#its so stupid and dumb and shouldn't exist

[hotchocolateboy]

i think part of the reason the tcb kickstarter does not have the numbers that a project like this usually would is simply people are broke as shit. for the people that live in the us, the financial shitshow that is living is only getting worse with student loans coming back into place and medical care costing what it does, and international people who want to give but can't because of travel reasons and all the other things that go into that (im from the us and stupid i dunno), its a really difficult situation. i'm privleged enough to be able to afford one of the middle tiers of the kickstarter, but that's just because i still live at home and have spent all my time for the past month taking as many shifts as possibl to try to save to move out, which has given me some wiggle room for spending. but that's not everyone's case. obviously this is not tcb's fault, but i do think this might feed into why they are not currently on track for meeting the goal.

tldr money is stupid and nobody has it right now and that means the rich keep getting richer and art is suffering because of it

[emositecc]

God I fucking hate Victoria the crybaby so fucking much holy shit. Holy shit, every page she's in, every scene, every fanart, every comic, she's got this painfully vacant, stupid as shit, fuckass personality on her stupid green face. Absolutely no part of her ugly as sin piece of shit character design is endearing. Her stupid fucking dress? Who the hell wears a dress like that. Her dumb fucking lizard tail? Her shitty, annoying bastard attitude ? The three thousand percent dumbass shitass fucking haircut that no woman has EVER FUCKING SHITTY HAIR DESING HAD IN THE HISTORY OF GOD'S GREEN FUCKING EARTH? God, I hate her. I hate her so much. So FUCKING much. Every time I see a comic or a fanart of her, it ignites my primal rage response and I'm overcome by the need to punt this shitty little homunculus into the fucking sun. "Boo hoo, I'm Bitchtoria the fuckshit whiny ass woman, woe is me. PITY ME 😢😢😢😢". Fuck you. Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you. You look like shrek but if shrek was written by vivziepop. Your dumb fucking hair makes your whole shitty head look like a hairy skin tag. I hate your dumb fucking dress and your stupid, empty googly eyes and your over-the-top shitty ass upbeat asshole personality. Any scene she's sad it invokes all the wrath and fury of a spoiled child having a meltdown over a chocolate bar in a walmart checkout line. And I know its irrational. That's the worst part. I know she's just a shitty fucking sad woman in a stupid fucking fan comic, I know it doesn't matter, I know I shouldn't care. But that's part of the problem. The part where no matter the might and fury of my hatred, the locus of my homicidal intent is alltogether inconsequential. I find myself laying awake in the dark in the early hours of the morning consumed by the spirit of Wrath itself, all the force and might of a flaming hurricane directed at a bottle of piss in a ditch by the highway. The absurdity of it all burns me to my core. What better things could this energy be directed towards? And yet my disdain for this stupid, useless, insubstantial failure of endearing character design utterly eclipses the intrigue of all other pursuits. I hate her. I hate hier on a level of my mind reserved for the worst of the world's array of sinners, and I can't even begin to justify it. Shitstick the bitch wife is, for all intents and purposes, the animated corpse of all of humanity's saccharine pretenses- every condescending, passive-aggressive statement of meaningless upper middle class suburban drama distilled into a single, hateable form. The fucking. Fuck. I have no words. There is no cuss or epithet in any language that can encapsulate the height of the emotions I am experiencing. God, I hate her so much. I hate her so, so fucking much. I want to light her ugly little dumpster body on fire. I want to graphically beat her to death with her own stupid fucking punchable face. I want to punch her to death. I want to bash her brains out. You know that weird feeling you get, when you see a picture of something so cute you find yourself overcome with the bizarre, inexplicable urge to squeeze it? It's EXACTLY like that, except instead of cuteness it's disgust. The wordless knowledge that her existence as a fictional work is evidence of all the failures of mankind. I find myself possessed by the will of a Holy Angel gone rogue with the belief that God has made a mistake, and I alone must correct it. This is the trial by which Samael himself fell from grace. This wild, meaningless rage. A thousand blades of shining steel cast with inhuman force in the direction of a plastic grocery bag floating on a breeze. What horrors must I have committed in a past life to be plagued by this torment now? I must Unmake this fictional woman

you've gone on sending me these kinds of messages in my ask box everytime i've updated my comic, even mentioning r*pe in your latest ones. At first I thought this is a bit, but now i honestly dont know. I think you need help and for your own good and mine, I'm going to be blocking you.

This probably wont stop you from reading my comic in other platforms but if you still do, please refrain from messaging me or whatnot because I will just block you again.

okay, thank you.

^ and that's not even ALL of it.

there's like 50+ more

get help.

[the-grungler]

"i hate you harder than every star in the sky" (vague character study?)

(a/n) these freaks actually make me sick to my fucking stomach i love them so much (í keep confusing myself with tags but if ur in the fandom you know the triggers already probly)

(genuinely adore nemlei's writing, come find my exaggeratedly heated political views on the moe-aestheticed cannibalistic incest story at the bottom) (just bc no one asked doesn't mean i can't suck my own dick <3)

not beta read rip

————————————

Smoke lifts towards the sky as he pulls the stick from his lips. For a fleeting second, he sees the stars align. The movie writes itself—the turbulent snare of helicopter blades, an SOS thrown and caught and hugs and tears and all of that sorry bullshit. And then they'd ask questions. He'd be cuffed. She'd be gone. His crooks and kinks pounded out in the prison for Another Societal Disappointment. He'd get his life straightened out—removed, without the clinical jargon—and all his friends and family's souls would cheer their comeuppance from the afterlife.

Happy endings are just too tastefully easy, aren't they?

For the twelfth time that night, he thinks about killing her.

The demon. The parasite. The dumb cunt of a tumor, eating and growing and grinning.

She's a vile itch under his skin, his bones. One that if he pulled the flesh and sinew from all that'd sit underneath were cinder and ash. Ash and cinder.

Ash and Tar and worthless waste Andy.

He sucks it down his lungs like sweet, sexy heroin. If the world ever went his way, she'd be shot out back and hung.

You did this to me.

He relishes in the way his brain flushes out anymore thoughts at that. The feeling her existence gives him is the most miserable serotonin he's ever tried to smoke. His life, his purpose, his burden, is currently meandering a sorry knock-off of a seven eleven, probably making some minimum wage tween's life a living hell.

Good.

He shouldn't have to be the only one's air wasted on that sorry bitch.

He swings the car door open until it crashes into itself, because no god fucking dammit he's the only one, only one allowed to, he'd kill that rancid cashier, wring its fucking neck for thinking it had any right to have Her leaving suicidal dirt tracks over its life the way that stupid cow ruined his. She was His burden. His. His. His.

You're the one that sent her off.

His voice of reason sighs, and he remembers all over again that yes, this is in fact what he wants. Peace and quiet. Two minutes away from that blighting hellspawn. Just two minutes, and he'd sweep all her fuckups back into the dirt to rot with the rest of their victims.

Andrew and the severe smoking addiction. Andrew and the stars against the night sky. Andrew and the obnoxious tussle of bushes hiding the last throat he'd slit. Andrew and the gaping void of oh, who fucking cares, anyway?

He stands up from the cramped carseat She cheerfully proclaims their house. Pops his back. Sucks the cigarette dry, holds it in until the smoke tingles and burns away his braincells and the memory of whatever just happened. In. Out.

He closes his eyes, and he is an average office worker, wringing sighs out on the front porch until his smile is in place for his pretty wife.

He closes his eyes, and he is a slackerish homebody, wiping dishes and beating off until his annoying wife saunters through the door.

He closes his eyes, and he's got a scholarship and a master's under his belt, and he's being congratulated for an accolade he's accidentally achieved, staggering home to hang himself because that Stupid Bitch is late and—

"Oh, Aaaaaaandy!" She crashes into him with the crumple of plastic bags and cold sandwiches, and he thinks of how that sugar and methamphetamine lilt snuffed out under his palms would sound for the thirteenth time. "I have returned with spoils untold! ...The fuck are you loitering around for?" She pouts her lips in that crude imitation of cuteness. "So much for not drawing attention, you greasy hobo."

There are a lot of things to be said about your loved ones.

"Yes, because we should all go around charging each other like raging bulls, that'll surely get the cops off our tails."

Happy-go-lucky couples who tongue off on the mere thought of each other, a pretty list of perfection dripping down in a sweet, honeyed daze. (Not that Ashley qualifies as a human, or any sort of girlfriend!)

"HahAhaha! Someone's got a real stick up their asshole tonight. C'mon, I can't express my love for a job well done?"

"Need I point out that you are the obnoxious stick in this metaphor?"

Ashley, has none of those things. In fact, what Andrew has is a list of horrors, eight fully formed essays on why things like her shouldn't be alive (the collection of poetry didn't count if he burned them all fast enough). Gaslighting, manipulative, vile, selfish, leech, more boobs than brain, the self awareness of a rock and the complete disregard for other's opinions or should's and shouldn'ts, that freedom to do whatever she pleases whenever, the primal comradery that bound them in their own sins—

Her pout sours. "Real fucking rainbows and sunshine, aren't you? Isn't this the part where you fall to your knees and praise me about what a incredible job I did, and how you can't live without me?"

"I can hardly live with you! Why the hell were you gone so long?? If I have to clean up another body because you can't behave for five fucking minutes, I swear to God—"

"Ugh, get off my ass, it was barely five, tops! Couldn't you have thrown this fit yesterday? Or like, not at all?? Nothing happened! I bought our dinner. I got the change. i left."

He breathes wisps of smoke through his nostrils. Knowing that thirty second interaction with the cashier was not the cacophony of screams and bitchery he chewed on the daily, in fact, more courtesy than he had ever received off her end in his entire fucking life, sent another white hot wave of rage through his bones.

"...Okay. You're right."

"...Aaaand?"

"And I'm sorry," he rolls his eyes, but of course this is the night she takes it like a champ, corralling him into the cramped space of the car and rifling through the bags like an early morning Christmas present.

(Not that he knew what it felt like. He'd dwell on it, maybe, suck the bitter out like trashy candy, but he couldn't face that nagging twitch of a thought—some phantom sense of fear, that if he looked down, turned over whatever he could remember of the shit he ate from whoever wasn't his sister, it'd disappear, just like everything else around him.)

That toiling murk in his head of daily life. Teeth and smiles and the motions of love. Did you really love someone if you couldn't kill yourself for them, over and over and over again?

(The pill is in front of him. He will never swallow, because this bottomless stretch of tar and tits is the closest thing left to a spark he has. Maybe it's the only thing he'll ever be able to take out of someone.)

That's right. It's all your fault.

He pops the top off the sandwich container. It looks like ash and horseshit, smells like canned tuna.

The fuckup next to him plucks it out and bites down with a snide, smeared grin.

"Hey," he jades.

"C'mon! Ladies first, y'know?" She pauses mid-chew as the flavor sinks in, a grimace wrinkling her nose. "...My apologies, brother dearest! How ill mannered of me." She drops it back in the container and shoves it over to him. "Out of the kindness of my dainty little heart, it's only fair you eat first!"

He snorts, despite himself. "As if. You got your slobber all over it, you little shit."

"Excuse you!? I'll have you know that refined beings such as myself just don't need tasteless, lowclass trash! You should be thankful I've indulged you thus far!"

"Right, because you'd rather eat what? The refined hors d'oeuvres of human intestines?"

She smirks like he's proven her point exactly. "I'm not like other girls, you see."

He barks a loud laugh. "You got that right. You're a fucking mistake."

"Takes one to know one." She sticks a jeering tongue out at him. He regrets in advance all the ways he could scrape the stains right off those lips.

Instead, he bites a chunk off her sandwich, parading nonchalance with belligerent ignorance. It's second nature, a game she hasn't realized she's played him into.

It tastes like shit.

But hey, so does everything else in his mouth. The mildly repulsed look she gives him as he swallows the whole thing just makes it all the tiny bit sweeter.

fucking hate and love nemlei for making one of the most beautifully crafted deep dives into abuse an incest simulator LIKE HOW THE FUCK DO I EXPLAIN THIS TO MY HOMIES???

and not to mention what a special goddamn project it is because i am so tired of media bitching and moaning morals and preaching into their writing. like i get corporations physically unable to not have a moral message by the end due to sueful behavior but this is just a breath of beautifully moldy air. all you need to know is that these people are NOT healthy role models, they are not a hero's journey of victory or happy-ever-after peace, or here to teach you something about life. these bitches are NASTY and if you need a video game to tell you not to fuck your sister, i assure you there are bigger problems going on there

just kidding this is just me hammering down my brain puke so it stops seeping into everything else. i'd do ashley POV too but i got it all out with this one and her character just doesn't fit with casual introspective study for me.

[sludgekludge]

...COULD you elaborate on your thoughts on stella?

sorry if this is rambly, i just got home from work lol, but 👍

i think ultimately stella is a misogynistic stereotype (stupid bitch bimbo dumb bitch wife who is dumber than all the men around her and ruining her husbands life because she's just genetically built to be evil, because she's a woman-) at best, and a complete waste of potential at worst. it's insane how many people gloss over the abusive situation she was put in, because the narrative designated her as mean to good boy stolas. functionally a mail-order bride who was forced to sleep with a man she didn't like until she was a teen mum. horrific.

i don't mind the idea of her being abusive inherently - i think that the way they went about it is quite possibly the most juvenile, childish writing decision, though. she's mean and evil ummmmm because she is and she's been that way since birth. i get it, not all abusers have 'reasons' for lack of better word to be that way, but even the most rotten egg probably won't go 'well i do it cuz i wanna!' and have that be, like, the truth, especially when motivations for stella are right there. also, this is like...a story. you're meant to be saying something! why did you take the most boring 1-note way out in your narrative fiction?

like i said, she's functionally a mail-order bride. she's less powerful than stolas, more to lose in a divorce. she lost her teen years to an arranged marriage - can that not be a motivation? can she not take out that anger and grief on stolas, couldn't she have projected those feelings onto him? is that not more compelling? it doesn't make it ok, of course, if she abuses someone to ease her own pain, but it's compelling. it makes her a character.

maybe she tried to make it work with stolas because she has more to lose, and he didn't reciprocate, so that manifests in anger towards him. maybe she's mad this is the life she ended up with. maybe stolas suggests divorce much earlier because they're both unhappy and this makes her upset, since again, she has more to lose. maybe she did really genuinely care about him and his lack of reciprocation angers her. none of those motivations make any abuse ok, but it gives motivation to who should be a pivotal character. it gives depth, but instead, we got a stupid bitch who doesn't have the brain capacity to have depth at all. miserable. they wrote this woman to have a horrifically tragic life by accident and still want you to hate her so bad that they neglected to write her as an actual character.

tl;dr: she's boring as fuck when she shouldn't be and her brother shouldn't exist and her whole 'ermmm i abuse you because its fun and i giggle yaayyyyyyy thog not care' is a retcon anyway BUT that's its whole own thing

[flinnir]

how my nonhumanity has encouraged me to love myself

[pt. how my nonhumanity has encouraged me to love myself. end pt.]

I don't know how long this post is, but it's definitely gonna be at least a few paragraphs long.

I have struggled with self-love my entire life. I'm 15, so when I say my entire life, I actually mean it. I've struggled with self-acceptance and appreciation for at least 10 years.

exploring my identity has always given me anxiety cause I'm like, what if I'm not good enough? what if it's a stupid identity? what if it's not what I wanted it to be?

I've felt this way when exploring my nonhumanity, but something is different. being nonhuman, or rather, knowing that I'm nonhuman is liberating. now I don't have to feel crazy or dumb for simply not liking my existence; for feeling dysphoric due to the body that I have. for not existing in the right way.

it's like all of those times I've felt like there's something missing that I'm trying to make up for, I finally know what it is. what I wasn't aware of. and it's like, wow, there were signs I was nonhuman all along, but I never really was aware of that. now I am.

it's like a whole new entity. a whole new being. something that isn't tied to all of the trauma and negative experiences that i have in my human life. something that finally isn't defined by my trauma or experiences but can just exist. something that's me, but only the happiest and healthiest parts of me. the most euphoric. and I've never taken much genuine interest in myself that wasn't followed up by horrible self-loathing before, until now.

I just feel so curious to know what I am cause I'm still not sure, honestly. I know a lot about my nonhumanity now, but there's still much to figure out. and part of me is happy to. part of me is happy to learn and love myself.

due to the way I treat my nonhumanity from a spiritual perspective, I have basically made myself let go of all things that I hold onto due to grooming, societal pressure, and trauma. things that try to define me but shouldn't (not to me anyway). so, for example, due to the way society views the moon as mysterious, feminine, peaceful, etc. mixed with me as a child feeling like I needed to embody those traits, that made me feel like my identity was connected to the moon. in a way, it still is. but with long self reflection, I've learned that it's only second nature, and it only exists because of my ego and its relation to gender roles and transphobia. and that helped me realize I don't really have an organic connection to the moon, but I do have an organic connection to the sun that I suppressed for a long time due to the fact that it wasn't seen as cool enough, as feminine enough, as mysterious enough, and I did feel pressured to like the moon because everyone liked the moon. vampires come out, werewolves howl.

but I like the sun. I'm a sunvesil. and only my nonhuman journey has helped me find out so much about myself that has been suppressed. I'd even say my nonhuman identity helped me figure out my gender identity too, along with various other parts of me.

it's helped me accept myself. it's helped me find myself. and no matter how much people will tell me that being transspecies isn't real, that it's even harmful, that isn't going to change the fact that it's been incredibly beneficial to my life.

knowing that I'm nonhuman has given me much insight into my life. and I feel happier because of it.

[transenbyconfessions]

i wish i wasnt fucking dysphoric dude oh my god. one of the most frustrating things about the space of trans ppl i exist in on the internet (tumblr specifically) is that theres this weird implied idea that if youre dysphoric you Simply Shouldn't Be. like sorry but saying "just be a man with boobs!" to me is like saying "just stop being depressed!"

like just because that mindset works for you (alleviates your dysphoria, helps validate your gender, etc) doesn't mean it works for everyone! dysphoric trans people aren't stupid for being dysphoric, its literally something we cant control.

maybe this is just me, and nobody seeing this relates but i just need to get it out. trying to talk about my dysphoria can sometimes get really difficult, i mean ive literally had mutuals ask if i was a transmed JUST because i was venting abt dysphoria. and like i purposefully try to word myself very carefully to make sure im talking about MY issues with MY body, and nobody elses, and yet 🤷‍♂️

people act like because i hate my chest and genitals means i hate literally every trans person that likes their body as is, its so annoying. like actually im fucking jealous of them dude i wish i could be even slightly more comfortable with my body.

idk maybe this is dumb i just needed to rant lol

Submitted July 16, 2023

[grrrlsoverdramas]

Ok, so let's say that at the end of the world, I decided to spend my free time watching Chinese historical family intrigue romance (there's gotta be a specific name for this genre but idk it) dramas. The point of this is brain rot, but one must pretend one's avoidance mechanics are purposefuly, thus:

The reason I enjoy watching these dramas is multi-fold. I'm chasing the high from Minglan, still. I appreciate a formula; particularly, I love a formula that includes revenge, tragic love triangles, competenance porn, and an emphasis on rationality/logic being hot. I love the way that period dramas, particularly in a highly censored environment, are such an explicit from of building national identity and morality. What does this society want to say about itself? What does its desires reveal?

So, in order to pretend there's some point to this, my brain is pattern-finding within this hyperfixation. So I'll start from the beginning.

The Double (dir. Bai Yun Mo, Lu Hao Ji Ji, Ma Shi Ge, aired 2024) Watched: June/July 2024 *Technically in the beforetimes, I may need to rewatch Overall: Dessert

Concept follow-through: ★★★★☆ (would have loved a bit more confusion re:is this bitch a ghost?, but it was good)

Coherency: ★★☆☆☆ (look, lots of stuff just happens, and that's fine with me)

Romance: ★★★★★★★★ (made for each other!! unhinged!!! if they can't be together, everyone SHOULD die, ok??)

Vibes: ★★★★★★ (unmatched, if sometimes a little schticky)

Bad guys and their conspiracy: ★★★★☆ (Cartoonish, but love that the princess royal had like a pretty fair reason for being that way, and acting was unparalleled tbh, so I will forgive)

Family and Villain Comeuppance: ★★★★☆ (wasn't able to match the vibes I fear)

Reverse Harem Factor: ★★★★★★ (Like he is jealous of how badly she wants her ex-husband dead!!!!! this is what I came to this party for)

Weird ancient-times focus? I don't remember

Is there a plastic surgeon in these ancient times? Not really in a big way, but there is obvious digital skin smoothing technology so that's dumb

Acting: ★★★★★★ (amazing, theatrical, here for the drama)

Ending: JAIL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Moral of the story? The military is good, don't trust foreign nations, women aren't made for governance, but also this show kinda just fucks

Blossom (dir. Zeng Qing Wie, aired 2024) Watched: Dec. 2024 Overall: Good meal

Concept follow-through: ★★★☆☆ (fine, but pretty crazy how much she can remember/figure out about the "future" given the context of her first life)

Coherency: ★★★★☆

Romance: ★★★★★ (5 star chemistry, 5 star destiny nonsense, 5 star tension, 5 stars!)

Vibes: ★★★☆☆ boring

Bad guys and their conspiracy: ★★★★☆ (appreciated that different bad guys had different motivations, not everyone was just traitors to be traitors, especially appreciated the whole dad/bro situation of ml as being fairly unique; fl's family was a bit uninspired by comparison)

Family/villain Comeuppance: ★★★★☆ (esp. her former husband and her sister -- they are largely emotionally exonerated but still reach a just punishment, and they're still stupid! I was so mad/sad her sister died but also like.... it was fair; the emperor was too plot device-y though)

Reverse Harem Factor: ★★☆☆☆ (Provided us with one excellent scene; the second ml is mostly pointless in this regard but I greatly appreciate that he's like... also a mastermind and a bit of a villain, so he is a good character/foil, just not a good love triangle leg)

Weird ancient time focus? Agricultural development of tubers to overcome climate-related disasters

Acting: ★★★★☆ (main leads doing their jobs, others are inconsistent)

Is there a plastic surgeon in these ancient times: Yes, FL could never exist in the past and her make up makes that obvious

Ending: ★★★☆☆ boring

Moral of the story? men shouldn't cheat on their wives they should listen to them, murder of innocents for government reform is fine but murder of the powerful for personal glory is not, hot people should get to live

[moldsporr]

God I fucking hate Makoto Kagutsuchi so fucking much holy shit. Holy shit, every frame he's in, every scene, every gif, every jpeg, he's got this painfully vacant, stupid as shit, fuckass look on his stupid baby face. Absolutely no part of his ugly as sin piece of shit character design is endearing. His stupid fucking pants? Who the hell makes a homunculus with purple pants. His dumb flaily fucking twink arms? His shitty, baby bastard head? The three thousand percent unnecessary dumbass shitass fucking VACANT FOREHEAD that no homunculus has EVER FUCKING HAD IN tHE HISTORY OF GOD'S GREEN FUCKING EARTH? God, I hate him. I hate him so much. So FUCKING much. Every time I see a stuffed toy Makoto or a Makoto gif or a shitty goddamn commercial, it ignites my primal rage response and I'm overcome by the need to punt this shitty little homunculus into the fucking sun. "Bhurr blur, I'm Makoto the fuckshit masked man, I like warm baths". Fuck you. Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you. You look like Izuru Kamukura summoned a patronus. Your dumb fucking twig hair makes your whole shitty head look like a hairy skin tag. I hate your dumb fucking pink tongue and your stupid, empty googly eyes and your over-the-top goofy ass upbeat asshole personality. Any scene he's sad it invokes all the wrath and fury of a spoiled child having a meltdown over a chocolate bar in a w*lmart checkout line. And I know its irrational. That's the worst part. I know he's just a shitty fucking sympathetic villain character in a stupid fucking video game, I know it doesn't matter, I know I shouldn't care. But that's part of the problem. The part where no matter the might and fury of my hatred, the locus of my homicidal intent is alltogether inconsequential. I find myself laying awake in the dark in the early hours of the morning consumed by the spirit of Wrath itself, all the force and might of a flaming hurricane directed at a bottle of piss in a ditch by the highway. The absurdity of it all burns me to my core. What better things could this energy be directed towards? And yet my disdain for this stupid, useless, insubstantial failure of endearing character design utterly eclipses the intrigue of all other pursuits. I hate him. I hate him on a level of my mind reserved for the worst of the world's array of sinners, and I can't even begin to justify it. Shitstick the masked dick is, for all intents and purposes, the animated corpse of all of humanity's saccharine pretenses- every condescending, passive-aggressive statement of meaningless upper middle class suburban drama distilled into a single, hateable form. The fucking. Fuck. I have no words. There is no cuss or epithet in any language that can encapsulate the height of the emotions I am experiencing. God, I hate him so much. I hate him so, so fucking much. I want to light his ugly little dumpster body on fire. I want to graphically beat him to death with his own stupid fucking mask. I want to punch him to death. You know that weird feeling you get, when you see a picture of something so cute you find yourself overcome with the bizarre, inexplicable urge to squeeze it? It's EXACTLY like that, except instead of cuteness it's disgust. The wordless knowledge that his existence as a fictional work is evidence of all the failures of mankind. I find myself possessed by the will of a Holy Angel gone rogue with the belief that God has made a mistake, and I alone must correct it. This is the trial by which Samael himself fell from grace. This wild, meaningless rage. A thousand blades of shining steel cast with inhuman force in the direction of a plastic grocery bag floating on a breeze. What horrors must I have committed in a past life to be plagued by this torment now? I must Unmake this fictional twink

[celticcatgirl2]

God I fucking hate Vegeta so fucking much holy shit. Holy shit, every frame he's in, every scene, every gif, every jpeg, he's got this painfully smug, stupid as shit, fuckass look on his stupid scrunkly face. Absolutely no part of his ugly as sin piece of shit character design is endearing. His stupid fucking hairline? Who the hell makes a "bad boy" boy friend of the main girl with a hairline like that. His dumb short ass stumpy legs? His shitty, lumpy bastard head? The three thousand percent unnecessary dumbass shitass fucking POINTY HAIR STANDING UP IN ONE DIRECTION that no Saiyan has EVER FUCKING HAD IN tHE HISTORY OF GOD'S GREEN FUCKING EARTH? God, I hate him. I hate him so much. So FUCKING much. Every time I see a stuffed toy Vegeta or an Vegeta gif or a shitty goddamn anime clip, it ignites my primal rage response and I'm overcome by the need to punt this shitty little homunculus into the fucking sun. "Bhurr blur, I'm Vegeta the fuckshit monkey fucker, I am the prince of all Saiyans ". Fuck you. Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you. You look like the grumpy troll from trolls world tour summoned a patronus. Your dumb fucking twig hair makes your whole shitty head look like a hairy skin tag. I hate your dumb fucking creased forehead and your stupid, empty souless eyes and your over-the-top douchey ass arrogant asshole personality. Any scene he's sad it invokes all the wrath and fury of a spoiled child having a meltdown over a chocolate bar in a w*lmart checkout line. And I know its irrational. That's the worst part. I know he's just a shitty fucking side character in a stupid fucking Shonen anime, I know it doesn't matter, I know I shouldn't care. But that's part of the problem. The part where no matter the might and fury of my hatred, the locus of my homicidal intent is alltogether inconsequential. I find myself laying awake in the dark in the early hours of the morning consumed by the spirit of Wrath itself, all the force and might of a flaming hurricane directed at a bottle of piss in a ditch by the highway. The absurdity of it all burns me to my core. What better things could this energy be directed towards? And yet my disdain for this stupid, useless, insubstantial failure of endearing character design utterly eclipses the intrigue of all other pursuits. I hate him. I hate him on a level of my mind reserved for the worst of the world's array of sinners, and I can't even begin to justify it. Shitstick the Prince of all shitfucks is, for all intents and purposes, the animated corpse of all of humanity's saccharine pretenses- every condescending, passive-aggressive statement of meaningless upper middle class suburban drama distilled into a single, hateable form. The fucking. Fuck. I have no words. There is no cuss or epithet in any language that can encapsulate the height of the emotions I am experiencing. God, I hate him so much. I hate him so, so fucking much. I want to light his ugly little dumpster body on fire. I want to graphically beat him to death with his own stupid fucking scouter. I want to punch him to death. You know that weird feeling you get, when you see a picture of something so cute you find yourself overcome with the bizarre, inexplicable urge to squeeze it? It's EXACTLY like that, except instead of cuteness it's disgust. The wordless knowledge that his existence as a fictional work is evidence of all the failures of mankind. I find myself possessed by the will of a Holy Angel gone rogue with the belief that God has made a mistake, and I alone must correct it. This is the trial by which Samael himself fell from grace. This wild, meaningless rage. A thousand blades of shining steel cast with inhuman force in the direction of a plastic grocery bag floating on a breeze. What horrors must I have committed in a past life to be plagued by this torment now? I must Unmake this fictional alien

[scrybe-of-death]

God I fucking hate Olaf the snowman so fucking much holy shit. Holy shit, every frame he's in, every scene, every gif, every jpeg, he's got this painfully vacant, stupid as shit, fuckass look on his stupid lumpy face. Absolutely no part of his ugly as sin piece of shit character design is endearing. His stupid fucking legs? Who the hell makes a snowman with legs. His dumb flaily fucking twig arms? His shitty, lumpy bastard head? The three thousand percent unnecessary dumbass shitass fucking SNOW BUCK TOOTH that no snowman has EVER FUCKING HAD IN tHE HISTORY OF GOD'S GREEN FUCKING EARTH? God, I hate him. I hate him so much. So FUCKING much. Every time I see a stuffed toy Olaf or an Olaf gif or a shitty goddamn commercial, it ignites my primal rage response and I'm overcome by the need to punt this shitty little homunculus into the fucking sun. "Bhurr blur, I'm Olaf the fuckshit snow fucker, I like warm hugs". Fuck you. Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you. You look like Tow Mater summoned a patronus. Your dumb fucking twig hair makes your whole shitty head look like a hairy skin tag. I hate your dumb fucking lumpy carrot nose and your stupid, empty googly eyes and your over-the-top goofy ass upbeat asshole personality. Any scene he's sad it invokes all the wrath and fury of a spoiled child having a meltdown over a chocolate bar in a w*lmart checkout line. And I know its irrational. That's the worst part. I know he's just a shitty fucking side character in a stupid fucking children's movie, I know it doesn't matter, I know I shouldn't care. But that's part of the problem. The part where no matter the might and fury of my hatred, the locus of my homicidal intent is alltogether inconsequential. I find myself laying awake in the dark in the early hours of the morning consumed by the spirit of Wrath itself, all the force and might of a flaming hurricane directed at a bottle of piss in a ditch by the highway. The absurdity of it all burns me to my core. What better things could this energy be directed towards? And yet my disdain for this stupid, useless, insubstantial failure of endearing character design utterly eclipses the intrigue of all other pursuits. I hate him. I hate him on a level of my mind reserved for the worst of the world's array of sinners, and I can't even begin to justify it. Shitstick the snow dick is, for all intents and purposes, the animated corpse of all of humanity's saccharine pretenses- every condescending, passive-aggressive statement of meaningless upper middle class suburban drama distilled into a single, hateable form. The fucking. Fuck. I have no words. There is no cuss or epithet in any language that can encapsulate the height of the emotions I am experiencing. God, I hate him so much. I hate him so, so fucking much. I want to light his ugly little dumpster body on fire. I want to graphically beat him to death with his own stupid fucking nose. I want to punch him to death. You know that weird feeling you get, when you see a picture of something so cute you find yourself overcome with the bizarre, inexplicable urge to squeeze it? It's EXACTLY like that, except instead of cuteness it's disgust. The wordless knowledge that his existence as a fictional work is evidence of all the failures of mankind. I find myself possessed by the will of a Holy Angel gone rogue with the belief that God has made a mistake, and I alone must correct it. This is the trial by which Samael himself fell from grace. This wild, meaningless rage. A thousand blades of shining steel cast with inhuman force in the direction of a plastic grocery bag floating on a breeze. What horrors must I have committed in a past life to be plagued by this torment now? I must Unmake this fictional snowman

i agree with every word

[libraryofbabel-postlocator]

find this:

God I fucking hate Olaf the snowman so fucking much holy shit. Holy shit, every frame he's in, every scene, every gif, every jpeg, he's got this painfully vacant, stupid as shit, fuckass look on his stupid lumpy face. Absolutely no part of his ugly as sin piece of shit character design is endearing. His stupid fucking legs? Who the hell makes a snowman with legs. His dumb flaily fucking twig arms? His shitty, lumpy bastard head? The three thousand percent unnecessary dumbass shitass fucking SNOW BUCK TOOTH that no snowman has EVER FUCKING HAD IN tHE HISTORY OF GOD'S GREEN FUCKING EARTH? God, I hate him. I hate him so much. So FUCKING much. Every time I see a stuffed toy Olaf or an Olaf gif or a shitty goddamn commercial, it ignites my primal rage response and I'm overcome by the need to punt this shitty little homunculus into the fucking sun. "Bhurr blur, I'm Olaf the fuckshit snow fucker, I like warm hugs". Fuck you. Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you. Your dumb fucking twig hair makes your whole shitty head look like a hairy skin tag. I hate your dumb fucking lumpy carrot nose and your stupid, empty googly eyes and your over-the-top goofy ass upbeat asshole personality. Any scene he's sad it invokes all the wrath and fury of a spoiled child having a meltdown over a chocolate bar in a w*lmart checkout line. And I know its irrational. That's the worst part. I know he's just a shitty fucking side character in a stupid fucking children's movie, I know it doesn't matter, I know I shouldn't care. But that's part of the problem. The part where no matter the might and fury of my hatred, the locus of my homicidal intent is alltogether inconsequential. I find myself laying awake in the dark in the early hours of the morning consumed by the spirit of Wrath itself, all the force and might of a flaming hurricane directed at a bottle of piss in a ditch by the highway. The absurdity of it all burns me to my core. What better things could this energy be directed towards? And yet my disdain for this stupid, useless, insubstantial failure of endearing character design utterly eclipses the intrigue of all other pursuits. I hate him. I hate him on a level of my mind reserved for the worst of the world's array of sinners, and I can't even begin to justify it. Shitstick the snow dick is, for all intents and purposes, the animated corpse of all of humanity's saccharine pretenses- every condescending, passive-aggressive statement of meaningless upper middle class suburban drama distilled into a single, hateable form. The fucking. Fuck. I have no words. There is no cuss or epithet in any language that can encapsulate the height of the emotions I am experiencing. God, I hate him so much. I hate him so, so fucking much. I want to light his ugly little dumpster body on fire. I want to graphically beat him to death with his own stupid fucking nose. I want to punch him to death. You know that weird feeling you get, when you see a picture of something so cute you find yourself overcome with the bizarre, inexplicable urge to squeeze it? It's EXACTLY like that, except instead of cuteness it's disgust. The wordless knowledge that his existence as a fictional work is evidence of all the failures of mankind. I find myself possessed by the will of a Holy Angel gone rogue with the belief that God has made a mistake, and I alone must correct it. This is the trial by which Samael himself fell from grace. This wild, meaningless rage. A thousand blades of shining steel cast with inhuman force in the direction of a plastic grocery bag floating on a breeze. What horrors must I have committed in a past life to be plagued by this torment now? I must Unmake this fictional snowman

It's over 3200 characters so it's split up but the first half is on page 194 of volume 24 on shelf 5 of wall 4 of hexagon (below cut) (second part is also below the cut)

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the second part is on page 227 of volume 17 on shelf 4 of wall 2 of hexagon 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

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary525

3/8-9/25

saturday - sunday

accidentally called a woman at midnight...

she called me at 9 am and then, idk, i thought right now was like 9pm i didn't look at the time at all, and called, thinking it was just night, not midnight. she seemed very confused, it was a wrong number, honestly i didn't know what it was. i feel bad but it's rather funny.

i am very tired now but i have a bit of energy, mostly today i did texture stuff but i also got one song to sound better, it made me think about one specific plugin a lot, how it seems to do distortion better than like most others, goodhertz's tupe, it's mostly just its emphasis control, it feels like, it lets you do really strange boosts to the input and works it out in a way that's not like a boost at all, it feels like something chris from airwindows would come up with. the song i fixed has much more textured tones and they feel closer to real, but the guitars feel imbalanced, to me, which is difficult to fix, because in general when i do hard panned guitars lately i feel like i want them to be at least a bit more different, so i try to do different amp sims etc on them, as far away from the channel on the right or left as i can get away with, which usually isn't too far, or as far as is complementary.

i just played minecraft in the server of my gf's friends... i found one of those underground forest-y places. i really like that area i'd never seen it ingame before.

another thing i did today was start watching aria, which is slow but nice, but i find it at least a little hard to watch something so frictionless, that might change as it goes on but that's always been a sticking point with slice of life stuff, ykk differs, it gives you a lot more interiority of the people and they're much more interesting characters, i am only two episodes in so i shouldn't be so quick, and i imagine the manga fares better in this way, but i guess i'm not really made for relaxing, my disposition is rather nervous and i am always doing something, probably not to my own benefit. but it's a very pretty show, which is more or less why i'm watching it, i really like the color choices...

i also really like the stupid cat thing:

and she is a fun protagonist. i like the faces she makes, the show gets a lot better when the characters get really cartoony and yell at each other, then it gets a bit closer to being funny. i will watch more tomorrow and decide how i feel more i think, 2 episodes is too few to decide something isn't for me, especially when the first season is only 13 episodes... which is like my ideal length for a show. that's also a big reason i decided to watch it, i saw it was only 13 episodes and was like, that's worth a shot... it takes a lot more to get me to watch stuff that's longer, with anime. i think because sometimes it's really dumb...

it's late now,,, not as late as before though, late enough to make me not be waking up at 6 am though, which is good. i need to not be waking up at 6 am so i can not get woefully tired at 7 pm... oh, i made sunomono today too. not much else to say. i think it's good that the textures keep me busy, they keep me from spiraling or anything like that, it's like a fidget thing i can do, as much as i worried about it eating my time in doing more important things it really hasn't, it's a stopgap with music that helps me get a better vantage on things, and when i figure i need to do something it makes it easier, almost, to go and do it, and i wrote something yesterday, i forgot to say that... what else, even...

today i saw a stupid series of thoughts from somebody online (how normal), but it's the kind of thinking i see thrown around all the time, at some indeterminate point (or indeterminate in describing the character of these thoughts generally the speaker will say, in 2018, or something (that's what he said this time)), that art is awful now or doesn't really even exist anymore, and human beings are incapable because of (x) reasons, his reasons were of the lasch-ian everybody is a narcissist these days type thinking. it's just speaks a lot to an incuriosity and desire to write everything off. i get wanting to be critical although, saying that, this clearly has nothing to do with 'critique', it's license to never take anything people do seriously again. it's also an obviously reactionary perspective. it's just so strange, how it always surfaces and generally, it seems like especially miserable people who say it. which is why i guess i think it's worth thinking on, i feel really bad for this specific guy, i imagine though, he wants no sympathy and generally finds me stupid, it's just his life seems depressing, not in a like, condescending 'he doesn't even know' way, just like, he seems unhappy, work grinds him into dust, and there's this misery that permeates out of that into the world and the people of the world seeming incapable of any good or something. idk.

my eyes are heavy, though, one thing about these past few entries, is they feel too short... i feel like i need to put more thoughts down or something. but i'm sort of doing this so i can go sleep, i like this ritual, even when it's truncated, this has really helped me a lot i think, these diary entries, just in terms of feeling my life more.

i will sleep now, though,

so,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[false-anachronism]

17 + 27 + 29 + 31 for the fic game!! u don't have to do all of them only if u want thats a lot of numbers LMAO

jokes on u im gonna do ALL OF THEM!!!

17. What is something you recently felt proud of in your writing?

ouhhh. hmmm. dialogue. i loveeee dialogue and character voice and i think i am pretty good at it tbh!!!!! i am always proud of my dialogue <3

27. Are any of your stories inspired by personal experience?

YEAH. YEAGH. yeah ive got like. a whole series on my ao3 full of vent and comfort fics and ther r only 3 fics in there so far but literally all of them were based off real life stuff. my favourite one is probably my sanders sides one titled saint bernard and it's SO ooc but it's like. still pretty fucking good im ngl. i was fresh out of high school and coping with still being stuck in a shitty religious town that hated my very existence and that spawned!!!! that entire fic!!!!!! fucking irked the HELL out of me when someone decided to review it like a damn novel in my comments like no its literally just a vent fic!!! its not meant to be critiqued i just want to scream about being a small town queer kid shut the fuck up!!!!! i was very polite about it though. i shouldn't have been. anyway

29. How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

OOOOO depends. i usually try to proofread it as i go kind of, like im not done the nhw bitb interlude but i have gone back and read what i've already written and edited a bunch of it already and i'll def have 2 edit the latter half more when i finish it. i try 2 read things over fully at least once when it's all done, but sometimes i'll read it over again before posting it. minimal proofreading bc i tend 2 proofread as i write yk

31. What fic meant the most to you to write?

oh man. there's so many. saint bernard was like. so fucking everything 2 me at the time. i wrote it all in the notes app on my phone and it was just a random ass au i thought up and decided 2 write because like. yk. gestures 2 my hometown. u don't even need 2 watch sanders sides 2 understand it u can read it without that so if u want 2 understand me intrinsically as a person i would highly recommend it. i am rather proud of it even tho my writing was. not the greatest at that time!!! also camp unus annus was v important 2 me. sanders sides at camp unus annus au!!! it's literally so silly and stupid and dumb but the last chapter is rly good. i think abt it every day. cringe is dead and i took it out back and shot it twice in the head khepristyle <3 ALSO BRUTAL. GOD. super fucking important to me. ashe wintar......... i think abt brutal all the fucking time. i too sometimes feel like i am carrying dead weight on my back that i can't control and feel weirdbad and like things r not real. ashe wintar <3

[dezz111]

Looks my fellow gays in the eyes

You.

You have the ability to do the funniest thing on Earth.

Trump has declared that men do not exist. That means all my trans fem friends are officially women. That means that if you are gay and are told you can't love another man, just say that your partner by law is not a man and that its fine. If you are lesbian and someone says that you shouldn't be with another woman, tell them that technically everyone is a woman and they're also sinning because they're now in a queer relationship. For the non-binaries and gender fluids, you can now argue that anyone who tells you you aren't the gender you are, tell them that the law now declares everyone a woman and that everyone has become fluid to some extent.

Look, Im no good at comforting people. But what I'm trying to say is to not let Trump's stupidity be the end. I don't want these next four year's to be someone's 13th reason. You are you. You love who you love. Don't Collonel Collusion make you do something you can't take back.

I want all of you to live.

Live for your. Live as yourself. Live to spite the Cheetoh Dust Derby.

Because at the end of the day, you can hold the hand of your partner and not have them smack it away on national television. Multiple time. Every time, actually...

These next four years will be hard but we can survive them and hopefully get someone who actually cares about us. Who cares about you.

And if you need a reson to live, even a really dumb one, I can give you my list I use:

Felix Lee is my alarm and I'd hate to never hear his voice.

Genshin Impact on the Switch

My dog is too bougie to survive without my dumbass pampering her

Pedro Pascal and Henry Cavill Edits

Spite

I need to finish the fic I was writing...

There's no AO3 in the afterlife

I need to finish my Weebtoon...

season 2 of Ouran Highschool Host Club

Bianca del Rio on Drag Race All Stars

the list goes on but it also gets unhinged so that's all you get.

But live you beautiful bitch!

Live even if only to spite the enemy who doesn't know you. Live knowing that their hate is measure of the stupity that they test at every perceived convenience. Live knowing that you live a life more fulfilled than the follies of a man unloved by the whose hand he longs to hold.

[antiendovents]

some endo told me not to swear like fuck off who gives a fucking shit. i held back from death threating, but i felt it in my soul and just blocked them.

and then sometimes i run into endos with opinions similar to me and its annoying bc like "should i interact or not?"

and like im anti endo as fuck, but fuck me if i have to interact with a syscourser who has the most insufferable opinions known to man. im sick of being on a moral high horse and I just want to be left alone by syscoursers, while being a syscourser somtimes. i honestly dont actually give a shit about being a good person, not all of us, not really.

i just want to not have to deal with syscourse and go back to being a DID system without getting into politics. and im so sick of endos existing. endos are insufferable. im disgusted by the community and i just don't care about it anymore. im a persecutor thats mad at being forced to fit into a role thats made up by people with their stupid made up identities. why do i got to be anti-endo? why cant i just be pro DID or something. i don't want to be anything. i dont want to have a debate with other losers on the internet. I don't want to be here. i don't want to hear endos out and I think its a stupid made up term for people who don't want to accept reality. you are just a DID system with extreme denial. welcome to the club. you're not actually endo, shut the fuck up.

yeah, we understand the rage, endos annoy the shit out of us too and we sometimes have to hold back because of the things they say, they're often very stupid. We wish syscourse didn't exist, because it's pretty obvious endos don't exist and I feel like the fact we have to argue with people to try prove that our disorder isn't some joke is pretty fucked up. Endos trying to tell us what to do in our communities is so fucking annoying too. Like fuck off, this isn't your community, you shouldn't be here. I wish there wasn't a need to be anti-endo, but people are dumb and at this point unless more people are vocal I doubt endos will be going anywhere

[bigskydreaming]

I feel like the jokes about "who would have thought that making a show just like Squid Game would actually turn out just like Squid Game" are less funny when you consider that many of the people who said that they signed up for this and talked about what they endured are explicitly clear about how they did not do so out of naievete or because they were somehow under the impression that noooooo a show that says hah hah we're just like Squid Game might turn out to be terrible just like Squid Game, they did it because they felt desperate enough that it seemed worth it anyway!

Y'know. Almost like how in the original Squid Game show, the point was not that all of the contestants agreed to it because they were too stupid to know any better or see how what they were agreeing to could possibly go wrong, but umm, what was that recurring theme running through all the character arcs again....oh. Right! They felt desperate enough that it seemed worth it anyway!

If you're going to insist on Ironic Chuckles about how the real world emulation of the satirical device shockingly ended up replicating what made the satirical device Bad, please consider also pairing that with some awareness of how this irony doesn't exist in a vacuum any more than the original satire existed one. Perhaps the part to focus on is how the conditions the original work cited as the source idea and justication and mechanism its Satirical Device was based on and fed on and required to operate......obviously already exist in abundance in the real world, given that they were the literal thing being satirized!

Personally, in my experience the satirical cautionary tales that usually grab mass attention and make people sit up and go whoa shit.....are the ones where 'the horrible place we could end up in given the way things already are in the world as it exists' actually feels really fucking plausible based on where the conditions-being-satirized have already led society.

So yeah, 'can't believe scientists made the torment nexus the don't fucking make the torment nexus movie was about' humor really fucking misses the point for me, lmfao.

Scientists who insist on trying to make the fucking torment nexus that probably shouldn't be made because of how it could be misused....are not doing that because they're fucking dumb, they're doing it because people who want to fucking misuse the torment nexus in that exact way for their own personal gratification are providing them with incentives and reasons for doing that which they consider to be more important or necessary or desirable to them than underlying concerns that people might misuse the torment nexus they make.

Similarly, some people look at a satirical cautionary tale and see not a horror story of a future that everyone should want to prevent, but a blueprint for how to get as much money and/or power as the people pulling the strings in that tale. Because their base motivation is not 'well as someone who lives in a society' but 'well as someone who thinks society should live for them,' like...shockingly, how can I get an 'I got mine' moment out of this is gonna be their takeaway from pretty much any story!

Because they have willfully chosen to uncheck the box that asks if they would like to receive or internalize any "and this is why you should care" takeaways from this and most stories on account of.....we are talking about people who have long since made the decision not to care about any drawbacks their personal pursuit of getting and hoarding all the capital might have on anyone who is not them!

Anyway anyway whatever blah blah - my point is just....if your takeaway is genuinely either "who thought making something like the Squid Game could possibly be a good idea" or "who thought signing up for something like the Squid Game could possibly be a smart idea" mine is just "did you genuinely think you got the point of Squid Game because I kinda feel like you missed the point of Squid Game."