#kernels of brainrot

[cornislost]

the crk worm got me and i drew sugarfly as a silver tree knight

[infini-tree]

actually you know what. cu digimon au (aka i assign them partners), on account of the fact that 02 canonized a worldwide network of chosen children so its not out of the question for a bunch of random kids in ohio to get a digimon partner

(also this is based on tetocu23 characterization because this is my au and i get to choose the child characterization)

george: elecmon

harold: sad wormmon > [theoretical fish digimon] > [theoretical dolphin digimon]

melvin: hagurumon

erica: DORUmon

dressy: psychemon

gooch: herissmon

stanley: alraumon

bo: sunarizamon

jessica: floramon

sophie one: morphomon

other sophie: otamamon

and as a bonus on account of the fact that i gotta involve my blorbo in everything:

benjamin krupp: toyagumon > toypteramon (by way of digimental of kindness)

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

I know we joke about it but it is vital for something to be at least a little bit badly written and/or tragic for me to want to write fanfic for it. It's gotta have cracks for me to wedge myself into, you see, otherwise I might like reading it but my brain will not get feral about it. But you give me an unresolved/botched ending? Kernels of brilliant concepts/amazing characterization in a mangled plot? Sign me the hell up, see you in a couple of weeks with an absolutely brainrotting amount of fix-it fic

[anothermonikan]

I haven't had OC brainrot this insane in actual years btw I am dying over here o7

[tetotrinsky2006]

OUUUUGHHHUDSJ WHY AM I LUMA3DS/GODMODE9 EXCEPTION SCREEN AND BOOTROM 8046 BRAINROT. WHAT THE FUCK.

watch me infodump under the cut <:]c

been finding some unusual luma3ds errors recently. according to the homebrew discord, these are all the possible errors you can get with luma3ds' exception screen:

ever since, ive been on the hunt for uncommon errors. here's some i found so far on the discord!!!!!!

^ thats "instruction cache maintenance operation fault"

^ not an uncommon error per se, however the process is weird :/

^ software gore, yummy!!!!!! apparently this was two errors overlapping eachother.

^ arm9 errors are more serious: kernel panic and undefined instruction on the arm9 process usually point to a hardware issue somewhere

^ why did luma fail to dump..... that sounds really bad :/

[doobnnoob-tf2]

HELLO DANIEL, how ya doing today? i’ve been reading your mercs headcanons for the last, uh, two days and they ARE SO SWEET, SO AMAZING, I’M COMING BACK TO MY TF2 BRAINROT BECAUSE OF YOU 😭

anyway, i'll get right to the point: i was watching the episode of bluey where bingo and bluey go to the cinema with their dad, and i was thinking, "how would each merc act on the cinema?". you'll get it if you watch the episode, but how does each class act in the movies? if you are unable to respond right now, please do not worry. i just wanted to express my admiration for you. alright, i’m leaving 😭🙏🏻

Scout: he either is the worst person to watch a movie with, or the others completely forget he's there because he was so quiet the whole time. there is no in between. if it's not something that catches and holds his attention, he'll be that obnoxious person people complain about the whole time. but if it does, he's glued to the screen. he constantly says horror movies don't bother him but the others see he leaves his lights on at night after seeing one

Soldier: he's banned from the local movie theater after receiving too many noise complaints. it doesn't stop him from showing up however. and every time he's reminded he can't enter, he goes on a long speech to the poor worker while they direct the line to just go around and ignore him. he just doesn't stop shouting at the characters about how poor their decision making skills are

Pyro: snacks galore. it's almost as if they just cleared out the entire concession stand. they always make sure they have one of the seats next to them as well to put all of their snacks.. that they won't be eating until they get back to the base and to their room

Demoman: he's super picky about seats. he wants fourth row and center seat. if he can't, he may be a bit grumpy during the whole movie. don't ask him why he's that serious about his seating, it always ends with him going on a rant about how he's tested every section of the theater and that's just the best

Heavy: he loves going to the movies, for any kind of genre. he has things he likes and dislikes about each. he mostly prefers going with at least one other on the team rather than by himself, but he will if he can't find anyone to go with him. he's usually the only one who can consistently get Scout to shut up and sit still during a movie

Engineer: he prefers hosting movie nights on the base rather than going out to a theater. it feels more like a group activity that way, rather than a stressful outing where they have to pay way too much for snacks and then everyone sits all around the theater rather than in a group anyway. he hosts weekly movie nights during the summer and they rotate who gets to pick what movie each week

Medic: he frequently gets invited to - and agrees to - going to see movies with the others. mostly Sniper to go see horror movies together because he wants to hear about how bad the gore is from a medical standpoint. the problem is, he forgets every single time and then busies himself and can't go. the only time he watches movies is when the whole team gets together to watch things on the projector together

Sniper: he frequently goes to the movies by himself. however, he always plans it on days where he knows there won't be that many people. both so he can happily prop his feet up on the seat in front of him, and so he can avoid dealing with people other than the concession staff. he isn't afraid to pelt the back of someone's head with popcorn kernels if they won't shut up during a movie

Spy: he prefers watching movies on the base. that way it can be paused and he can go step outside to smoke, or he can open and window and do the same while he keeps watching. if he really wants to go to a theater, there's always a point where he gets up and leaves for a few minutes. the others assume it's to have a smoke break, which is only partly true. the real truth is he's buying himself one of those jumbo bags of popcorn to take to his car and hide in the trunk for later

I feel so bad it took me forever to get to this I'm so sorry. I really appreciate that you enjoy (enjoyed? lol) the blog so much!

Admittedly, I'd just had a huge stint of hyperfocusing on my sideblog, @ask-the-tf2-mercs lol. It got a lot of attention all at once and I was getting a fuckton of asks over there so I neglected this blog to focus on keeping up with asks there. C':

But seriously, thank you and everyone who still enjoys this blog for enjoying it! It makes me happy that people like my goofy lil headcanons.

[heleneplays]

I have run this far (still I find you)

GOD am CRYING SO HARD WITH WHAT I WROTE EARLIER I NEEDED TO MAKE A COMPANION PIECE, to a hypothetical situation not even released yet.

My María x Helene brainrot is real and I need someone to cradle my heart and piece it together with glue, RIGHT NOW 😭😭😭

listen to Sunrise by Ben&Ben as you readddddd i s2g you should LISTEN

---

You wake with a gasp, pain pain pain a constant scream in your conciousness.

You don't register where you are, aside the fact that you're alive?/awake?/existing?

(Except it doesn't feel right.)

(It doesn't make sense. You died— you know that much.)

(María is still there, holding your bruised/broken/battered body, shaking in grief.)

You feel yourself coalesce into being, but it feels wrong. Like you're just a mind without a body, a conciousness drifting in the primordial soup of the universe.

Then you percieve.

(Your human mind wouldn't have been able to comprehend the situation in front of you. But you're not exactly human right now, are you?)

(Dying with the last embers of Carxite running in your body, even if the powers have fizzled into nothingness— it leaves a mark, a stain deep in your very soul.)

(The stone is them. The stone is us. The stone may have originated and propagated through the universe by the Most High, but it's secrets weren't all unlocked, even by their high priests.)

(You have an inkling that you are the one unlocking said secrets right now.)

It is your entire space. The focal point that brought you into its embrace.

"Helene."

The words come from nowhere and everywhere, and you feel struck.

It's timeless. It's ancient. Powerful, and primordial. It has no name, is no being. But it makes you suffocate with it's existence, full and heady and so, so, alive.

(If you believed in Gods, you'd say this was one. The True one.)

(But you don't, not anymore. And you cling into that belief with all your heart, because it's mere presence threatens to drown you. And you won't— won't drown, won't forget; even in death, even when all the stars in this universe and the next blinks out.)

And it looks at you. Through you. Looking in intangible concepts that elude you. But you remain steadfast, pain pain pain dying in the back of your mind, as you face this eldritch, cosmic horror.

It judges you, and has found you wanting.

(If this is the Power behind the universe, then you shall be Will, incarnate.)

The moment shatters. With no hesitation, You reach/run/take and it thrashes/convulses/fights.

You don't know what you are doing until you feel it flowing inside you, a kernel lodging in your center.

You were a God. But you were also human, and that superceded any other claims, even as you explored the heritage left to you by the Most High. Unimaginable power flowed through you, powers that your enemies coveted to bend/break/remake the world to their liking, for a fraction of a moment, to save the world, and you were left a husk of an empty man.

You are a God. You have shed your body, just a soul and a piece conciousness of fleeting moments and an iron will. Unimaginable power flows through you, powers that would allow you to bend/break/remake the universe to your liking, one that the Most High would have and did have wept/prayed/killed to unlock after all this time, and you are left aching.

(The voices inside the stone are silent, silenced by you, because they are nothing but echoes, coveted by the stone to give the words from the power it holds. They seek purpose/justice/absolution, but they are dead/broken/gone because the universe demanded—)

(—and for the first time, the universe will be the one to answer for it.)

You ache, in the very fiber of your being, in the very strands that govern your life; your soul, having eaten the forbidden fruit and ascended to a position of absolute power, quakes, and once again you feel the enormity that passes.

But you, you are achingly human, and humanity is your answer, because humanity is emotion, and emotion is love, and love is family, and family is the net that makes you unique— and vice versa.

(The faces of those you love come unbidden to you, and you can almost reach out to see their faces. Sam, Cleo, Esme, Zhu, Rémy, Dominique; Stevo, Miles, your coworkers both old and new, the ones whom you've met at some point or another in your life; Abdul, David, Stephanie—)

You have killed and lied and hurt and stained yourself a thousand million times over, because you believed, because you felt, because you sought— but most importantly, because you loved, and love is the answer.

(María.)

And because you are God; because you have taken part once more in the endless ocean of power; because your will and humanity and love was always going to be the more powerful answer—

You bend/break/remake.

Not the universe, but yourself.

---

It's been hours since the final battle. Reinforcements have finally reached to clean-up the post-battle, off to take care of the horde of broken/bleeding/dying soldiers that they've defeated. Sam and Dominique huddle on the side, patching each other up. Cleo and Esme are in the other room, Rémy bringing along Zhu and Miles with several things in their arms. People are milling around, inside, outside; bruised, bloodied, but alive.

(Everyone else important to her is alive.)

(Why couldn't she?)

You, however, are by the walls by the window, looking out at everywhere and nowhere, trying your best to contain the hurt, the agony of your heart beating in your chest, because once again you've lost; you've lost and gone the one important thing you said you'd never left yourself feel for once more.

(But you are a liar, a cheat and a thief, a muderer with a ledger dripping with red—)

(—And maybe this is your karma haunting you, to love and to continually lose, experiencing so many forms of heartbreak even when you've thought to have steeled yourself against it.)

"You are weak." You once told her. Instead of being angry, like you expect her to be, she smiles, and replies with a joking tone: "For you? Yeah, I definitely am."

"I love you, Helene." You finally tell her, in quiet of the hour, voice all but a whisper, and tears spring in her eyes. And then she smiles so beautifully, flushed with happiness and radiance no one else had ever been able to show and direct towards you except her. And she kisses you, all her love/relief/understanding behind it, and you swallow it whole, because you are greedy and selfish and you want her, and only ever her.

(And because you love her, you don't let go of her until they pry her away ever so gently, respect/admiration/grief/understanding for you, and her, and her sacrifice.)

"I love you." You say, as she closes her eyes and breathes her last, as you commit every second to your memory, because you love her, and death and agony will not stop you. Because you had time, you have time, and you should have had time, free from everything, to be together, and it is sad and painful that you won't get that, not anymore.

Not anymore.

(My dearest, my darling, dead.)

And because you are a liar, you stare at your hands, the golden wedding band of your not-so-legal wedding with your beloved glinting as you turn it over, and over— willing that you are just waiting, on something—

And you look downwards, on the couch where they laid her body, because she may be dead, but everyone agreed that it doesn't matter, that it won't matter, not until everything left to be settled here is done, and you all have to face organizing the funeral of the one person who made this victory possible—

And she looks asleep, her dark hair fanned out, trademark ribbon keeping it up stretched taut and wrapped against your wrist, because it's the one thing you got her back then; and her face is scrubbed clean, blood carefully scrubbed away by your own hands, because you know she'd do it if it was you; And her own golden ring glints, as the sun starts to break through the horizon, and you can't help but go to her and reach out to take her hand, even if you know that it'll be cold, clammy, and everything that marks her dead—

Because you can't accept it, not yet, not again; because Helene had faced worse odds, nearly killed a couple of times, and studied the goddamned stone which still had secrets that Helene never shared, but you know she revived the near-dead, was able to control people, shot out laser-like beams out of her palms; and you want to believe this isn't the end of your story, so you slipped a piece of it to her hand, the last piece she never used, the size of a pebble, really, before they settled her body—

Because God can't be so cruel to give her a gift, then take it away for the last time so soon, because some part of her believes that Helene, her wife, would've chosen otherwise, if she could—

(And her hand, it's warm, she thinks as she holds it, and María's brow furrows, perplexed; but then looks at her wife, then her chest, which was flat and still just a few seconds ago, starting to rise once more.)

---

Warmth.

That's the first thing you feel as you feel yourself slip back.

---

María wants to go, to scream, to believe—

---

(And by God, she pleads. Please, please come back. Live.)

And then Helene opens her eyes, and meets María's.

"I love you."

---

Then:

"You promise?"

"Yeah. I think i'll love you forever."

"Helene." She says.

---

Now:

"María." She replies.

They say each other's names like a prayer, answered. Their hands are intertwined, like a promise, of the future, of forever.

María lowers her head to Helene's.

Other things can wait. Right now, they bask in the simplicity of having each other, once again.

Sunrise finally breaks in the horizon.

---

"I love you."

Until the stars go dark, you both think.

And even after that.

Neither of you say it—don’t even think it—but the universe should know that by now.

(And if it doesn't, well.)

(Helene would gladly shake it to it's core once more, with María next to her.)

[the-awful-falafel]

sorry for the weird ask but. how does it feel to be So Based. all the time (currently VERY hyperfixated on rnm because i like upsetting things apparently and i do appreciate that they're trying to redeem rick/make reparations but you are so right... theyre doing it in a way that feels weird, uncomfortable, and inherently romanticizes abusive relationships. i enjoy a lot of posts from this fandom, but ur takes are the ones I most consistently agree with. ur based asf)

(late reply, sorry that this ask sat in my inbox for like a week)

I don't really feel "based" or anything (although I'm flattered), I'm just tossing my overthinking opinions into the void and continuing to be surprised when people actually agree with me. Especially considering my takes definitely don't seem to be the common opinions in the fandom right now (especially concerning Rick), so I'm guess I'm glad some people are getting anything out of my rambling rants and analyses, lol.

R&M is definitely one of those shows that's very flawed, very frustrating, and has a kernel of something that could be (and for a time, was) very good, but in a way that just makes it worse when it disappoints me at critical moments. I think I always felt that way about the series to an extent, even when I optimistically hopped into the fandom after season 3, but it really cemented after season 5 concluded like it did. (Particularly with its uncomfortable framing and handling of heavy topics, as I've frequently brought up.)

Maybe I fixate more on flawed (or upsetting, as you aptly put it) media because my brain just lasers in on the promising stuff, tries to pinpoint where it went so frustratingly wrong, and then work out if it's even fixable or something worth vainly holding out for improvements on. Nowadays my expectations are incredibly low for future seasons, so I just keep rotating the characters in my head and wishing they had better arcs and writers in general lmao. (And, more positively, Evil Morty's entire concept and conclusion still gives me brainrot.)

[cornislost]

i just want dev dimmadome to be happy god dammit (ref under cut)

[infini-tree]

krupp, after being accidentally switched in mid-fight: oh sure, let me feel the pain. real nice

[cornislost]

zero effort doodle of the sillies in their blazers with the 3rd anni redesigns

[cornislost]

friar with a gas mask and nail stick is giving dystopian vibes

ref from rtgame's south park stick of truth playthrough under cut, along with closeups of the phone trinkets

[cornislost]

the kids as teens!!! them standing one by one under cut

[cornislost]

Junior High Days

the purpleds,,,, they finally got kizuna titles,,,,,,,, rejoice

[cornislost]

Peter Pan and Snow White

finally finished peter pan emu! that dress made me want to do violent things

[cornislost]

made a video for instagram that absolutely flopped so here it is on tumblr because why not