“Went to pick up Uncle from his friends house and I’m pretty sure this guy wanted to sell us the Devil’s Lettuce…
He kept trying to get us to come closer. We did not. Even with Atticus’ height the guy persisted.”
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if ur gonna hate on homestuck i need you to read the comic first (epilogues and hs2 exempted, but extra credit) and write me a ten page essay about why exactly you hate it
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So you know that Israel EuroVision song that had to be rewritten and somehow isn't getting banned?
Well guess what? Even Israeli music critics hate the song! And their words against it are absolutely brutal!
They're genuinely thinking that a song as abhorrent as "Harbu Darbu" should have been chosen instead because at least it's saying something, whereas this one has nothing! (I mean hey, maybe that being chosen could have gotten it through to the cowardly numbskulls at Eurovision that letting in a country currently committing a genocide wouldn't be a very smart move.)
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i love geology and i love music cuz therell be a really cool-sounding geo term and ill look it up to see if its a band name yet and it always is, usually exactly in the genre i wouldve guessed
(Protolith: a term used to describe what the original starting rock was in the process of it turning into metamorphic rock. And yes, there is indeed a progressive sludge/post-metal band out there called Protolith)
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When my goofball, cookie-loving, joke-cracking, kind-hearted, reckless, adventurous salvager pilot flips a switch.
He bowed his head, staring at the weapon in his hand. A tenebrous shadow darkened his eyes behind his bangs - a dredgling companion to the despair of the storm.
His heart broke, but the lightning stitched it together with threads of anger to match its might.
Selka saw it flash in his gold-ringed eyes.
His quiet monotone voice emanated a palpable aura of danger.
“Where are they?”
She had only seen him enter this dark state of serious edge once before. She had felt a darkness in him that day. It was the only time he truly frightened her. Even then, she knew he would never intentionally hurt her.
But this time, she shared that danger. She remembered what Jeina had told her in confidence, which served to add fire to that danger. He might not have a mik-human genetic marker, but he still possessed their strength, and was very capable of hurting anyone if he wanted to. She was more than happy to let him loose on the force that kidnapped two of his family, and murdered the other.
Tag list: @muddshadow @cedar-west @athenixrose @penspiration-writing @runningoutofbooks @tobiornottobithatisthequestion @roll-top-writing @subject-2-change @dreaming-in-seams @mismatchingart @midnight-and-his-melodiverse @thewriteflame @writingventriloquist @ren-c-leyn @asher-orion-writes @aninkwellofnectar @winterandwords @raevenlywrites @nanashi23 @athenaannarose @the-tired-writer @space-cadead
@cljordan-imperium
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Thoughts.
Sometimes I consider the idea of opening up commissions again. But it's been so, so long. Basically, I just want to draw again like how I used to when I was young.
These past few weeks where I take only a day or two to finish something and just sketch mostly has been so refreshing. It almost feels like how it had when I was a kid without anything physical holding me back. I would just... draw. And that was the end of it.
Because nowadays, the things I'm admittedly most proud of take me upwards of 6 months at times...
But the catch is it's really degrading on my psyche. (Not to mention my body alike.) And I miss drawing without caring so deeply to a fault about how bad/good things looked. So, I contemplate the possibility of doing commisions. But it isn't even money that I want, nor do I think it's good enough for compensation. Therefore, I just want to enjoy doing something again.
So TL;DR If anyone has any suggestions, comment /ask/send me an anon of them and I will draw them for free Maybe. I probably won't draw them well or good, but I will (Maybe) draw them if it sounds fun to me :) Please anything is welcome.
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“Uncle Potato Chip sends an update about his friend that had the surgery awhile back. Apparently, they’re both up to their shenanigans.”
“A day in the life of an office worm. I quote Uncle Potato Chip. He says he does a lot of typing on his slow days. His friend is in the desk next to him.”
“Uncle Potato Chip, who took the photos, said you gotta do it to them.”
“The joke was Uncle Potato Chip’s friend told him he was looking mighty tasty.”
“Uncle Potato Chip says this is where they keep the cryogenically frozen heads of their past bosses.”
“They had a nice potluck at work yesterday. Probably for the holidays. Uncle Potato Chip said the crockpot dish above wasn’t the greatest. Edible, but not the greatest.”
“I don’t remember what Uncle Potato Chip said his friend’s name was. I don’t think he ever mentions his friends by name in texts, but I think he once said over the phone this one’s name is Tango? I can’t remember.”
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still in the midst of brain fog and the start of the semester is 7 days away and mentally it feels like I am on a fucking inner tube in a lazy river made of jello and I would cry but I literally do not have the capacity to properly process the fact that I am feeling emotions rn
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im so overflowing with love its starting to rot me from the inside i feel like im melting
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