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#Unique Sound Experience
licollisa · 11 months
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If you have trouble drawing clothing folds, wrap a tissue around your finger and bend it at the angle and position you want it to
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astrolavas · 9 months
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it's sound weird, but i have headcanon that Hunter didn't go hexside, because he too old to shool(according to my feelings, at the end of the he is 16-17 y.o (except for the post-credits scene), and at that age it is already too late to go to school):p
i mean, well- in my opinion he rather certainly did go to hexside, since one of the things he'd said during his TTT monologue was "i'd like to attend hexside like a normal student and play flyer derby with my friends" and all of his "wishes" were supposed to sort of foreshadow his goals and his future (carving palismen, studying wild magic, etc etc) so i feel like it's safe to say he succeeded in becoming a hexside student as well. we also know he attended grom with the rest of his friend group, and like- since he's 16 before the timeskip (no canon certainty whether he's recently turned 16 or is going on 17 already though, but like... around 16 canonically) that means he'd get at least 1 year of school, but most likely 2+.
my personal headcanon is that he went to hexside for around 2 years (full or not quite, depending on when the school year starts in the boiling isles and how long it lasts; possibly even 3), and during that time he picked up a mentorship/apprenticeship at del's palisman carving shop, and after he graduated from hexside he started carving palismen professionally with the clawthornes (i like to think that he also takes some courses at eda's wild magic university in his spare time, simply cuz . funny uni hexsquad shenanigans)
#like imo him being like ''i dream abt going to hexside'' and then not getting to attend hexside cuz he's ''too old to start'' or sth#would be kinda cruel since he already lost sooo much of his childhood because of belos. and he wants to be a hexside student#he deserves to have these few years of the typical teenage experience that he so desperately longs for#ofc it's not gonna make up for ALLLL the years of childhood that he'd lost. but even 2 years of the experience? would mean So much to him#not to even mention that the idea of him just... sitting at home or JUST carving palismen or doing whatever for halfa day for the 2-4 years#just cuz he's ???? ''too old'' or it's ''too late for him to start high school at his age'' or anything similar ?#while the rest of his friends get to go to school and learn and socialize and attend classes everyday without him . sounds so lonely#and he had already spent most of his life sheltered and separated from everyone so . yeah.#he'd still technically have to finish hexside like 1-2 years before the rest of hexsquad buuuuut y'know. his situation is very unique#so i could also imagine bump/eda agreeing to let him go to school a year or so longer so that he could finish it alongside his friends#but that's like mm i also can see him finishing it a year early compared to the rest of hexsquad and starting fulltime at the palisman shop#but either way; yes to at least 1-2 years at hexside in my mind#now COLLEGE? i Could see him not going to uni since he's already got the palisman business going and is doing well and wants to chill#BUT personally i still like to imagine that he attends classes there part-time#nicole answers#my toh talk#hunter toh#verocorne
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heart-forge · 4 months
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I think if I could make a total dream game I'd make a VR romance experience.
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ear-motif · 1 month
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as people learn more about transmasculinity im debating if itd make me more dysphoric to be a permanently clocky tboy to well-meaning libs who still view me as a woman regardless or to keep embodying my cissona
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homoerotvic · 5 months
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the half of it and the beauty of quiet movies and the quietness of falling in love and the deep meaningful quiet connections that can happen between people regardless of gender and sexuality
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small-spark-of-light · 11 months
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just some old Velda doodles :)
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yeonban · 3 days
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Tobias has had to learn SO much normal person stuff after arriving at Wammy's House that these days his first reaction to hearing about smth "new" (to him) that apparently everyone already knows about is calling Elijah and asking him to yap explain it to him in a more detailed manner. As a kid you asked him what he wants for Christmas and he was like ? what could I want from a corporatist holiday designed to create profit by- [starts getting into the nitty gritty of it bc that's all Christmas has ever been in his family; a way to make more money. Fuck them people what matters is the $$$]. Well turns out it's a holiday where people gift you stuff... because they LIKE you. and because they want you to have a GOOD time. Crazy. Why are all of these insane people around me. (<- the other Wammy kids & the staff)
You just KNOW he's openly had to ask what love is before with a straight face too bc what is that. I keep hearing about it. And after receiving a dozen different answers that made absolutely No sense to him god bless, he was even More confused like alright... never mind what it is (<- still no clue what they're on about), tell me why would anyone willingly subject themselves to it. (<- makes it sound like it's a newfound form of torture)
Tobias nowadays still learning things that a regular kid would know by age 6:
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heretodefyfate · 7 months
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something about frlg, rse fangames or rom hacks that has dark theme, or very edgy in general just make me very interested
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m3rcykill · 2 years
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im trying reaaally really hard not to sound ignorant but i still have no clue why ppl dont like that the transphobia thats experienced in a unique way by trans men has a label.. like do ppl dislike transandrophobia being a label/concept is it a community thing??? do i have the wrong definition?? ive looked towards both sides and i genuinely do not understand
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ohfugecannada · 1 year
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Calling any cg animated film with a stylised 2D inspired aesthetic “like Spiderverse” or Spiderverse-esque” is starting to become the animation equivalent of describing any experimental movie with a disturbing, uncanny or surreal tone “Lynchian”.
#puss in boots the last wish#puss in boots 2#spiderman into the spiderverse#spiderman#like I get it#Spiderverse is having a significant influence on how studios like Dreamworks are stylising their films and everything#and it’s safe to say bad guys and puss in boots 2 wouldnet look the way they do#would simply not turn out the way they did without Spiderverse proving that not only could a 2d styled character feature film work visually#but also be very successful box office wise#…but like#you guys do know 3D/2D style hybrid films existed before Spiderverse right?#you know Sony pictures animation and marvel didn’t single gandedly invent the concept of a cgi cartoon that looks/movies like 2d animation#right??#and that hundreds of diffrent artists and studios from america to Japan have been experimenting with heavily stylised cg for actual decades#before Spiderverse came along#right????#like I’ll give the benefit of the doubt most people who call The Bad Guys Arcane or Puss 2 “Spiderverse like are simply just#not well read on the subject and history of this style of animation#so I don’t want to sound like I’m punching down at others for simply lacking context on certain things#but at the same time something about it just really irks me because by constantly comparing these distinct and unique looking films#to one film that shares a similar technique just bothers me#as someone said before; Spiderverse is like a comic book come to life#the bad guys is like a cartoon (or to me anyway a cartoony anime)#and Puss in boots 2 is like a lush concept art painting come to life#all of these films while using a similar method have their own distinctive identity and style#and by some animation fans calling Puss in boots 2 or bad guys “like Spiderverse it just feels very reductive and dismissive of these films#and thier respective creators unique creative identities and voices#again it’s a similar reason to why I and other hate it when some film bros call any experimental art film Lynchian#it just undermines what makes that work unique to itself and the artist who made it
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gingerbreadmonsters · 13 days
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[wailing]
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vang0bus · 10 months
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the transandrophobia discourse is so fucking stupid. objectively transmasc people DO experience specific forms of discrimination - usually stemming from misogyny but sometimes from actual misandry* coming from, say, radfems - that transfem people dont. that doesnt mean transmascs are inherently more opressed than transfems. no one is saying that. it's just different. its ok to have different words for different types of discrimination. it doesnt mean its worse or more violent than transmisogyny, just that there are unique elements to it that are generally not a part of transmisogynistic discrimination. stop worrying about if youre winning or losing the opression olympics for a second and let people talk about their experiences
*no, i dont believe that men are systemically opressed and discriminated against. but if youve looked at a terf blog for more than two minutes you KNOW there are people who really, violently hate all men and think theyre literal monsters. yeah, this might not affect cis men in their daily lives, but it does affect trans men and transmascs, who unlike cis men are much more likely to be the targets of terfs and radfems who think all men are violent monsters
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vvatchword · 1 year
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Chapter 1: Take the Head
You remember Pa teaching you how to pop the head off of a chicken. You weren’t very big yet, maybe five. You had always been taught to treat the animals with respect, so it jarred you to yank the chicken up by the throat. The chicken flapped and kicked; the golden eye latched on yours, a panicked pinpoint.
You couldn’t break her neck. You tried and you tried but you just rubbed her throat in a circle over and over like you were trying to give her an Indian burn. She frantically scratched your arm up and down, her beak gaping in a terrified pant. You know now that you could have done it easily—a chicken’s spine is little more resistant than a dry stick or a pencil—but that was just the problem: she wasn’t either of those things.
Then Pa took her from you, wrapped his fist around the throat, and popped the head clean off. He held the head out to you. The eyes had closed. The lids were soft and pink. Her face was peaceful. Her body still kicked.
“See?” he said. “Easy. She didn’t feel a thing.”
There was blood on Pa’s hands. When he pointed out the cockerel for you to try again, there was blood on your hands, too.
** You aren’t much of a conversationalist. You’ve gone on dates where you barely spoke a word. Your coworkers don’t know your name. You work in a factory line, screwing in one piece at a time. Dull work, monotonous work. Lets your brain run on its own time at its own pace.
You like to remember lists during such times. Pa taught you about something called a “mind palace,” a detailed map you build in your mind and store thoughts inside of. Somehow recall is easier when you can imagine them in a physical space. You store your shopping lists there. You also store guns—lists about makes, models, ammunition.
Guns have been a special interest of yours since childhood. You would save pages out of the Sears catalog as a child and tape them on the wall so you saw them when you woke up. You were fascinated how they went together and would draw them in their disparate parts before drawing them put together again. You liked drawing them from all different angles just to admire the geometry. You checked out books on guns from the library so often that the librarian started setting aside new offerings for you. You had never been able to own guns of your own, but you practiced with your father’s Mark I Sturm Ruger and the old .22. You could ping prairie dogs like a pro.
You like to think that eventually, you’ll buy one of your own. You know just the model—the BAR, or Browning Automatic Rifle—full-aut, carried by Bonnie and Clyde, running second-fiddle to the M1 Garand throughout World War II. When you repeat the gun list, you think “BAR” before any of the others; it is the highest honor you can bestow.
You like monotony for the same reason you like lists. There’s something relaxing about rhythms. It’s like music, like dance. You can’t dance, of course—you never learned. You don’t own a record player, either—you don’t spend money on frivolous things. The Depression is still a heavy black cloud in the back of your mind. You lived on a farm, so your belly never went empty, but you also didn’t grow up wearing shoes.
You are 28. Or is it 29? It’s been a while since you’ve thought about your birthday. It’s on July 3. “Our independence baby,” someone said. It may have been Pa, but you don’t remember exactly; you were very small. You do remember Ma replying that it was one day off and they weren’t in America anyway, so it didn’t count. You were disappointed for some reason; sure, you know it doesn’t make a difference either way, but it would be nice to have something special that was just your own. Oh, Ma and Pa told you you were going to do great things someday—that’s something you could believe when you were, say, eight. But then you had to make your way in the world and all the world offered was a factory line, a small dark room, and the weather. It’s hard to believe in anything magnificent at the bottom of a hole.
**
You live in sparsely-furnished rooms in cheap apartments near the ocean. On weekdays, you make your bed, eat breakfast (eggs, toast, coffee with cream), shave, dress, go to work (screw, screw, screw), come home and turn on the radio (evening news, then whatever entertainment strikes your fancy, usually action and adventure programs), drink a beer while completing the evening ablutions (wash dishes, pack lunch for tomorrow, shower, set alarm clock, read evening edition in bed until you get tired).
Sometimes you go to your neighbor’s to watch their television in exchange for a beer; you sit side by side and quietly drink as Lucy gambols and the laugh track rolls. On Saturdays, you go shopping for the household essentials and stand in lines while the grocer bags produce and the butcher cuts your lunch meat.
If it’s nice enough, you walk down to the ocean to stretch your legs. It’s not a pretty place by any means; a sodden gray beach where colorless rushes thrust insistent heads and sun-bleached shells lie. In winter, it’s even more dreary; the Atlantic is a sullen gray sweep and the nasty cold steals your breath. It’s the kind of cold that makes you feel wet and heavy even if you haven’t touched water.
You have never felt as though the sea is a nice place; you distinctly remember deciding this back when you first entered the town. Even in the summer, when the water is glassy green and the beach crowded with tourists, you feel as though the sea is a vast and apathetic monster—apocalyptic in size, in scale, in potential. Apocalyptic: you don’t go to church, but that’s the word that comes to you. The sea feels as though it should be the focus of worship, the kind of thing you sacrifice to; you’ve never held much by spiritual claptrap, but you will grant one place worthy of godhood.
You did not grow up near the sea. You grew up in Kansas, a land so flat you used to roll up papers like spyglasses and try to see Japan. You moved to the coast of New Jersey because you’d wanted to see the ocean. No—no, it may well have been because of the factory job. They do pay well and they probably printed something in the help ads. A family friend in New York often sends newspaper clippings with his letters just to be of service. Yes, that would make a great deal more sense: “I heard Jack is looking for a job,” he’d say. “Here are some local ones that are right up his alley.”
Yes, now that you think about it, that’s exactly what happened. The sea was a bonus—until you saw it. But how were you to know what the sea was really like until you went there? It’s too bad someone couldn’t have told you.
Sometimes you think you should move away, but learning new routines is such a pain that you just put up with it. Someday you’ll probably get tired enough to leave. The way the cold weaponizes itself with humidity tires you down to your bones.
You know, you haven’t thought of the family friend in a while. What was his name again? Joe? Jim? John? One of those common names. You’ll have to check your address book. It’s been a while since you’ve heard from him. You should write sometime to make sure he’s all right.
For that matter, you haven’t heard from your parents. When did they last write? Hell! Maybe it’s your turn to write. Yes, it’s your turn to write for certain; that would explain why you haven’t received any letters recently. You do tend to forget minutiae with the humdrum flow of everyday life. Your parents are older now; you know better than to leave them without a word every now and then. Your mother must be worried sick.
You decide to purchase some stationery and stamps that weekend, but you forget until the invitation comes, and by that time, it’s far too late. You didn’t know that then, of course. You didn’t know much of anything, if you have to be honest.
UPRISING: BLACK SCRAPBOOK HUB
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apeshit · 10 months
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ive been allowing myself to watch instagram reels since im recovering and i get so annoyed when i hear reels with this one audio like “so i just discovered dopamine decor is a thing its where you decorate your home with pieces that make you happy and share your personality” because like WHAT !! youre not even saying anything . at all . why are you acting like youre saying something
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andrewologist · 4 months
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nothing quite like the bond between a divorced store manager and his army of gen z/millennial employees
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weirdcultstuff · 2 years
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The woman I’m training in for her new position at my job this week: I’m not religious at all or anything, but I do believe in god and angels and reincarnation and things
Me: ok 🫠
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