#know with no knowledge

[wanologic]

sorry danny, sam will never think you’re cool

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

died and came back tired. died and came back exhausted. died and came back with manic energy. died and came back with malingering unease. died and came back twitchy. so many possibilities

[mynnthia]

was talking with a friend about how some of dunmeshi fаndom misunderstands kabru's initial feelings towards laios.

to sum up kabru's situation via a self-contained modernized metaphor:

kabru is like a guy who lost his entire family in a highly traumatic car accident. years later he joins a discord server and takes note of laios, another server member who seems interesting, so they start chatting. then laios reveals his special interest and favorite movie of all time is David Cronenberg's Crash (1996), and invites kabru to go watch a demolition derby with him

[kozzax]

It's times like these, when Grian refers to snails as molluscs and gastropods, that I remember he has a degree in marine biology. In retrospect this makes the fishing arc funnier I think.

[srvoskliemalt]

Thoughtspew №. 6: An Anecdote from Nikolas, the voicebox of Fear

I do not fear death in the sense that I fear one day that I may cease to exist biologically, but rather I fear death in the sense that the body will unexist and leave the soul to unspeakable and unknown horrors. No other topic has been under the constant scientific lens and the large ponderful scrutinising eye of Man other than his expiration and the events out of time that could unfold thereafter.

Death. The total cessation of life processes that eventually occurs in all living organisms, as is defined by the Encyclopædia Britannica. The end, the inevitable, the punishment of God of which its purpose serves to return Man to his form from which he was conceived.

I classify death in the Smythe Wheel of concepts as they are arranged in due emotion invoked on the Unpleasantrey end of the Wheel. Death serves as the extreme end of Pain, which itself is an extreme.

Pain is an odd thing as much as it is a horrible and, to some people, delightful thing. It exists in many forms: it is the finishing flick of the hand with which Brutus would end Caesar's rule, it is the expression of a mother as she lays a dead son to rest, it is the pieces of a heart reduced to mosaics upon the floor as two lovers are torn apart.

Many a great and valiant and selfless man will claim and offer their bodies to endure the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune and bear the mark of the Whip with which beastly men flay their brothers to shreds. In no time in history will any of these men claim it again when the time comes for words to become actions; there is naught but foolish pleads of mercy, prayers for a Power Up Above whose back has been turned away for millennia, the wish to substitute the body of another to shield your own - selfish is man when he faces his primal thoughts! Impulse feeds into folly! In the face of death there are no heroes.

I fear Pain as much as any man does: I order to breathe deeply after entering bodies of water, I cling for ropes with all the force a hand can cling with, I lock up when standing from great heights. These things are not cowardly, but necessary and inherently instinctful. The instinct of Man is his weakpoint, his Achilles' heel, his point of hubris!

My speech becomes distorted and my time to write cohesively lessons, I am but Thought which influences the Mind and I am due for redundancy at any rate from now, so I leave these takeaways for which anyone is interested.

He who hath an ear, let him hear what a Mind saith unto the masses!

For the Thinker whose Mind weeps silently under chains and bug eyes, hear what He saith unto you!

Strip yourself of instinct, free yourself from the bondage of preservation of the self!

Slavery is hope and liberty is fear!

Lose yourself and lose the keys to your Mind - loss of the soul is VICTORY over the Self!

For the Fool whose blinds himself willingly of the flames that dance to the rhythm of his slowing heart, hear what He saith unto you!

Tear yourself from the lies of false idols and live in Fear and naught but Fear!

A jester and a king leave the same skeleton centuries following their deaths - conquer what it is you believe is yours and burn the men outside!

And for the Enlightened among the crowds whose masks ooze outwards with blood and tears, hear what He saith unto you!

Let NOTHING and NO-ONE but yourself enslave your Mind, the OTHERS work towards your continued suffering!

LET NOT the demons and silver-tongued men see what you are and who you wish to be - they shall surely twist Reality to ensure your torment and dread and depression and DOOM!

GET OUT IF YOU CAN.

FREE YOUR SOUL.

BREAK YOUR CHAINS.

ISOLATE.

DISASSOCIATE.

IF DEATH IS TO COME THEN SLAY HIM AS YOU SEE FIT.

WE KILL GOD AND REACH FOR HIS THRONE.

FEAR EVERYONE.

LET THEM APPLAUD FROM THE SLAUGHTERHOUSE.

LET THEM REMAIN IN TORMENT AND IN BONDAGE.

BE FREE.

[cedriiii]

that one dynamic meme

[egophiliac]

can't believe that skeleman has turned on us, and Halloween Prom is tomorrow.

(what a top-tier UM...we are about to be just totally obliterated in the absolute silliest way. what possible use could this power have outside of bringing us to the brink of utter holiday disaster.)

[maxgicalgirl]

Being a “Fun Fact !” kind of autistic is all fun and games until you get halfway through sharing an interesting tidbit and realize that it probably wasn’t appropriate to share in polite company and now you have to deal with the consequences :(

[inkskinned]

the thing about some men is that they want you to remember, at all times, that you are underneath them. that with one word or look or "joke", you will stay beneath them. that even "exceptions" to the rule are not true exceptions - the commonly cited statistic that one in eight men believe they could win against serena williams.

women's gymnastics is often not seen as real gymnastics. whatever the fuck non-euclidian horrors rhythmic gymnasts are capable of, it's often tamped down as being not a sport. some of the most dominant athletes in the world are women. nobody watches women's soccer. despite years of dancing and being built like a fucking brick, men always assume they're faster and stronger than i am. you wouldn't like what happens when they are incorrect. once while drunk at a guy's house i won a held-plank challenge by a solid minute. the party was over after that - he became exceedingly violent.

what i mean is that you can be perfect, and they still think you're ... lacking, somehow. i hope you understand i'm trying to express a neutral statement when i say: taylor swift was the possibly the most patriarchy-palatable, straight-down-the-line woman we could churn out. she is white, conventionally attractive, usually pretty mild in personality. say what you will about her (and you should, she's a billionaire, she can handle it), but a few things seem to be true about her: 1. she can write a damn catchy song, and 2. the eras tour truly was a massive commercial success and was also genuinely an impressive feat of human athleticism and performance.

i don't know if she deserves the title of "woman of the year," i'm not debating that in this post. what i am saying is that she was named Woman of The Year, and then an untalented man got onstage at the golden globes and made fun of her for attending her boyfriend's football games. what i am saying is that this woman altered local economies - and her dating life is still being made into a "harmless" punchline. the camera panned, greedy, over to her downing a full glass of champagne. congratulations taylor! you are woman of the year! but you are a woman. even her.

fuck, man. write better material.

a guy gets onstage at a college graduation and despite the fact like half the crowd is made up of women, he spends a significant proportion of it warning these people - who spent possibly hundreds of thousands of dollars on their education - that they were lied to. that the "real" meaning of femininity is motherhood. that they shouldn't rest on the laurels of that education-they-paid-for but instead throw it away to kneel at a man's heel. imagine that. sweating in your godawful polyester gown (that you also had to pay for!), fresh out of 4 years of pushing yourself ever-harder: and some guy you've never met - who knows nothing about you - he reminds you this "win" is a pyrrhic one at best. you really shouldn't consider yourself that extraordinary. you're still a woman, even after years of study.

god forbid you are not a pretty woman, but if you are pretty, you must be dumb. god forbid you are not ablebodied or white or cis or straight or good at swallowing. you must be beneath a man, or else they are not a man. the equation for masculinity seems to just be: that which is not a woman or womanly (god forbid). anything "feminine" is thereby anathema. to engage in "feminine" things such as therapy, getting a hug from a friend, or crying - it is giving up ones manhood. therefore women need to be put in their place to ensure that masculinity is protected.

this is something i have struggled to explain to terfs - they are not doing the work of feminism, but rather the patriarchy. by asserting that women and men must be (on some secret level) oppositional and in conflict, they also assume that being a woman is akin to being another species. but bigotry does not stem from observational truths or clarity - that is what makes it bigotry. there was nothing in my childhood that made me fundamentally different from my brother. we are treated differently nonetheless. to assert there is some biological drive that enforces my gender role is to assert that women have a gendered role. men do not see women as equal to them not because of biological reality - but instead because the core tenant of the patriarchy is that women aren't full, realized people.

we are told from a very young age to excuse misbehavior as a single man's choice - not all men. it is not all men, just that one guy. all women are gold-digging bitches who belong in the kitchen - but if a man is mean, bigoted, or violent to you, it's just that particular guy, and that means nothing about men-as-a-whole. it is only one guy who got mad when you gently rejected him. it is only one guy who warns her this trophy is heavy, are you sure you can hold it? it is only one guy who smashes her face into the cake. it is only one guy talking into a mic about hating our bodily autonomy.

i have just found that they often wait until the moment we actually seem to be upstaging them. you sit in a meeting where you're presenting your own findings and he says get me a coffee? or you run to the end of the marathon and are about to finish first and he pushes your kids out in front of you. you win the chess game and they make some comment akin to well, you're ugly away. we can be the billionaire and get the dream life and finally fucking do it and yet! still! they have this strange, visceral urge to say well actually, if you think you're so great -

it's not one just one guy. it's one in eight.

[chloesimaginationthings]

Mike reminds Michael Afton of someone from FNAF 2,,,

[bluegiragi]

chasing tail.

early access + nsfw on patreon

[emacrow]

Tim whom is still banned from caffeine went into looking into other ways to get caffeine.

He went into anonymous source from someone name KingTuck4ever who talk about a energy drink that kept him up for weeks during a critical time of his life and Tim was at this point of desperate to spend any time of money he got.

Later that night, he received 6 very large Dark green boxes with a DP logo on it filled with Lightening Green tall soda cans with the name Ecto-Spark!, ingredients tags on the back, made with organic vegan products, DO NOT NEAR MEAT RELATED PRODUCTS, guaranteed to keep you caffeine deprived souls awake and alive enough to enjoy a night afterlife party! Or your money back.

Tim at the point didn't read the back as he pop open the top, smelling a strong scent of caffeine, carbonated bubble and a taste of lemon lime mixed with a tang flavor that had his mouth drowning nearly in drool.

He took only one experimental sip, before his eyes widen instantly and immediately began chugging the soda can for all the liquid caffeine it had inside. This was 1000 times better then Death Coffee Cup from his favorite Cafe that he was still banned from.

It felt like his whole body got electrified with energy and feel like he can run a whole 4 week marathon without breaking a sweat. This drink was like tasting nirvana after a week of being in a Gobi desert for his fucking soul.

.....

.....

.....

Bruce can never know about this. He can't tell anyone about this drink. Not Damian, Not dick, not step, maybe Jason, but Cass can kept a secret since she knew body language. He might possibly go rogue and kill Bruce himself if Bruce tried to take this from him.

Meanwhile Tucker was amazed of the total amount of money he received from the anonymous Caffine obsessed ghost. Usually he ended up receiving old relics, Egyptian related artifacts, gold coins, etc but this is a first he got actually modern day money.

Poor dude must've been recently form a core to spend that much money. Good thing he had send extra since he know how crazy those caffine-obsessed ghosts can be over the new drink he made specifically for himself, Sam and Danny but it's nice to have extra cash for new tech making. Especially since Danny became high king of the ghost zone when he became 20 year old, and the amount of paper works that had been left for dust collecting could filled a planet to the very brim.

Took him, Sam, Danny, Ghost writer and Techno 5 months to fully turn at least 26% of sacrifical gifts from ritual, contracts, conquests, complains from territorial ghosts about humans taking their land/house/property/or about their murder, help hundreds of ghosts stuck in their personal hell of a limbo of their own death, guy name Constantine whom was rapidly becoming a pain in Tucker's ass especially when he got one contract form his former previous life about this guy.

[bluerosefox]

Uncle Damian Mode ACTIVATE

Twins Danny and Damian but! They both know where the other is (Damian going to Bruce and Danny being sent to the Fentons on a mission at a young age), has kept in touch and all that.

They just...never got around to telling anyone about the other.

That is until Danny comes interrupting Damian on patrol one night in a panic, pushes a bundle into his arms and hurriedly says "Read our texts! It'll explain! I gotta go, got a fruitloop on my tail! Be back when I can!"

And rushes off. When Damian looks down at the bundle in his arm, ignoring the yelling on comms and Nightwing rushing over, he is stunned to see a almost identical face to that of his brother staring back at him, only he can tell its female from the more delicate features.

When he later reads the texts his brother sent during his patrol... well he's tempted to go fruitloop hunting but he has a niece to take of... and inform his father of his granddaughter he's currently holding.

[bigy-bigley]

THIS INTERACTION...

the way that this was literally the first thing i thought of

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I've never been more normal in my life.

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[chasiufan]

Nobody’s gonna buy ur 599$ marketable plushie stop tryna sell it to us -_-