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I’m obsessed with ep 15 of ohshc not because of anything that actually happens in the episode but because hikaru seems to be wearing three tank tops the whole time

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Dannymay day 4 - Eyes

Tumblr hates me and does NOT want me to upload this and idk why :( why does the fps keep getting fucked up 😭

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some cats

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i loveee when you respond to a discord message with emoji reactions and like five other people join in. yeah... that message WAS a little bit angry crying emoji and uncomfortably detailed closeup of walter white's face huh...

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She’s just trying to sell her wares

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Sunset and Moonrise I love painting water refracting the sun and moon~

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If you use Duolingo, maybe don't anymore? The company is moving to be "AI-first" and is using AI to generate their content. Meaning, AI is now generating your language lessons.

They announced that they were going to use AI for this a while back but now they're annoucing that they're getting rid of the contractors reviewing the AI generated content. So, very soon Duolingo is just going to be AI generated slop that might not even be correct.

For alternatives, I'd recommend checking with your local library. For instance, mine offers Rosetta Stone for free if you have a library card.

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Genius Things to Do When You’re Stuck in Your Plot...

Make a fake conspiracy board connecting every character like you're solving a murder. Use string, post-its, color-coded chaos. Even if your book isn’t a thriller, this helps you spot secret relationships, hidden motivations, and “oh crap, this character actually caused that moment three chapters later” reveals.

Write a therapy session transcript for your protagonist. What would they say to a stranger? What wouldn’t they say? What does the therapist pick up on that they don’t? (Also: gives you instant internal conflict fuel.)

Record a fake podcast episode where your villain is a guest. The topic? “Why I Was Right and Everyone Else Is Just Soft.” Let them monologue. Let them get unhinged. You’ll learn so much about their worldview and how they justify their chaos.

Assign zodiac signs to all your main characters and write how they’d react to a haunted house. Not because astrology is the answer—but because forcing your brain to imagine characters in weird situations unlocks surprising truths. (Your Scorpio would definitely flirt with the ghost. Your Virgo brought sage.)

Write the worst possible ending to your story on purpose. Like, make it hilariously bad. Deus ex machina, everyone dies, aliens show up—it doesn’t matter. Sometimes mocking your plot actually helps you figure out what doesn’t work so you can reverse-engineer what does.

Do a “what if this happened instead?” daydream session in the shower or on a walk. No pressure. Just free-thinking. Let your brain go off-road. You might stumble into a better twist, or a softer moment, or a scene that guts you in the best way.

Write the one scene you’re most excited about—now. Even if you “haven’t earned it” yet in the draft. Screw linear order. Give yourself a jolt of joy. That scene might be the key to unlocking everything else.

Make your characters write Yelp reviews about each other. “One star. Always steals my fries. Would still die for him.” This is ridiculous, yes. But it will reveal interpersonal tension you didn’t know was there.

Tell your plot to someone who knows nothing about it—and see where they get confused. Your roommate. Your cat. Your reflection. If you can’t explain it out loud in 2 minutes, it’s probably too complicated. Simplify the heart of the story. Get clear again.

Write a flash-forward epilogue. Even if it never makes it into the book. Where do these characters end up? Who are they now? That can tell you where the real story wants to go—and help you figure out what’s missing along the way.

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Because it is the anniversary of his death, I wanted to share a small story about my grandfather.

Before I knew that I was intersex, I identified as a trans man. And I went the way any trans man has to go if he wants to transition in my country. My parents thankfully were supportive but I was afraid to tell my grandparents. My grandparents were German and lived/were raised during the third reich. While both of them never said or acted in a way that suggested that they had fascist views (my grandfather was until he died part of a leftwing political party), but there still was this fear in me. "They are old, they grew up surrounded by abhorrent beliefs...". And then there was my aunt. Who would constantly claim that my grandfather was homophobic.

The problem was, back then, there were no openly out gay people in our area, so I never got the chance to see my grandfather interact with someone who was queer. So I just believed her. Because she was so insistent on it. And because it confirmed my fears and my brain loves to be constantly afraid.

But I knew I wanted to come out. I had to, eventually, because I had stopped my estrogen treatment (back then, I did not know that I got that because I was intersex) and went on testosterone instead and first physical changes began to show. We all lived in one big house, so my grandparents would eventually notice.

I was so afraid that my father at some point offered to talk to his parents. I waited outside in the hallway that led to their kitchen and listened.

My father explained, easy to understand, that I was going to transition from female to male because I felt terrible in my body. My grandfather asked, "Is that why the child* is so depressed all this time?" I had been in and out of multiple clinics for manic depression at that point. My father gave a yes. And my grandmother made the incredibly selfish comment, "Can't that wait until I am dead?"

Before I even got time to be upset, my grandfather slammed his fist down on the table. I had never seen or heard him do anything like that before. He was a very calm and collected man who preferred to leave the room before he got too angry. "No, it can't wait. The child gets to get well now. And if that is what is going to help, then it needs to be done."

From that day on, he never used my deadname again or used the wrong pronouns for me. Sometimes, he would stop in a sentence to think and remind himself, but he did always address me correctly.

He celebrated with me when my name was legally changed. He built the bed frame for me and my boyfriend's bed when we moved in together, just like he had built the first adult sized bedframe for me when I outgrew my small bed. He drove my boyfriend to his chemo sessions because my grandfather also had cancer and knew how terrifying it was to go alone.

Did he fully understand what it means to be intersex? To transition? No. But he understood that one of his loved ones was suffering and that he could help to alleviate that pain. And so he did.

He taught me calligraphy. He taught me how to sew. He taught me bookbinding. He gave me many gifts.

But the biggest gift he gave me was, that when someone hated me for what I am, I could stomach it. Because this man was willing to unlearn the bigotry he had been taught for decades so he could love me for who I am.

*in my grandpa's dialect it was normal to refer to children as just 'the child' (genderless)

EDIT

I was blown away by how many people have reblogged this post. I believe my grandfather would be very happy to see that he can give some hope and love to others even now.

I do not want him to stay faceless; so here is a piece of art I made for his obituary, with a slightly altered quote added now.

Dahlias were his favorite flowers. Orange ones especially. They reminded him of the home he had to flee from as a child.

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experimenting w designs ...

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tired: mermaids are all women

wired: much like elves, merfolk are mistaken by sailors for being all women because they have long hair and are very pretty

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I really do love when I get called a fujoshi because, like. Look, it's not a cool thing to call any gay trans guy, but with me in particular, it is REALLY apparent that that's just your catch-all insult for gay trans guys. Really obvious that you were just throwing some spaghetti at the wall and hoping it stuck. You didn't even look at my blog. There's not even real life guys kissing on here. Or anime guys not kissing. I was just talking to my spouse about anime boys I am capable of naming, and here is the full list: Goku, Sasuke, Naruto, etc. That's all of them. Ain't a holier-than-thou thing, either. Just not my scene. And it's also a thing where, like. Let's strip away the porn and romance parts of it. I didn't transition to be a twink. If you did, I am hootin' and hollerin' and crushing beer cans against my forehead, but I'm fat and hairy and covered in tattoos and I often find myself in a hunting supply store staring at the novelty T-shirts and thinking, "That's a solid pun and a beautiful wildlife painting. I can't pass up the opportunity to wear this to a chili cook-off or perhaps to a different hunting supply store." Just the way it worked out for me, you know? I think maybe if you asked the people who know me to rank things they'd be likely to find me doing, they would all put "gnawing on a human corpse buck naked on the side of the road" slightly above "rubbing one out to anime boys kissing". But yeah. I definitely transitioned because I want to pretend that I am Sasuke kissing Goku. That's what I'm up to for sure, you ribbonless county fair hog.

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Hey dude. I noticed that you seem to be having a lot of symbolic association with the ouroboros icon and I just wanted to know if you were like. ok. or like, that you're experiencing time linearly and not stuck in an eternal loop of the same events.