#thinking about missing class again

[theshadowrealmitself]

I think a lot of Vulcans are like the “you’ve come to me with a problem, first instinct is to fix it” type to a more extreme, especially if the problem involves emotions

So when I imagine scenarios of like. a Vulcan going to the restroom during a fancy party and seeing an attractive Human crying in it, and it turns out they don’t see themselves as attractive because their date keeps complimenting everyone else a ton but only told them “nice outfit” and it got to them

And the Vulcan is just like “I have to fix this” and they start thinking of the problem like ‘Human thinks they’re unattractive > they aren’t so nothing can be done to their appearance to make them feel better > they feel unattractive because of their date > they need a better date’ and they just tell the Human “I am your date now, I will tell you how attractive you are without excessively complimenting others so that you feel inferior, so you will no longer have to experience this emotional turbulence”

And they just walk back to their table with a cute Human on their arm who looks like they were crying but is now beaming, getting together speedrun

[roses-luckride-art]

She scare on my crow till I hroo hraa [explodes]

Below the cut is the image, but without the textures and color overlays!

[judasisgayriot]

Pole Out Boy and their missed calling in life (x) (Pete: (The new record's) definitely a lot sexier than the last one. Patrick: There's a lot more slinky outfits, and, you know, garter belts.)

[raiiny-bay]

some WIPs from the 80s AU i never finished

[iamfuckingsorry]

Thinking about that mural from DE

You know which one

TRUE LOVE IS POSSIBLE ONLY IN THE NEXT WORLD, FOR THE NEW PEOPLE. IT IS TOO LATE FOR US. WREAK HAVOC ON THE MIDDLE CLASS

The next world mural. In the game, you encounter this piece very early on if you interact with everything available, you probably see this mural before you've ever even heard of Dora or before you've started to get really serious about your commie tendencies, if that's how you choose to play. And the reaction is like, "wow, this is kinda profound actually". Or maybe it's like, "oh lol, this game really is commie af isn't it" (even though later on it turns out that the game is much more critical of communism than you'd think at first). And the story in the ledger provides some insight into Harry and Jean and how they work together too, so it feels like it makes sense, it fits in very well at that moment in the game and that's it.

But looking back at this mural after you've played through the entire game, knowing what you know of Harry's relationship with Dora...

It's Harry's own fucking love story in a way, isn't it?

Him and Dora came from very different backgrounds. He's genuinely poor, grew up checking the trash cans on the streets for tare and edible food, spent his teenage years running around with a bunch of kids who all OD'd or got themselves killed one way or another over the years. He had dreams of getting an education, getting a chance to use his creativity and curiosity and learn about all that that is worth exploring in this world (which is everything), but those dreams are long dead. She's solidly middle class, with access to all the education and art and music he's always dreamt of, with her family to always fall back on. She's everything Harry's ever dreamt of growing up. She might as well be living in another world.

They fall in love with each other and she moves to Jamrock to live with him. Jamrock, the biggest fucking ghetto in Revachol, full of tweakers and gangsters and just thousands upon thousands of poor people permanently down on their luck trying to get by, with no proper aid or government and a police station so understaffed and underfunded they never even stood a chance. And they can barely make ends meet even living in Jamrock, moving from shithole to shithole, never knowing when they'll have their electricity cut, when something will happen that gets them thrown out, desperately scrambling for a new place to stay. And Dora could never do that, not really - she never actually lived in Jamrock, she always had the possibility of leaving, of going to work across the river and visiting her parents whenever she felt like it or just escaping, packing her shit and getting on the tram and never going back. And as long as she knew she wasn't really, truly stuck in this miserable shithole forever, she wasn't ever really living in Jamrock. And it could never be enough for her.

And she wanted more - for herself, for Harry, for their family, who even knows. Maybe she saw Harry struggling trying and failing to make a difference as a gym teacher and thought he could do more good with the RCM. Maybe she was getting desperate, living in this fucking shithole, and thought they needed more money. Maybe it was something completely else - but what is certain is that Harry ended up joining the RCM, and the 41st, and everyone there is on speed, everyone is miserable and desperate and always running behind playing catch up with the case load, with the crimes, with the drug addicts and rapists and murderers, and Harry, who's always been like this close to a genuine mental breakdown, just fucking falls apart. He needs to help people, needs to make a difference, and working at the 41st, with the budget and case load and staffing situation and the pure fucking misery in the area. He goes out and meets a miserable person after a miserable person and he can't do anything else than be nice, make their day a little bit more manageable, do his best- but he knows that no matter what he does, his best won't be enough. He won't be able to make a dent in the pure fucking misery that is Jamrock. But he needs to, so he drinks, he smokes, he does drugs, he loses any semblance of control he ever had over the voices in his head, the dude telling him to hit shit and the dude telling him to forget everything and just get fucked up and Revachol herself screaming at him about her imminent death. And in the end Dora can't stand it anymore and she leaves (and, honestly, good for her. I'm happy for her. But this is about Harry, and Harry isn't, he isn't able to be happy for her at this point in time).

And like. I personally doubt that she'd have left just because of the money if everything else was good. I honestly even doubt that the money was that big of an issue for her to start with, it was all the other issues first and then the fact that they couldn't even rent a fucking VHS and play it at times became just one more thing on top of this already massive pile of shit that broke the proverbial camel's back. But in Harry's mind, he was never rich enough for her. She was always the middle class girl who settled for the poor fuck, and he was never gonna be good enough for her because he was just a broke dude from Jamrock. She was perfect and so so beautiful and at one point her love was the only thing keeping him going, and then she left because he couldn't even

And from what we can see in the game she was the only person he's ever really, truly loved.

But in his mind, they could never be together again. They could try as they might, but it was never gonna work out, because she was a rich girl and he was just a poor miserable fuck. He grew up looking for change on the streets, she took piano lessons in a fancy part of town. The difference was just too large to ever truly be bridged.

So for post-breakup Harry, prior to Martinaise and even during the events in Martinaise, true love was never actually possible. It is possible only for the new people, in the next world. It was too late for him - he had his chance, and it was an impossible thing, it could never have worked out and now he's wasted it. Because of the inherent differences between different social classes. It is too late for him. So yeah, fuck it, wreak havoc on the fucking middle class. Fuck those rich bastards who took Dora from him, and fuck Dora too.

On another note, this was also one of the most recent cases him and Jean worked on prior to Martinaise. I don't remember the date exactly, but it was in his last ledger, it must have been pretty recent. Do you think he saw the mural and thought about it the same way I did? Maybe this was the one that truly pushed him over the edge? The impossible love. It truly was too late for him. The only way to fix it is a new fucking start. And how do you get that?

After life - death. After death - life again.

[muscariii]

I realised that I never really post any traditional art so here's some things I made this month.

Lately I've been drawing with an ink pen I found in my room (I don't know how old it is but it works so that's cool). I'm really into drawing these weird planets/orbs with it because honestly it's just really relaxing and I guess it's almost like stimming to me? I recommend it.

I've also been working on improving designs of my ocs and doing some worldbuilding so there's a few drawings of Diphy here.

[dostimesnoah]

if nothing else, double exposure has awoken inside me the idea of "divorced dad energy" max caulfield. drawings of this idea to come.

[guillemelgat]

I just started a new semester, and I'm finally getting the chance to take Malayalam, which I've been trying to do since my undergrad. This is obviously a very exciting development, and it's so delightful to be in a language class again for the first time in ages, but it's also been a very unique experience as far as language classes go. First of all, for me, who is generally used to having very odd personal connections to a language and being the overachieving linguist of the class. And second of all because it's just a very different experience to be in a class largely oriented towards heritage learners and people with some cultural familiarity.

There are five people in the class. Of those five, four have Malayalee family and have had some exposure to Malayalam throughout our lives; the last person is a native speaker of another non-Dravidian South Asian language. Of the four of us who are Malayalee, I'm basically the only one who didn't have a significant amount of Malayalam at home growing up. What this means is that we've spent very little time on the phonetics of the language, because everyone roughly knows how to pronounce it - something which wouldn't be true if there were non-South Asian in the class! (It was a bit comforting to hear all the other Malayalees struggling with aspirated consonants, which have constantly been the bane of my existence, and then to hear the instructor say that few people pronounce them right in spoken Malayalam anyways.) The instructor could ask us to say things on the first day, and the more fluent speakers could say them. There is already Malayalam being mixed in with the instruction. I'm sure by the end of the semester we'll be having extended conversations - especially since the two of us who don't speak have very concrete communicative desires for our outside lives.

It's also a very scary experience for me, personally. Or maybe scary isn't quite the right word, but I've always felt out of my depth in claiming Malayalee heritage - I've always felt that there were so many things which I didn't know which any normal Malayalee would. There is no evidence that this is true, at least insofar as that my cousins with two Malayalee parents have wildly varying experiences and I'm not actually that far outside the norm. In most American spaces, I will never be clocked as white, and most people usually immediately identify me as South Asian. Nonetheless, I know that when I visited Kerala this past December, I was decidedly foreign - to the two guys speaking in rapid-fire Malayalam on the flight from Qatar, to the person at the immigration counter in Trivandrum, even to my own relatives. Part of it is a mental block on my part, of feeling myself foreign and therefore never letting myself belong. Part of it is that I am, ultimately, American. But either way, in this class, I can feel that I'm the American in the room, even when I'm not, even when my pronunciation is just as good as the other Malayalees and there's nothing that's telling me I can't belong. I keep freezing up when asked to say real things, or when people speak to me, because there's some unreachable standard in my brain of Not A Real Malayalee, and everything feels fraught and fragile. So maybe this semester will be about overcoming that.

It's still strange being in a language class where the instructor, on the first day, can look at you all and say, "You know why you're here, you want to be here, we all have a shared experience." But it's also a beautiful thing in its own way, and I'm really looking forward to taking on a language in this way. I love the structure and the logic of language, the puzzle of putting it together, the beauty of making friends in it and watching shows in it and listening to songs in it - but as I get older I find myself really reflecting on what it means to learn and to know a language. And sometimes those barriers to learning and to knowing are only in our minds, not in our worlds. Language is communication and connection, and I hope that Malayalam serves me to these two ends, even as it sometimes feels like a trial by fire at each word.

[horsegirlhob]

Honestly the worst thing about being raised by and around professors is that I can't really do the whole students bitching about professors thing even when I mostly agree with it, because my whole life I have been hearing the professor's side of the story. Every time someone talks about how ridiculous mandatory attendance or participation is there's a part of me that starts loudly protesting about how actually being in class is really important for learning, and it must be so hugely frustrating for the professor when students just don't show up to your class half the time and then when they do show up they're playing sudoku on their computer.

[hurtspideyparker]

My #3 song on Spotify Wrapped was My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys, and I'll have you know I think about SteveTony every. single. time. I listen to it. So what I'm saying is I spent A LOT of time angsting about Stony this year (it's also a perfect Stucky and Cherik song). In summary: when I catch you Steve Rogers when I catch you >:/ 🫵👊

Oh, here we go again. / The voices in his head / Called the rain to end our days of wild

But you should've seen him / When he first got me

Should've known it was a matter of time / Oh, my boy only breaks his favorite toys

There was a litany of reasons why / We could've played for keeps this time / I know I'm just repeating myself

And I'll tell you that he runs / Because he loves me.

Cause you should've seen him / When he first saw me

Cause I knew too much / There was danger in the heat of my touch / He saw forever so he smashed it up

Once I fix me, he's gonna miss me

Just say when, I'd play again / He was my best friend / Down at the sandlot / I felt more when we played pretend / Than with all the Kens / Cause he took me out of my box / Stole my tortured heart / Left all these broken parts / Told me I'm better off

But I'm not

I'm not

I'm not.

MCU Steve being a close friend (lover) to Tony for years and then throwing it all away and crushing his heart to pieces for Bucky. And then leaving BUCKY for Peggy. He plays with his favourite toys until they're smashed and ugly, then leaves them for a new shiny thing.

[minophus]

ohh my god. i just saw suuch a goofy sisytake(sisyphus take). "he's accepted that he likes killing" I mean i dont know if id put it like that.

[crescentfool]

happy birthday to my favorite horseboy 🥳

[e77y]

The visceral and hungering loneliness is back. You know what that means! Bedtime

[folkloregirlfriend]

why did i leave dance classes

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

WHY CANT MY BRAIN BE FUCKING NORMAL

[llatimeria]

just doing some thinking about the adderall shortage