul her even closer than she’s been this whole time. Zoey, historically, has never needed to be invited into her best friends’ personal space and climbs right into Rumi’s lap to put her arms around Rumi’s neck and cry noisily in her ear.

“I love you, too. Both of you. Don’t be sorry,” Rumi says, fiercely wishing that she could absorb all of Zoey’s misery like a sponge and free her from it forever. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“How can you say that?” Mira bites out. “I pointed a weapon at you. Like you were suddenly a stranger just because you had some marks.” She finally looks up, her eyes sharper than any moon blade, and says, “You’ve never been a stranger to me. Since the day we met, you’ve been—perfect.”

Rumi feels the word pierce her like an arrow. “I’m not.”

“You are,” Zoey mumbles, “‘cause you’re our Rumi.”

“Patterns and all,” Mira goes on loudly. “Bossy, stubborn, impatient, perfectionist and all. Even at your worst, I’d go to war for you any day of the week. Are you hearing me yet?” 

Unfortunately, Rumi hears every word. And it makes her want to shrivel up like some manner of creature small enough to live inside a shell, and at the same time, she wants to bask in it for hours like in one of the countless videos Zoey has saved on her phone of turtles floating in sunny ponds and napping under heat lamps. Since neither is an immediate option, she settles for sitting very still and breathing through it. 

They’re still holding her. Zoey has her tear-tacky face shoved into Rumi’s neck, and Mira is back to tracing a faint blue-green-pink line on Rumi’s wrist with the pad of her thumb. They’re still not letting go. 

“You just did what you thought was right,” Rumi says firmly. She draws strength from the truth of it, the core belief that Zoey and Mira are the best things in her life and have never done wrong by her. Even when they hurt her, it was only because they had all managed to hurt each other. “What you were taught was right. And I can imagine what it must have looked like—I was spiraling and putting distance between us, I was talking about working with demons, I was scaring you—I understand. I don’t want you to think I don’t understand. And you didn’t attack me, you weren’t cruel. You let me go.”

“Don’t get used to it, I’m never letting you go again,” Zoey says, charmingly mulish. She winds her limbs tighter around Rumi, to make it very clear that it is going to be a task and a half getting rid of her now. “Next time you have to go through something difficult or scary, we’re gonna be right there with you.”

“Top to bottom,” Mira adds, the hint of a smile finally entering her tone. “Stuck to you like velcro.”

“Oh,” Zoey says with some of her usual brightness, “write that down, text it to me.”

“You’re not writing a song based on a vulnerable conversation happening in the back of a van, I forbid it.”

From the driver’s seat, Do-Yoon politely chimes in to remind them of the electrolyte drinks in the mini fridge and makes a pointed comment about the importance of replenishing fluids after both exercise and crying. 

Zoey shrieks in surprise because she managed to forget that there was an entire fourth person in the car, and Mira dissolves into the raucous barking laughter that is beautiful to hear entirely because it’s hers. 

“We were all just doing what we were taught,” Mira says. She threads her fingers through Rumi’s and lets their joined hands rest together on her own thigh, since Rumi’s lap is occupied indefinitely. “Let’s learn something else together. Figure out a new way to live.” 

“But first carry me upstairs when we get home,” Zoey adds, entirely predictably. 

“You are such a brat,” Mira says, also predictably, her tone one of pure affection that hides behind a scoff. 

Rumi closes her eyes and listens to their voices rising and filling the car and sealing all the little cracks in her heart the way artisans repair broken pottery with gold. 

Beneath their hands, her worries feel small. She should have trusted their hands from the very beginning. 

She doesn’t say it out loud, because it would only enable their clingy youngest, but Rumi knows she would carry both of them anywhere. She rests her cheek against the top of Zoey’s head and squeezes Mira’s fingers and imagines her arms never getting tired. She dreams of never having a reason to let them go.  

[lost-seal]

We are Studying Ramb Again

I am once again putting his design under a microscope because something occurred to me while I was designing an AU. His face is so...strange. Now, we will be heavily discussing plug and outlet anatomy, so here is your last warning to take everything with a grain of salt.

Let's look at regular plugboys first.

Ignoring the cartoon-ish expression that comes with being spared, their faces generally fall under the shapes D= , =D , and o= . They fall under type B plugs. Fun Fact: these are found in Japan, Canada, Mexico, and USAmerica. Japan's and the latter's plug Type A & B are slightly different, which affects their compatibility.

"But the grounding hole (that circle under the lines) is way too round to match!" Well you see, this chart is not a hard and fast rule. They are a type of plug Type B called a NEMA 5-15 120 vac. Also known as a 3-prong 15A, 120 volt outlet. It is the most common type found in the homes of those countries as the grounding hole makes it safer than type A and its compatibility list is longer. Yes, type Bs are compatible with laptops.

Fun Fact: If Toriel was tech smart she'd have installed tamper-resistant outlets so that the kids didn't stick anything in them. This wouldn't affect any plugboys we know, because none of them are from the house. They're all from the library. Isn't it strange though, that the only plug character who shows up in the TV World, essentially Kris's house, is a power strip? You'd still need to plug Ramb into an outlet in order for him to be of any use.

Ramb... let's slowly ease into Ramb.

Ramb is a British power strip, which means he should be a Type G. They're found in the UK, Ireland, Cyprus, Malta, Malaysia, Singapore, and Hong Kong. They look like this:

I hope you can see the issue here.

Tye Gs also have over 100 more volts than Type Bs, so Type G plugs are generally considered stronger and the best plug in the world. (I think this is a matter of opinion though. For example, some people like the rotation that Type F provides more.) You'd probably need an adapter to get the most out of a Type G outlet if you don't live there. Same for the other way around.

Back to our boi, Ramb's mouth is. Well. The shape I can best describe it as is the Nike logo, which funny enough is supposed to represent the wings of the Greek goddess Nike. We cannot escape mentions of religion.

Now, here's the problem chat. If he doesn't look like a Type B or a Type G, what is he?

I don't know.

The curve of his mouth is technically possible though. Look at NEMA L6-20, NEMA L6-30, and NEMA L6-50.

Two vertical lines with a curve. That's all we need for a match.

Yet

I just

Couldn't

Find

One

No matter where

I looked.

We're now on day 2 of writing this. Now that we can all see that he doesn't match any sort of outlet, the next step is to figure out why. Is this some sort of Red Cross copyright issue? Can't find anything that implies it. That leaves me with two options.

Ramb has a construction defect

This idea came from my good friend @kayuripax while I was trying to wrap my head around this situation. It's possible that the machines in the factory messed up and the quality check didn't catch it. Neither did the people running the library. (Maybe it's just the outlet that makes up his face that's defected and the other outlets of the power strip are fine.)

2. Ramb had a malfunction and the plastic melted

Ramb being a British plug and being used in a place incompatible is a bad sign already. Sure, an adapter can be used, but that has never been mentioned yet. It'd be so easy to just misuse Ramb and it all goes wrong. Maybe they're just kept because of nostalgia.

Hold on post canceled what the-

If Eram could have connections to Ramb... And have connections to the amalgamates... Both Dump and Amalgam sound like EarthBound... Ramb's strange mouth... The way his left ear/piece of hair is so mismatched with the right side... Random Access Memory... Memory... Bad Memory... Sword Route shows a lot of that...taps into Kris's violent past (more like the affinity for it) Random Access Memory (Bad)... Listen, I'm spit balling here. I'm not gonna say he's some sort of Amalgamate. But it sure is. Strange.

[bishopmyrielfundraiser]

Due to offers and donations having stalled out, and the fact that I'm giving birth tomorrow (!) and will be unable to coordinate future posts, I'm shutting down the emergency fundraiser unless you're responding to an already posted offers. Which, please do, and feel free to run your own offers or make donations if this inspired you, and feel free to tag this blog if desired. Thank you to all those who participated.

The people imprisoned by ICE, whose number is increasing every day, still need help, including children who don't have access to clean water and adults with disabilities suffering from the lack of enough food. They need freedom.

I'll be back for the regular winter auction, which I'd ideally like to have a focus on reentry into society after imprisonment, a particularly fitting theme for this auction. But we will see where things are then. Meanwhile, find your local amis.

[laneboyheathens]

Melshian Fic Recs (1/?)

After some frustrations and negativity the other day, I wanted to highlight some fics by the amazing authors in our fan community. Real people who put their heart, soul and care into their creations, they deserve all the recognition, comments and kudos! I hope to make this a semi-regular occurrence as the ship tag steadily grows <3

Nowhere Left to Run - 7K M

I always enjoy @jiroxy 's mission fics, 'Nowhere Left' particularly has some excellent Cassian whump, with BAMF Melshi and some very tender comfort between the two of them. You should also check out their other fics while you're there!

I'll be looking at the moon(s), but I'll be seeing you - 6K M

A beautifully written Time Loop fic! Such a great concept that kept me guessing what the dynamic between them was right up until the end. A lovingly crafted portrait of these two characters <3

Stay the Course ‘til We're Out Of Time - 7K E 2/9 WIP

I've been really loving @crown-and-stallion 's fic so far, the first two chapters really are every head canon I love about Melshi and the relationship he has with Cassian is written with so much care. I can't wait so see where they take this next! Criminally underrated!

Resuscitation - 1.8K T

A continuation of @uwingmech's The Great Wide Sea in a Galaxy where humans can shapeshift. I adore how Cassian and Melshi's animal forms are a reflection of their characters, the nature of thought and emotion and the intensification of those when experienced through a pure animal brain. Sukie made me feel all of the emotions with this one and I adore her writing always <3

A Soft Place to Land - 3.9K M

Friends to lovers. Ten gorgeous vignettes of Cassian and Melshi and what their life looks like on Yavin. This one makes me a little weak at the knees.

863 Games - 9.9K T

Snapshots of life in the jungle yurt though the exploration of just some of their many, many, games of rianza. I felt so honoured to have @thevalleyisjolly gift this one to me, their fics are always so beautifully crafted and funny and emotionally wrecking all at once. I love how Cassian and Melshi look out for one another and get each other through the tough times while also being silly drunk menaces.

Subsection SergeantDroidCaptian

Curiosity - 2K E

Established Cassian/Melshi and K2 joins them. What an absolute delight this fic by @creature-song is! I wish to study K2 under a microscope like a bug (which is, consequently, how he is treating his data collection of Cassian and Melshi...). K2 being a menace, Cassian being a freak, Melshi just along for the ride. I LOVE this dynamic *nodding fervently*.

Living Arrangements 2K E

Established DroidCaptain working together to give Melshi a good time. Always a delight when @elwenyere cooks up something delicious for us and this fic is no exception! Kay once again being a menace, Cassian being a voyeur, Melshi's back pain being treated in an extremely dubious manner. HOT!

Subsection "And Breathe" - 139K G-M

Regularly scheduled yelling at you to read this incredible series. It's got RebelCaptian! It's got Melshian! It's got JynMelshian! The sixteenth instalment was just recently posted and if you haven't checked it out before you are in for one hell of a ride! Jyn, Cassian and Melshi's characterisations are everything to me and Taste_is_Sweet never fails to put me through the emotional wringer every single time <3

Now go forth and leave kudos and comments! I can't wait to see what you all create in the future! (and my dms are always open for if you need a personal cheerleader in your melshian fic endeavours!)

(I have tried to tag peoples tumblrs where I can, if you are on this list and not tagged let me know and I can edit the post)

[anim-ttrpgs]

I don’t think level-up mechanics are inherently bad, but yeah I think they really do not benefit a lot of the TTRPGs they’re in (even fewer video games they’re in, but usually for different reasons) for that reason (among other reasons but right now I’m talking about that reason). They set the expectation of play dark beyond what is reasonable, especially when your game has an engine but no fucking content.

It’s bad enough the benchmark to be a GM has to make their own adventures all the time, but their own whole multi-year campaigns? This is one of the reasons why those big campaign always fail, because the GM burns out. This exacerbates the other killer of big campaigns as well, scheduling issues, which can come at any time. If there are certain elements of a game which require a certain length of continuous play to see, then most people will not see them. That’s not inherently a bad thing, but it’s usually a bad thing if that is the majority of the game.

TSR D&D, which introduced the concept, didn’t have this problem near as much because it did not have any expectation that all characters in a party would be the same level, nor that they would be part of a continuous story with a consistent cast. So if your regular group couldn’t play then you could take your level 6 Fighter to another table and just keep playing him from level 6. Also, TSR D&D had huge amounts of published adventure modules so a DM did not have to do as much to create those environments in which PCs could be played.

Eureka doesn’t have leveling up because it doesn’t need it, it’s not a game about characters who make their career out of what they’re doing in gameplay and gradually get measurably better at it. It’s a game where a PC might very reasonably only get one crazy adventure under their belt ever, even if they survive it. They just aren’t very likely to want to go through that again, and even if they do, it takes place in a world where crazy adventures aren’t easy to come by.

Silk & Dagger doesn’t have leveling up for characters, but it does have palace upgrades. Silk & Dagger is too weird and experimental and early in its development for us to say it that actually works in its favor or not though at this time.

Death Bed is going to have relatively conventional AD&D-esque EXP, but with a twist intended to circumvent some of the issues with level-up mechanics that have been discussed in this post. EXP is used to “buy” character upgrades, but the majority of major character upgrades will be available from the start, able to be bought in any order.

Also, Death Bed will, ideally, have a lot of adventure modules to keep a campaign going without grinding a GM into paste, because good dungeon modules are easier to write than good mystery modules, and 50 years of at least semi-compatible dungeon modules already exist, where as 50 years of good mystery modules do not.

Was just thinking some more about Eureka by @anim-ttrpgs and one specific way in which I think it succeeds: while it has a plethora of character options and plenty of room for building characters it doesn't have a focus on "builds" the way in which a lot of TTRPGs do. When you create an investigator for Eureka you don't go in thinking "once my investigator has a couple of investigations under their belt they'll be able to do [some cool trick]." Because Eureka has no character advancement. You won't go in trying to get your character to hit some arbitrary numeric benchmarks in order for their build to "come online." The moment your character is in an investigation they are immediately operating at their peak performance.

This might seem contradictory, because like of course I do recognize that there is value in games where character building has a lot of moving parts and part of the fun is seeing a character develop into the best version they can be, but I think it's actually refreshing to be able to take an investigator to a game knowing that I will be getting the full experience of how that investigator operates without also having to sink a bunch of hours playing into that character.

Like, I love games which allow me to chart a character's course from level 1 to 10 and see them become their best self, but I also love to be able to take a multitude of characters into play and immediately see them perform their Thing without having to wait for them to "level up." And I think there is value there in thinking whether there is benefit in your own game in gating certain character options behind a "playwall" as it were. Do you want your players to be able to play with all your toys? Then let them. Don't make them wait until they've taken their character through an arbitrary number of sessions.

[pale-opal]

Hear Me Out:

I know that image and what I'm about to say has a chance of being incredibly niche, because I have no idea how much overlap there is between the Homestuck and Mega Man fandoms. But if there's anything I've learned from the internet, it's that no matter what fandom you're in, it's almost guaranteed that someone in said fandom has read Homestuck before. So I think someone out there will understand the rant I'm about to go on. But for everyone who hasn't read Homestuck before, here's a quick explanation: Homestuck is a webcomic that was written and published by a man named Andrew Hussie. It ran from 2009-2016. It follows the misadventures of four kids as they play a game called Sburb with the help of twelve other kids known as "trolls." Together, they go on a quest to complete the game, as the initiation of it has caused the world to end (so even if they wanted to quit, they couldn't. Whoops). It is currently available to read on mspaintadventures.com, however I do NOT recommend reading it if you are a minor, or if you have sensitivity to content that contains violence, strong language, etc. - There were also two (technically one?) epilogues produced afterward, as well as a sequel called "Homestuck^2". - The disclaimer above applies to those works as well.

Okay. Now that I've explained what Homestuck is, let's get into why I put these four Doctors in the squares that I did.

Dr. Cossack: Has read Homestuck, Knows What Homestuck Is - He just seems like the kind of man who casually knows a lot about a lot of things. - A "nerd," if you will. - I can see him reading this in college and subsequently getting totally invested. - He relates to John Egbert (one of the four kids I mentioned earlier) on a personal level. - He did not like the epilogues. - He likes Homestuck^2, though. Dr. Light: Has Read Homestuck, Doesn't Know What Homestuck Is - I imagine that Light was introduced to Homestuck through Cossack while they were in college. - Like, what if Light got sick at some point, and Cossack came over and showed him this random webcomic he found in an attempt to make him feel better, only for Light to wake up the next day, convinced the whole thing was a fever dream? - Cut to many years later, after the birth of Proto Man. - Light and Cossack are having a conversation on the phone: - Cossack: "Hey, Thomas. Do you remember Homestuck?" - Light: "...Homestuck?" - Cossack: "You know, that webcomic I showed you when you got the flu back in college?" - Light: "I'm not sure I-" - Cossack: "The one with the little gray people?" - Light: "Little gray- wait. Wait, that was real?!" - He has not read the epilogues or Homestuck^2. Dr. LaLinde: Has Not Read Homestuck, Knows What Homestuck Is - I think that Dr. Cossack would go on many coffee-fueled 2 a.m. rants to her during last-minute attempts to finish projects on time when the two of them were in college. - LaLinde would always listen respectfully, and as a result knows the entire lore behind Homestuck despite never reading it. - One day, she decided to give it a go. Here's how that went: - LaLinde: "Okay, let's see here- what? Eight thousand (8000) pages? Where am I going to find the time to read all of that?" - And so, she has to this day never read the darn thing. Dr. Wily: Has Not Read Homestuck, Does Not Know What Homestuck Is - The reasoning behind this is simple: he just couldn't get into it. - Dr. Cossack tried several times while they were in college to convince him to read it, but it sounded really convoluted to him. - Dr. Light tried to get him to read it before the whole "Dr. Wily becomes evil and takes over the world" thing after he remembered what it was. - That didn't work either. - Plus, the whole thing just seemed too long. - He eventually just forgot it existed once Light stopped trying to get him to read it. But here's something else about the Doctors: they all had kids. Kids who all grew up with different levels of parental involvement. Kids who would've probably heard their parents talk about this strange little webcomic at one time or another. Which brings me to my next point:

Blues: Has Read Homestuck, Knows What Homestuck Is - I imagine that he heard the aforementioned phone call between Light and Cossack, and asked Dr. Light about what they were talking about. - Light straight up tells him that he's not allowed to read it. - Blues accepts this. - Cut to Blues' life after he runs away from home. He's at the library. - He's also in the midst of his "I hate my dad" arc, and as a result is more than willing to go and read this comic Dr. Light told him was off-limits. - He spends a whole day reading the webcomic, its epilogues, and its sequel. - He is there from the time the library opens to the time it closes. - And once everything is said and done, he is a changed man. - His favorite character is Dave Strider. - He also used to like Dirk Strider and Jane Crocker, but then he read the epilogues. Bass: Has Read Homestuck, Doesn't Know What Homestuck is - Bass was just minding his business, until he finds Proto Man broke into his house... again. - I like to think Blues breaks into Wily Fortress sometimes, just because he can. As a treat. - And to visit any Wilybots he's friends with. - He goes to confront Blues, only to find him in the midst of his third reread of Homestuck. - He asks what he's doing. - Blues tells him to pull up a chair. - He starts the reread over so that Bass can understand what's going on. - Bass, too, ends up a changed man. Even if he has no idea what he just read. - His favorite character is Karkat Vantas. - He made a trollsona (basically a troll OC), but has never told a living soul about it. - Also, he will never admit it, but "[S] Game Over" messed him up on an emotional level (if you don't know what "[S] Game Over" is, don't worry about it. Don't look it up. It's okay. Just forget I said anything). Tempo: Has Not Read Homestuck, Knows What Homestuck Is - Quake Woman has not read Homestuck for the same reason her mother hasn't read it: She's simply too busy. - Blues tries to convince her to read it, though. - But here's the thing: Vesper Woman HAS read it... but she just thought it was just alright. This leads to conversation like this happening: - Vesper: "Don't listen to him, Tempo. It's okay at best." - Blues: "..." - Blues: "...would you like to elaborate on that?" - They get into arguments about different aspects of the plot a LOT. - Tempo just listens quietly while she works. - Out of curiosity, she ended up looking it up one day when she had free time, and ended up stumbling across Hiveswap instead. - Hiveswap is a spin-off game that takes place in Homestuck's universe. The first Act was released in 2017, and the second was released in 2020. - I will admit that I haven't played Hiveswap, so I'm not sure if the disclaimer I provided for Homestuck applies here. Kalinka Cossack: Has Never Read Homestuck, Does Not Know What Homestuck Is - My reasoning behind this is even more simple than Dr. Wily's: - Dr. Cossack does not let her know that Homestuck exists in an effort to keep her innocence in tact. - That's it. That's the reasoning. You can all go home n-. - ...wait. Is that ANOTHER image down there?

You see, there's one more set of characters that I want to discuss in this long, long post. Characters that wouldn't be influenced by their parents, meaning that whether or not they've read Homestuck would be more up to happenstance:

...I can explain.

Zero: Has Read Homestuck, Knows What Homestuck Is - Part of the reason I put him here is because he ended up being the opposite of what Wily wanted him to be. He wanted a ruthless killing machine, and instead he got someone who helps save the world on multiple occasions. So why not have him be the opposite of his creator in Homestuck knowledge as well? - (Although if you think about it, Zero is technically a ruthless killing machine, but that's not what we're here to talk about). - Another other part of the reasoning is that I thought it was funny. - Zero had trouble getting invested until Act 5. - After he reached that point, he was locked in. - He sees a little bit of himself in Rose Lalonde and Dirk Strider. - He has never read the epilogues, or the sequel. Once he saw the Snapchat bonus content, he thought that was it. - Zero successfully got Iris into the comic as well. - Her favorite character was also Rose. - I like to think he and Layer also became friends after realizing they were both Homestuck fans.

Axl: Has Read Homestuck, Doesn't Know What Homestuck Is - He found a dub of the series on YouTube on day while watching random videos. - He was invested almost immediately. - Axl would talk about it with the other Red Alert members a lot - especially to Red and Tornado. - But there was one problem: He didn't know the name of it. It just completely slipped his mind at one point, and he wasn't able to get it back. This led to stuff like this: - Axl: "And THEN John and his friends are losing to the Condescence, but-" - Red: "That's nice and all, but what's this webcomic you read called?" - Axl: "Uh... I dunno. I can't remember." - Red: "Are you sure you didn't just make it up?" - Axl: "Wha- Yes! Yes, I'm sure!" - Red: "...sure thing, little buddy." - After joining the Maverick Hunters, Axl casually brings up the plot of this comic he can't remember the name of. Zero soon says this: - Zero: "...are you talking about Homestuck?" - Axl: "That's what it's called?!" - He made a trollsona like Bass did, but is a lot less shy about sharing it. - His favorite character is Roxy Lalonde. - Axl got Palette into it as well. X: Has Not Read Homestuck, Knows What Homestuck Is - He heard Zero talk about it with Iris a lot, but it sounded a bit too violent for his tastes. - He did play the Pesterquest visual novel, though. - Yes, the disclaimer does apply for this visual novel. - I like to think that at some point in X7, X complains about Zero and Axl's interest in "overly violent media" and asks if Zero has started "corrupting the youth." - He is promptly told to shut up. - X is more open to the idea of reading Homestuck by the time X8 comes around though. But it isn't until Axl is recovering from the game's ending that he actually starts considering it, since he knows it'll make Axl happy. - Speaking of which: will Capcom ever give us X9? - I just want to know if Axl is really okay, or if Lumine messed him up somehow. - It's been almost 20 years since the game released. 20 years is a long time to leave part of a video game franchise on a cliffhanger (but then again, Mega Man Legends fans have been waiting for 24 years...) Sigma: Has Not Read Homestuck, Does Not Know What Homestuck Is - The reason Sigma is in this category is very easy to explain: - He deserves nothing that could give him any semblance of happiness. - Also, I hate him.

Alright, rant over.

The inspiration for this post, as well as the original template, can be found here.

...now you can all go home.

[ribbononline]

i just wanna say im truly obsessed with how you draw archie and maxie!! your art style is so soft and has so much personality, i keep going through your hardenshipping tag to just admire your art!! they’re so cute in your style <3

THANK YOU! I love those two so Very Much and they are going through my mind always. I really need to finish some more stuff with them again, I've just been sketching and sketching lately.

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

Hey, I don't normally make my own posts about this, but.

Do not argue with an anti on their own terms.

Don't get me wrong, I get it. You see the hypocrisy. You see the way they take aim at your favorite ships or characters or tropes while enjoying something similar. And you think "if I can point out to them just how hypocritical and idiotic they look right now, everyone will see our argument, they'll see that the anti is wrong and a hypocrite, and then maybe more people will stop harassing the people who like my thing. Maybe the anti will see the light and stop being a hypocrite."

But it will not work. It will not work.

There is an extremely high chance one of two things will occur:

They will double down on their argument, and ignore what you've said. (Ex. They might say "This relationship has an age gap. That's p3dophi1ia. That's dangerous." And you might say "well you ship something with the same age gap. Is it not p3dophi1ia and dangerous when you do it?" And they will just double down and say "This ship is dangerous. The shippers are grasping at straws to make their p3d0 ship normal.")

They will agree with you, but in the worst way possible. (Ex. Someone says "Ew your ship are basically siblings because they're childhood friends and grew up together. 1nc3st apologist." And you might respond "And yet we allow our most popular ship in this fandom to be popular? They grew up together as childhood friends and were inseparable. Why is that not inc3st?" because you think they'll gain a sense of perspective here. But then that person responds "People who ship that popular ship are freaks too then." Maybe they believed that before the convo or maybe they didn't, but the point now is that (while not your intention or fault by any means) some people have gone on to harass shippers of a ship that aren't doing anything wrong. What you think will bring clarity ends up raising tensions between shippers instead)

Do not meet them where they're at on their preconceived notions. You will not make them believe that they are wrong or hypocrites. Do not concede to their heavy assertions of abuse, p3dophi1ia, 1nc3st, etc levied against the thing you like for the sake of arguing that they are a hypocrite, or with intent to make them feel dumb for inadvertently labeling 80% of a fandom with said labels. They will not "see the light". The best thing you can do, if you have to say anything, is double down with "I'm not hurting anyone and it's fiction. I can do whatever I want" or "I don't give a shit what harmless things people like as long as it's tagged and I can filter out what I dislike" (especially if this is your stance). Then block and move on.

Antis, like trolls, thrive on engagement. They want you to argue so they can continue to point at you or lie about you or make you look bad.

It is in your best interest to pick your battles, and to try to sus out the difference between a friendly argument or standing up for yourself versus feeding the trolls. You won't make the right choice every time, all of us are human after all, but I promise you that ignoring and blocking bad faith actors, deleting their hate anons, etc, is not the coward's way out. Sometimes you don't need to fight. Sometimes keeping yourself from platforming bad faith actors and giving them nothing to go on will do the job (because there are more antis that are just small blogs with little power to do anything than you think, the kinds of people whose inflammatory posts will die if no one touches them).

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

[starboundsingularities]

I NEED TO BE OBNOXIOUS ABOUT HOW MUCH I LOVED THAT ACE ATTORNEY LAWBLR SIM YOU MADE BECAUSE OH MY GOD IT MADE ME LOSE MY SHIT. I definitely can tell you put genuine effort into making that silly little thang and I wish that it would have 10,000 notes like right this minute. Hellsite hall of fame if you’re reading this please reblog this person’s ace attorney lawblr sim because it deserves an award

i think this is one of the nicest asks i've ever gotten thank you so so much (I'M RAMBLING IN THE TAGS SO MUCH BTW. if you want insight into the thought process or anything)

[crow-talks-hockey]

yeah i'm eternally disturbed by the connor hate rn. coming from an avs, pens, oilers, canes, leafs, devils, canucks, and more fan. it wasn't rigged. and just because he helped design it does not mean it was automatically going to be him that won. anything can happen, anyone could have won that. he helped design it because he wanted to help make it fun. for the fans AND the players. and he did. him "making" it and winning it are not correlated. he tried hard, as did cale and a lot of others.

we should all know that connor is the best player in the world by now. maybe that's a factor too. makes sense. but you can't just hate him for that... he's a silly, sweet, personable person once you get over how much love broadcasts talk about him. he himself doesn't care for the media as much as we all do as fans. he's just as tired about being practically exalted as we are about him.

and yes, he is the best player. but you could argue nate is too. just because he's the best doesn't mean others are not incredibly close too. he is not perfect. he is human. he deserves a little more love in the real way. not the "great player amazing so good blah blah blah" way. the "he's humble and funny and so haunted by expectations i am kissing his forehead and giving him a hug" way.

tldr it's okay for the guy that actually made the push for the all star skills competition to be more fun to win it. it's not rigged. he just... won. no big deal. also the entire event was fun so do we really care who got an extra million dollars they didn't need? they had a good time and that's what matters.

(also yes i know a lot of the hate is a joke but still. i have a point here..) ((i am also a huge connor fan. so. tooootally not biased lmao))

[catboydan]

fiance got me a kindle for my birthday <3

[wholesomepostarchive]

6/13/2025

I'm one of the few people that genuinely LOVES working customer service (hotel receptionist here), like yes the occasional person is rude and entitled. But most of the time? People are kind, and funny, and will jump at the chance to share a bit of their lives with someone else.

The businessman that comes in every week who seemed grouchy at first now smiles and waves when I remember his name, and explains he's just finished a long drive, and he doesn't MEAN to come off as rude, he's just tired.

The mother and daughter who visit the hotel each summer and tell me they've been coming here for years, and each time they visit they go to the pier and save up their tickets for the big ticket items. One day they come through the doors with the biggest grins, the older lady in the wheelchair proudly waving a huge stuffed toy tiger she's "had her eye on for years".

The young man with his girlfriend who looks nervous as he approaches reception, and stumbles over his words, his hands shaking as he signs the paperwork to check in. I've spent the last two weeks on the phone with him organising this; we've set up the bedroom with balloons and petals and decorations, and he's going to propose as soon as they get to the room.

The woman who I've not seen before who asks if I'm local, and tells me she grew up here, and had recently found herself drawn back. We talk about the sounds of seagulls, and the metal clanging of masts down at the harbour, and how the sounds that fade into the background are the ones you miss most when you leave. She's writing a book and promises to send me a copy when she's done.

The regular who goes out of her way to buy us all the strangest biscuits she can find at the tourist shops. We try them together, pulling faces at the ones that just don't work.

The thirty something woman who immediately sees a kinship in me and whispers to me that she has been here before, but under a name she no longer uses, and we celebrate the freedom she feels.

The support group that comes in for coffee each week and sit together filling the foyer with laughter.

Every single person living their own wonderful complicated rich lives, and I get to be a part of that. How is that not beautiful?

[crystaltoa]

And now for something completely different.

This is the ADHD Teapot. I made it in a ceramics class a few years ago. I use it to explain executive dysfunction to people who haven’t come across the term before (and those who think of ADHD mostly as Hyperactive Eight Year Old Boy Syndrome).

So, most people’s brains are like a regular shaped teapot with a single spout. Let’s say that your time, energy, focus etc is the liquid you have in the teapot. Your executive function is the spout, that directs the tea into the specific cup you want to fill-aka the task that you’re meant to be doing. Spills happen occasionally, but generally most of the tea goes in the right cup.

If you have executive dysfunction, (a symptom of ADHD, trauma, autism, schizophrenia etc.) you have multiple spouts going in different directions. You can try pointing one of them at your chosen cup and you will probably get some liquid in there, perhaps you will even fill it right up (finish the task). But meanwhile, tea is also pouring out of several other places and not going where you want it. If you have another container nearby, perhaps some of it will end up in there. But quite a lot of it is going to end up on the floor and accomplish nothing.

And at the end of the day you’ll have filled one or two cups ( or sometimes not even one) compared to the five or six that somebody with the same sized teapot (but only one spout) has filled, and everyone wonders why you’re so bad at getting tea poured, and why you make such a mess in the process.

One day I’d like to spend more time learning pottery and create a really technically good fucked up little adhd teapot. But that’s a long way off since i currently live in the outback and the nearest pottery workshop is some 400km away. But I figure that for now, it might be a useful or interesting metaphor to somebody even in its rough draft form.

This post is the cup I filled instead of cleaning my house btw.