#totally doable tho

[encyclop3dia]

maccready in fo4 watching me (armed with nothing but a boxing glove and buffout) complete the entire warehouse-clearing mission with him doing jack shit

[winemom-culture]

Me, kinda broke, looking at Disney passholder program options

[bam-stroker]

So I found out next year is going to be year of the dragon.... so this means I've gotta kick my shit into gear to make my dragon romance book happen in 2024

[datubooty]

a concept: autobiography divided by what fictional man i was obsessed with at the time and what that said about me

(is this a gentrified chronological kin list? no comment)

[akascow]

okay i just started episode 3 and this is really fucking good

the colors and cinematography and music is so good and pretty omg im giddy

oh Edge Of Sleep is out on amazon prime in the US early now if you werent aware

i didnt even know till i happened to pull up tiktok and i rarely go on tiktok now. ig he said in his new video but i forgor to watch it

but we should watch it i think idk

[daintylovers]

something about buzz cut stiles gives such intense munch vibes-like I know later season stiles is too but from the way buzz cut stiles treats lydia and pretty much any pretty girl, I just know he’s out in the rain begging for it fr. only problem is that when he DOES get the pussy he just can not stop 😭😭😭

REALLLLLLLL

not to sound harsh, but- buzzcut stiles is the biggest loser virgin i know. he wants it, and he wants it bad. like foaming at the mouth, practically cumming in his pants.

and ur so valid when you say he just can't stop after he's had a taste. but can you blame him??? like you just taste so good, and it's not something that can be recreated, you know? so he's got to savor every taste he gets.

it's borderline too much. cause it's not like he has the hair for you to pull on when it starts hurting a little from how sore you've become. this man can go for hours. he lives to be buried in between your thighs. also, just thinking, but this man would be obsessed with thick thighs. like the thicker the better. there's just something about being able to hold them that gets him going.

anyways tho- you're mewling and scratching at his scalp, cause it's too much but also not enough?? you're confused as hell. but he does not care.

let me repeat this. he. does. not. care.

he's in too deep and by the way you keep moaning, he knows he can get at least two more from you right? it's only been four, so a total of six is perfectly doable.

by the time he's finished, he's looking up at you through hooded eyes, lips glistening. his tongue keeps peeking out to lick at the excess. and he sees you, practically passed out from the intensity. and he feels on top of the world.

stiles isn't the type of guy to get ego boosts often, but this moment?? holy fuck, if he had a camera he would snap a million pics and cover his walls with them.

once you guys get cleaned up (him doing all the work), he's immediately thinking about ways to move around his schedule so this could happen again.

and again. and again.

[official-linguistics-post]

Hi! I've seen that you use they/them pronouns and I totally don't want to do an evil "you have to choose one" thing but i wanted to ask, do you have any preferences for what pronouns to be used in languages that do not have they/them?

My language is fusional & has grammatical gender and sometimes I talk about this blog to my fellow linguistic-ish friends and I always go either with "The person who runs that blog recently wrote[fem] ..." or "The human that made[masc] this... "

And I usually try to omit pronouns (tho "the person who runs that blog" becomes a mouthful and normally would be a "she") but I wonder if maybe you have preferances about that?

We don't really have a they/them here and most nonbinary folks use it/neopronoun (because "it" looks like masculine in other cases AND like feminine in plural so i think people either use gendered ones, something like herhim, or that one made up by sf author 20 years ago...) so that's doable too, beside the standard she/her and he/him

I hope this wasn't read as disrespectful and I can obviously keep going as I did (tho maybe you have preferance for being a she/her person or he/him human?)

hang on i need a second to process being Perceived [modem noises]

ok we're good. thank you for asking, this is a super interesting question!! without knowing the language myself, i'd probably default to whatever nonbinary/agender people in the language community use most often – "it" seems appropriate for me from the way you've described it, but even just swapping up gendered pronouns is an acceptable compromise!

[oh-no-its-bird]

Pspspspspps ooohhh you want to continue magical girl Izuna au sooooo badd (Using your own tactics against you is it working) just a haha silly idea but what if we got like idk 69 more seasons and 12 movies of magical girl Izuna totally doable I think personally. (Real)

I have a few other sketches I've done for this but this is the only sketch that looks remotely close to being good enough for outside eyes to see. Im probably gonna finish it at other time along with a tobiizu and a few odd Izuna and Amaterasu sketches I've also drawn from this au.

(P.s. without giving away too much information there is a hospital in Europe that's nightshift nursing staff is very aware of Magical girl Izuna because I just become a yapper when it's past 12 I guess)

IM SCREAMING AT THE TOP OF MY FUCKING LUNGS AT YOUR IZUNA OHHH YOU DREW HIM SO CUTE AND SO SILLY IM SOBBING INTO UR ARMS RN FUCK !!!!!

I AM BEGGING U TO SHARE ANYTHING WLSE U MADE FOR HIM IM ON MY ACTUAL KNEES PLS PLS PLS OHH YOU WANNA SHARE SOOO BADDD

IF you don't wanna post it u can totally always just dm it to me ,, 👁👁

ALSO THATS SO FUNNY OH MY GOD

The magical girl Izuna agenda spreads,,, like any good plague should were taking over the hospitals first

ANYWAYS TAKE SUSANOO CONTENT AS THANKS !!!! I designed him a while ago, tho dont ask me ab colors (probably gonna go with white hair and purple eyes to match Amaterasu's white hair and red eyes tho) but like!!! Holy shit the bastard of all time!!

(Pretty messy and with a different brush than usual bc I did it on mobile )

Madara wants to beat his ass 6 ways from Sunday but very unfortunatley can't

Man why can't he just learn to take a joke :// Susanoo is totally getting bored from all this vibe killing Madara and Hashirama are doing, like, omg chill?? It was literally just a prank.

[scentedpepper]

Hiiii I really liked ur recent lip fic so I had a request if it interests u :) it's probably pretty basic actually

Lip x male reader where reader is basically struggling to find a decent job because they're falling behind on bills so they become over stressed/overwork by their current shit job. This being something Lip can relate to he tries to comfort them/tries to get them to relax. (Totally not self reflecting haha 🧍🏻)

Fish.

LIP GALLAGHER X MALE READER

Summary: Lip knows when you're right and when you're wrong.

Content Warnings: None

AUTHOR NOTE(S):

Hey Anon 😼

Totally doable request

Gets a little angsty there for a sec cus I can't not put angst in my fics but yk

This has got to be the mushyest thing on my page so hopefully it's alright (^-^;

Allusiveness per usual..

The self projection is so real..

I'm glad you liked my last fic and I hope you find something that works for you soon tho!!

---------------------------------------------------

Fish.

That's the smell that immediately hits Lip upon entrance into the little studio apartment you call home.

Your cat stares at him, big eyed and blinking slowly from the peeled leather sofa with a blanket draped over it to hide the tweaks and imperfections of a Craigslist bought Lazy Boy.

If the boy was none the wiser, he'd assumed your place had been ransacked, burglarized and left with nothing but items not worth taking a second glance at. Though, it wouldn't be a half bad guess given that your front door was left open and there were clothes and trash strewn about the creaky floors, some of your furniture knocked out of place or even right on its side.

But he could hear you shuffling around the bathroom, knocking something over, the clatter of it to the floor, the less than enthusiastic curse from you and an internal groan that sounded like a hog dying as you bent down to pick it up.

–He wasn't sure how he'd heard that last one.

Intuition, perhaps.

Sheer connection, even.

But he wouldn't delve too much into that concept.

Despite the reality of its contents.

A sigh escapes him, he thinks, maybe one of these days, your recklessness will get you killed. But who is he to speak?

He locks the door from the inside before abandoning his shoes at the entryway, a task you never fail to stress upon to any guest who decides to stop in your home.

The cat is now perched comfortably on the end of your mattress, yawning and stretching as he makes sense of the newcomer in his house that just so happens to be intimately close with his owner.

Lip glances at his feet as he steps into the middle of the walkway, there's holes in his socks right where his toes protrude and they'd gone through their fair share of stitching and needless patching to keep them from slipping off his feet and turning into giant floppy gray lint brushes at his ankles.

Two people, similar living situations and yet two vastly different attitudes toward it.

He tries not to focus on that particular line of thought while he tucked his hands into his front pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels until you shut the bathroom door with a slam.

You're a sight for sore eyes, hair a disheveled mess, sunken in tired eyes, wearing nothing more than boxers, a white tee halfway up your arms when you pause abruptly at the sight of him.

"Hey. “

He finally acknowledges with a little side-smirk that immediately makes you feel a way that's contradictory to every single negative emotion running wild in your head.

You look at him quizzically, pulling your head through your shirt so you could breathe through the collar and clear away some of the exhaust building up after you tugged at your own hair like a horse suffering from some sort of brain-storm induced illness.

"Door was open. " He states the obvious, just to ease the awkward silence beginning to swallow you up.

In response, your eyebrows raise, tugging at your facial features and making your frown look even more drawn, and weary as your lips, that had seen better days, curl up in such a subtle, effortless smile that Lip fails to suppress his immediate burning response.

It's an ironic smile, but it charms your features nonetheless.

“Yeah.. I-” You clear your throat all the sudden, your sentence falling off into a mumble as you grab your hair before releasing it, only succeeding at making it less than structured. Your eyes dart around the room, suddenly aware of the chaos surrounding you. “Been busy. “

You move past him with rushed steps, partially knocking into the broom leant up against the wall, it clatters to the floor loudly behind you.

Lips eyes follow your frantic movement, tracking you as you stumble past him. The broom punctuates the silence like an exclamation point and he notices your cat jumping up out of his peripheral.

He doesn't move to pick it up. Instead, he stands there, hands still in his pockets as he watches you fumble with a stack of envelopes on the counter. He sees the tremble in your fingers despite the effort to suppress it, the tips pushing deep into the thick, yellow colored paper with bold, red text emblazoned on them.

“You know, “ Lip starts, voice low and measured, “I've got a pretty good idea about what those are. “

He steps over the broom, careful not to crowd you, the air between the two of you feeling heavy and charged.

Your shoulders tense at his words, a barely perceptible flinch. For a moment, the only sound is the soft padding of your cat's paws as he slinks away.

"Yeah?" Your voice is strained, almost challenging, but there's an underlying note of relief. Of being seen.

Lip's gaze drifts from the envelopes to the deep bags under your eyes, the knit in your brow, the stain in the creases of your face, to the worn-out shoes by the door, to the empty fridge humming in the corner. He finally settles back on you, confliction in the seas of his eyes.

“Look, “ he starts, then pauses, rubbing the back of his neck. You feel him get closer to you, his warmth invading your senses at once and you have to close your eyes at it.

He takes another step, less than half, not quite touching. An invitation, not a demand.

Your fingers trace the edge of the envelope as your mind blanks, for once. The paper's supposed to be rough, you know that, but you can hardly feel it with the way your fingers have calloused with the grime and weight of construction. You battle with your instincts, not moving an inch, freezing at his non touch touch.

“I have some extra cash from–”

“No. “

It's immediate. You don't think and your body instantly makes flee from him, the sizzling of the fake fish on the stovetop re-registering in your mind.

Lip doesn't flinch, but his eyes follow you as you retreat to the stove. The sizzling fills the silence between you, a mundane sound at odds with the emotional undercurrent.

"Okay. " He says softly, his tone careful but not placating. "No money. Got it. “

He leans against the counter, giving you space but not leaving. His presence is like a gravitational pull you're fighting against.

You focus on the fish, flipping it with more force than necessary. The spatula scrapes against the pan, a harsh sound that makes you wince.

"I don't need—" You start, then stop, unsure how to finish. Charity? Help? Him? All feel like lies on your tongue.

Lip waits, his patience a contrast to your agitation. When he speaks again, his voice is low, almost confessional.

"You know, when I was at my lowest, I couldn't stand the idea of anyone helping me either. ”

There's something so melancholy in his voice, a darkness creeping into the depths of the ocean that usually swims with his gaze that draws your attention, once again, back to him and his story.

He pushed himself off the counter, coming just a little closer to you with gentle steps like he's scared to startle you into abandoning him for a second time.

"It sucked, " he goes on, "It felt like shit, it made me feel even shittier. "

Then he's behind you and he isn't reaching for you, isn't touching you and it's even more dizzying than if he just was.

You shut the burner off and slump, feeling smaller as his breath ghosts across your skin.

The fish continues to sizzle, filling up the gaps where you don't speak, almost like it's speaking for you.

He's an inferno, a personal sun, everything burns in his orbit, you're convinced.

But you don't like the heat, the tension.

So, instead, you stand straight with a grimace as you say,

"What're you here for, Lip?" You glance at the clock on your stove. "It's nearly midnight. "

His eyes trail down your neck and he says nothing.

Everything goes quiet. So quiet, that when you tilt your head away from him, you catch the cat staring blankly at the two of you with his tongue out and drool pooling on the ground beneath it.

You press your lips together as your brows, furrowed, meet the bridge of your nose with creases and wrinkles you've picked up from excessive worrying.

"Here for a hookup?" You don't face him as you say this, instead you busy yourself with retrieving a plate but fail to find a clean enough looking one amongst the pile of dishes in your sink and settle for a coffee filter instead.

"Jesus christ, Y/N. “ He leans forward so he's sure you can hear every word he says. "Stop projecting your shit onto me. "

Ouch.

Your lips purse, pulling down to a flat, disapproving line at that.

"You're an asshole. “

You place the faux fish on the makeshift plate with a slightly shaking hand and then turn to him, looking him in the eye in distraught before you're speeding past him again, to the couch to rip the blanket you've got on there back over the chipping surface before you finally land on it, slumping into the battered cushions with a huff and a deep, tired sigh that has him blinking at you.

The cat has since vacated the premises upon the third trip you made around your apartment, choosing to go do gods knows what over sitting on his owner's lap which is even more distressing than anything Lip had seen on his way over, or once he had actually stepped inside.

For a moment he stands awkwardly in the kitchen, staring at the back of your head, unable to fathom what you must be thinking, so he ponders, maybe trying to relieve some of that pressure instead.

"Why does this—" he catches his own sentence, having almost used the words "make you", and quickly removes that option from use. "How's your stress lately?" Is the question he elects to ask instead.

"Stress doesn't bother me. "

You lie, blatantly, blatantly lying.

He clicks his tongue, finally removing himself from the stagnant stance and strolling toward you.

One foot before the other, before the other, before the next and the next and the next, finally finding himself within the circle that surrounds your worn out couch.

"Come on. " Lip grunts lowly, eyeing the coffee table you're sat before that's cluttered with junk, and half gone boxes of garbage, with rags and bottles, stray pens and hair ties.

"Lip–"

"Lemme see. " He hums at the sight of an empty plate with something half burnt and some sort of vegetable fried in butter but otherwise undistinguishable. He's pretty sure he might have to scrape it off from how long it's been sitting there, hardening.

"I didn't say you could help clean my shit. " You warn him, trying to maintain a certain sort of coldness even though there was no way of disguising the way your shoulders lessened at his voice, or the way your back pushed in further in the seat.

That's okay. He liked your stubbornness more and more with each passing minute.

You kept him on his toes.

He sighs in response, mumbling out a comment he kept to himself over your unwillingness to accept some kind of help; like you were starving– dehydrated.

He kneels slowly in front of you and reaches out his hands until your body stiffens and then wilts underneath them.

For the sake of your pride and that stubborn resistance to accept any amount of comfort, or to even bring up the fact that Lip is, in some ways, your rock.

He can do that for you, he tells himself. He likes being relied on by someone.

Someone who needs him in a way you never let anyone see because you had this notion to keep it all locked away inside of you like you could be dependable, like you were all you had.

"Listen to me. " He takes the tasteless fish away from you and for a moment you look appalled and ready to snap, but then he grabs your hands from your lap and slides his fingers along your palms and the fight is gone at that instant.

Your eyes glaze, darkening the circles underneath and he can't help but tug you away from the makeshift plate, from the furniture, the piles of stuff on the ground, the stack of boxes in the corner, the scattered clothing and the woes of your life.

Before you know it, his arms are cradling you and his warmth, his body heat, his scent, it's all encompassing.

"You don't gotta be perfect, you know?"

You grit your teeth when he says this, laying limp like a baby on your half living room, half bedroom floor with your face buried against his collar as he practically lay above you, holding you.

"Stop. " You force out, then a second time and a third before you can get anything more coherent from your lips.

He quiets you each time with another and another gut wrenching statement and soon, your intensities are practically splayed out across the stained, Dollar Tree carpet.

"It's not anything I can't handle. "

"I'm sure you can– you always find a way. " He shifts a bit, but it doesn't disrupt your hold on him. "But it's okay to need help every once and awhile. It's okay. Even to ask for it. "

"Lip, I just—”

He hears the anger in your tone, and he shushes you with a coo like noise and a slight nod of his head.

"I can't find a fucking job. " You mutter a few moments later into his shoulder, where his hands had snaked up into your hair so he could run the pads of his fingers along your scalp.

He nods, sympathetic, "You'll find something. You'll figure it out. "

"What the fuck am I doing wrong?" Your fingers raise from the carpet in silent resentment as you ask this, reaching up to claw at the thin, coarse fabric adorning his chest.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You're fucking great. The problem isn't you. Okay?"

"Sure, " You sigh, gripping onto his shoulders tighter, pulling his torso closer to you. "You say that because you think you'll hurt my feelings if you say anything else. "

"That's not true. " Lip snickers, sliding the hand back from where he was gently squeezing the back of your neck to play around with your hair instead. "If I was, we wouldn't be talking right now. You know?“

"Right. " You sniffle, a bit of a laugh bubbling up within the depths of your chest. "Because your heart belongs to anyone other than yourself? Doubt it. "

And the snark causes a giggle to erupt into the quiet of your little studio apartment.

You can smell him. His smell is like his scent mixed with coffee and sugar– for those Mondays when you want a treat, but are too lazy to walk the three blocks to the bakery for anything different than a cup of joe.

"Wow. " He snorts in return, resting his forehead against the top of your head where your nose met the tuffs of his curly, messy looking hair. "You're lucky I like you. "

"Uh huh. " A strained chuckle pushes past your lips, eyes sliding shut as your hands find his hips.

The sound of your heart beating in your ear is all you can hear as his fingers clasp around the sides of your face.

Everything is calming, cathartic. His demeanor is like honey; it runs down your bones, seeping into your open wounds and they begin to grow a bit plumper under the heat.

"Sometimes I just—" you pause, the feeling of his thumbs stroking back and forth across your jawline is too distracting for you to pay attention to the fact that you're trying to get your point across, "feel like there's something bad coming? Something coming for me, you know?"

"Yeah, " he blinks, hands gliding from your cheeks to the underside of your ears. "I know what you mean. "

His hands flatten, then run down until they find the collar of your shirt and a part of you relaxes as his fingertips stroke the outer lining of the stretched fabric.

"I get the same feeling too. " He adds, voice, so wonderfully low, rumbling from deep within his chest. "All the time. " He sighs quietly, rocking a bit.

"I'm gonna help you. " His eyes are dilated, even against the muted white ceiling light that hung above the two of you. You don't think twice to notice. “Get something going. Something solid. “

"Lip. " You choke a bit on the inside as he says this, turning your head to the right.

"I know you don't need it, but I want to. "

Against your better judgment, you take a dive and glance him right in his eyes and he doesn't falter.

It surprises you, then it doesn't.

A short sharp intake, air filling your lungs and Lip smiles. Just a sliver of skin at the edges of his lips. You take note of his change of expression immediately.

"When was the last time you had something actually good to eat?”

You narrow your gaze at him, ready to throw back an answer at his statement when he silences you by raising his hand up, index finger flying to shush you as he points at something past the two of you.

When you turn to look, you see your cat lapping his sandpaper tongue on your fish, seemingly enjoying it more than you had been.

"Been awhile for him too, apparently. "

You groan quietly, leaning back into him where the sound of his beating heart feels like music from some unknown realm your tired mind couldn't hope to understand.

"C'mon, " Lip nudges you gently.

"I'll get you something to eat. “

[theoxenfree]

final verdict of mouthwashing:

YO, MAN. WHAT THE FUCK

total gameplay time: steam is clocking me at 3.5hrs; realistically, most players will probs finish in under 2.5hrs.

overall rating: 4.2/5

gore rating: 4.5/5

fucked up rating: 4.7/5

LITERALLY BIGGEST SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT + other notes.

if you just want to know: would I recommend you spend the money to play this? yes, but, you've gotta be able to handle some pretty immense gore.

realistically, this game is extremely linear and from what I've looked up after finishing, there is only one actual ending to the game. you aren't really given much choice in the things you do, but to be fair, some of the stuff that looked like you may have been able to do (e.g. feed curly isopropyl alcohol vs the painkillers(, I didn't venture with.

steam clocked me at 3.5hrs for the playthrough, but without my additional time to wander around, trying to interact with everything possible + some of the gameplay being fucking annoying (e.g. cargo haul and graveyard) I'd say the realistic play time is closer to 2-2.5hrs total.

there really aren't any options for things. the devs had a script and a plot in mind and went full throttle with it. in this case, I really appreciated it, bc this is the sort of story that can easily overwhelm players they'd been loaded up with different endings and choices.

because the game was made using unity, the gameplay was mostly smooth throughout, despite the N64/PS1 graphics lmao. the main map of the game is pretty straightforward, you don't really need to memorize it bc it's basically a circuit.

there were a couple of maps in the game that were frustrating bc, like, solutions and moving forward with the storyline weren't immediately doable. but, even those didn't hold me up too long.

they were annoying enough to take a cut into the overall rating tho. they interrupted the immersion of the story.

I like the dimension that the devs gave the characters, particularly anya and swansea. daisuke had some background and motivations throughout the story, but I feel like he was made for you to feel sorry for by the end.

swansea is fascinating bc he's deemed the central antagonist of the game (wrong, but also not wrong). verbally abusive. former alcoholic. mean, ugly guy who you receive more clarity on as the game progresses. I won't say he is "redeemed" by the end, as I think he stays thoroughly unlikeable, but, y'know, at least he's honest until the end with some smidge of kindness to him.

anya is a... tragic character and part of me feels deeply for her story, but I'm also partly miffed by it. there are some nasty implications throughout the game, so player beware.

but, christ, even how the game ended with him was unkind and just straight up evil.

curly, MY MAN, I cannot be normal about him bc the way he suffered throughout the game was absolutely obscene—in the worst way possible. like, I kept hoping he was going to receive mercy at some point before the end and then the rest of the game was just jimmy's fucking delusions

also tho, real talk, fuck curly for not manning up and beating the shit out of jimmy after he learned what happened to anya. literally homeboy is perpetuating stupid "don't sell out your bros" shit bc he and jimmy were friends

jimmy can rot in hell, I have thoughts on this motherfucker and his character. so, if you want to know, feel free to ask, but just know

what an absolute fucking bastard 💀

one thing I'm sort of back and forth on with the game was its use of time skips—both forward and back. I'm not overly fond of those in games or writing, but they were able to keep it clean enough that I wasn't confused about the timeline of events, which was quite nice.

this game excelled primarily at gore and atmosphere. there are a couple of scenes that I'd describe as "chases" and a few "jump" moments, but it isn't a traditional horror game in which you're running from Big Bad. it depends heavily upon atmosphere and claustrophobia and just that foreboding sense of doom that gets you from the first minutes in.

the gore is nothing to laugh at.

it is disgusting and distressing and merciless. and take my word for it, as someone who is highly desensitized to this sort of stuff, it's intense. and if you can't handle that, it's gonna be a rough ride for you.

[stonerskinny]

brekky @ 6:30am

262.5 this morning. sigh

supposed to break my fast in 4.5 hours (11am) but think i will push it to noon bc that feels better. will end at 81 hrs which is fine. would prefer to push through until tmrw but reality is i probably would binge and i’d rather not undo the progress i have re-made.

now i am simply sitting outside smoking a cig and listening to music and fucking shivering bc it’s so goddamn cold rn. like wdym it’s 58 degrees bro it’s august. will prob go back inside at 7 and walk. or just go for a real outside walk instead before the sun totally comes up idk.

i have this terrible fear that i ate something at some point during this fast and just don’t remember it.

therapy this morning will be interesting. she’ll be happy to hear i have only been weighing myself once a day but she will not be happy to hear i have not eaten in 3 days so i will simply omit that information.

will be breaking my fast with half of a yogurt (40) and then because i am Stupid i will probably just start another one. only like 24 hrs tho probably idk it kind of depends on what my weight is tomorrow. if im in the 261s then i can do another yogurt but if not then i’ll try for 48hrs instead probably.

would be kind of slay to lose the entire 8lb i gained in four days. could be fun idk! i’m 1.5 away so it’s like theoretically doable but idk if i’ll get so lucky.

n e way. i will stop rambling now. good morning ☀️

[talesfromthecrypts]

I’m imagining Toon Force killer being very Looney Toons esque but nothing wrong with classic rubber hose gags either. Like I want it to get blown up and when the dust settles it’ll have its face blown the other way and have to twist it back the right way before doing a devilish grin. Or there’s a gun fight and he just whips out a giant gun and then the classic Bang flag pops out. The victim thinks it’s all fine then, they just get impaled by the Bang flag. Or they’re about to kill him and then he escapes by running into a wall mural like Roadrunner. I would assume it’s expensive to animate tho.

It could be expensive but we've had the tools for such things for almost 100 years (perfected with Roger Rabbit of course). With the right team something like that could be pulled off really well. I've done animation work and it can be a lot of work and long hours but totally doable. I mean, the guy who directed the skydiving portion of V/H/S: Beyond did all the CGI for the aliens from his own computer, so something like this is totally doable on an indie budget.

[likeadevils]

do u have to be rich to attend eras lol? i'm asian and don't have a reference for the americanand european side of things. cus if the tickets aren't pricey enough, there's also traveling and accommodation and stuff, especially if it's out of state/country. e efytime i see ppl talk about going for a 2nd or 3rd time (especially out of country!!) my brain's knee jerk reaction is to be like "oh they're well off." and it's baffling how many people and mutuals seem to be well off lol. am i right or are there actually cheap budget friendly alternatives? im guessing they're not widespread tho?

you don’t have to be rich, but if you’re not, you either have to be lucky or reckless. i’ve managed to see her 3/4 times now (depending if you count from the parking lot), and i’ve just sorta lucked into getting face value tickets each time? that’s just down to having friends get presale/local codes so they can buy them directly from taylor instead of paying resale prices— i had floor tickets for ~$700, lower bowl for ~$200, and then nosebleeds for fairly cheap, i don’t remember the number. all the shows have been within a couple days drive from me, and i’ve split most of the gas and all of the hotel fees with other people, so i haven’t had any insane travel costs. adding up gas and hotels and the tickets themselves i think i’ve spent maybe ~$1600 dollars total? which is like, definitely a stretch but still doable. the problem is, it’s fucking hard to find face value tickets, and you kinda gotta be and know a bunch of insane swifties that will sit in queues for hours to get tickets.

if you can’t find face value tickets, the reckless option is ✨credit card debt✨, which i am so genuinely terrified of, but is fairly common in america. just, you know, put it on a credit card and then don’t pay it off and deal with the consequences of that later

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

I'm the anon who asked the question about empathy a few hours ago. Thanks for getting back to me, and with such a detailed response too. I think that it was really helpful.

I don't want to hurt anyone, especially with my beliefs - I just wanted to make that clear. A lot of people told me that I should go into therapy because I'm good at telling people what they should do in a situation, and because I can understand why people feel the way that they do. I'm already almost halfway through a Psychology bachelor's degree that I love - even if I don't end up becoming a therapist, I wouldn't regret learning more about psychology for a second.

Honestly, I mostly wanted to become a therapist for me - so that I can learn how to be more empathetic, and talk to more people so that I can learn more about them and not judge them so much, stuff like that. It's not the best motivation, and I know that. I really want to get over my beliefs - I know that they're hindering me more than anything. I think that the only way that I can get over my beliefs is to learn more about people who aren't like me. I completely understand why you don't want me to be a therapist - I've never really wanted to be a therapist either. I've been pretty terrified at the prospect of it, actually. Would you recommend something like a psychology professor, or a researcher, by any chance, or should I avoid those areas of psychology too? I'll absolutely learn more about abolition and psych abolition.

I think a lot of people say "you should be a therapist" to folks who are decent listeners/who give good advice because they have no idea of what it actually means to be a therapist. Being a therapist can for sure include those things, but honestly, I find a lot of the people who go into the field on that basis eventually realize they are in way over their heads and become pretty miserable in their work. It's a hard field to have healthy boundaries/self care in as it is, and people deserve to go into it because they know what they're asking of themselves, not just because others make blasè/uninformed comments.

If you're scared of the idea of *having* to be a therapist, I definitely think you shouldn't be. No one who fears the field is likely to do well there, even with effective skill building, which I really do want to emphasize is totally doable! It sounds like you're passionate about the subject matter, but aren't necessarily into the practicum aspects of the work, which I think is totally reasonable! Psychology is fascinating! And it can be so valuable as a field of study even if you don't use it as a direct 1:1 in your employment later on.

If you enjoy the learning, I think you'll enjoy the process of expanding your understanding into the realms of psych abolition/anti-psych. It can be hard to sit with criticisms of fields and knowledge that we're passionate about, but I think it makes us better, both as people and as learners to do so! So I hope you find the same!

As far as going into academia goes, personally, I don't recommend it for anyone, not because folks aren't suited to it, but because capitalism has made the process of working in the ivory tower a hellscape unlike anything you'll ever see. There are 7 jobs, none of them involve actual research so much as writing 10,000 grants per year and jockying with the 500,000 other desperate post-docs for funding and name recognition, and no one gets tenure anymore. We used to scare people straight with threats of publish or perish, but honestly, I kinda long for the days of mere PoP toxicity? Like, at least then there was a chance that you would get to do work on something you actually cared about rather than getting assigned to the same 5 projects that demand you sacrifice your integrity AND the world's future somehow.

Edit to add: my undergrad was in research anthropology, and while I definitely made moves towards academia over my career I'm *really* glad I didn't end up there. That's me tho! Not everyone else.

There are people who make academia (professorships/research positions) work, and maybe you're dedicated enough to be one of them! But to be honest, the reality is that most of us go to school and get degrees and then we get jobs that are AT MOST tangentially related to those degrees. Mostly we use our degrees for hobbies, mental stimulation, and self-growth/development. That's.....really fine. There's plenty of fulfilling jobs out there that you can find. They don't have to be exactly what your degree was in, and frankly careers are often a long line of continuing educational opportunities anyway.

There are also tons of legit ways to use a psychology degree that have nothing to do with therapy or academia! They're just like. Applied psychology jobs, not direct psychology jobs. That's fine too!

I think a lot of people go into psych and pigeon-hole themselves. I'd really recommend against that. The private sector has a ton of jobs that pay decently, have reasonable hours, and won't ask you to go back for a master's or a PhD and *even more student debt*. Why force yourself to go into the parts of the industry that - truly - SUCK SO FUCKING HARD if you aren't willing to tear yourself apart for them? Life doesn't need to be lived on hard mode.

[sergeantsporks]

Took a while to track down this train of thought but I managed it. ANYWAYS. Do you think curses are curable/way more treatable as a general rule? (I’m sure there are still nasty ones you can’t get rid of but I’m suggesting that the majority aren’t lifelong conditions). And do you think that no one could get rid of Eda’s curse because it’s Collector Magic & thus just alien enough to be outside the scope of anything beyond suppression? (Tho if that’s the case: King or another Titan could do smth)

Hmmmmmm I always kind of considered a sort of "Hexes Vs Curses" kind of thing where Hexes are temporary things, while Curses are more long lived. Though thinking now, I can't remember if "hexes" have ever been mentioned outside of hexes hold 'em or hex mix, so I might just be thinking of my own worldbuilding stuff.

But yeah, given that Eda states most magic tales in the human realm are a result of BI stuff leaking through, I can imagine that there ARE curses that can be broken under specific circumstances, the way curses in fairy tales can be broken by true loves kiss or throwing a cursed person into a wall (which, given the Isles' track record, a curse with the second's conditions seems far more likely). Lilith says it was "just supposed to last a day," so I imagine that not all curses are serious, if that's what she expected. Probably there's like a range of severity, and since Gwen thought she could break Eda's curse, and Hunter thought he could break Belos' "curse," I imagine there are experts in curse breaking and it's a totally doable thing in most circumstances, with the aforementioned 2 being weird

I wonder if Eda's curse may have less to do with it being Collector magic (although I'm almost certain that's PART of it), and more to do with the fact that the curse is a living creature, turned into a curse, put on a witch. It's not a magical construct or some kind of transformation curse, it's a creature who's been robbed of its physical body struggling to regain its form by using the body of the witch it's been put in. You CAN'T get rid of it because there's nowhere for it to GO, and it needs to be PUT somewhere. Maybe the original Collector who put the Owl Beast into a scroll could undo it (perhaps separate the beast from Eda and put it back in a scroll), but we know our Collector can't.

While my initial thought was "Titan magic cancels out Collector magic, so maybe King CAN break the curse," unfortunately, the curse isn't JUST Collector magic anymore. Maybe it was in the scroll, but now, it's Lilith's magic aided by the Collector's magic, and it's also all of Eda's magic that it's eaten. So I don't think King will be able to just undo it.

[eulchu]

As someone with ADHD and that has problems people pleasing and double booking if I falted Dream and got mad at him for trying to do more than it's realistically doable, I'd be a huge hypocrite because I do that all the fucking time!

And I'm older than him so the "he's an adult he should know better" argument doesn't fly either.

He's human, he's gonna make mistakes and disappoint people. It's normal. The only difference is that a lot more people are looking and noticing his mistakes. When I agree to be in a friend's project at the same time as a family dinner on the night before an important exam at university, I'm disappointing 5 to 15 people at most.

Dream's audience is way larger than that, but that doesn't mean his mistakes are any different than mine. And if my friends can understand and forgive me, same as when they do the same to me and i forgive them, why wouldn't I extend that sentiment to him? Just because he's famous?

"but it's his job" well, what are you gonna do? Fire him? The other stuff he's busy with is probably work related as well so yeah, squid craft is probably just lower on his work priority list. And he's still trying to attend, he didn't say he's 100% not participating. Chill

Feeling disappointed is totally normal and valid, but that's where it's stops. Being disappointed doesn't give you the right to lash out, be rude or agressive towards Dream. Because even tho his actions caused you to feel that way. It's not his responsibility to cater to it, to compensate you or anything. It's not his fault.

If you're angry and crying and throwing a fucking tantrum over some change in plans, that's a you problem fam. Go to therapy to learn how to deal with frustration, idk.

(this is all @ the crybaby anon btw)

IT'S NOT HIS RESPONSIBILITY TO CATER TO IT SAY IT LOUDERRRR ANON