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incorrect-hs-quotes · 2 years

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Bro: Dave, get off the fridge.

Dave: not until you admit I'm the coolest strider.

Dirk: Excuse you, I exist.

Hal, coming up out of nowhere: Not for long.

Dirk: THE FUCK?!

#submission #source: in-system Strider talk #bro fictive #dave fictive #hal fictive #dirk fictive #//#homestuck #incorrect homestuck quotes #bro strider #dave strider #dirk strider #lil hal #hal strider #mod terezi #hal commits a murder and tax fraud

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appled-juice · 2 years

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some more crayon doodles

i really like how these rosies look shes cute

#davey arts #davey agere #homestuck #dave strider #homestuck fictive #dave strider fictive #rose lalonde #dirk strider #bro strider #john egbert #jade harley #karkat vantas

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rottedsonnets · 12 days

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Damn do y'all got nothin better to do but yap about me? Hah, didn't know I was famous or sum shite. ✌️ -B

#bro strider fictive #homestuck #homestuck fictive #bro strider

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poorlydrawndirk · 8 months

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We're on air.

More precisely, I was on air when I recorded this, but the details are largely irrelevant. Because I don't really feel like covering fuckin' introductory quantum mechanics and telling you exactly how the influence of the Skaian universe, when applied at the quark level and taken alongside the probabilistic effect of quantum behavior, superposes via particle states and results in the formation of what you might refer to as "overlapping timelines". And that's already getting real abecedarian about this shit.

Yeah, sue me. Try boning up on basic physics while you're at it.

So. I'm sure you'd love to hear about how I managed to rig this sick as hell channel-cum-blog up and get it to straddle the space-time continuum like an antediluvian Olympic gymnast doing mad splits over baby's first toy pony, but that ain't the point of this little exercise. Posting what's effectively a vlog is enough of an onanistic venture without adding Skaian Principles For Dummies: Electric Boogaloo to the schedule.

Where was I?

(Rhetorical question. Don't answer, if it needed to be said.)

The name's Dirk.

Strider. Yeah, that Strider.

I'd be more worried about internet safety, but seeing as there are only up to two people alive around here no matter how far you pull my timeline back, and I'm one of 'em, it doesn't exactly compute. Face it, brosephine: you aren't getting to year 24xx post-hilarocaust, and you sure aren't getting past that. Wasn't shat out of a lab yet when you were committing identity theft and scamming doddering old ladies out of their sadsack pensions.

(If you manage to get pizza delivered out here, I'll tip extra.)

Besides, you already knew my name, didn't you?

Maybe your next question's going to be:

"Why are you calling this a vlog when it's obviously just a blog?"

Or maybe,

"Why is your URL poorlydrawndirk when it's totally malapropos?"

Buckle in, kids. Strap yourself into that convertible toddler-safe harness and keep your ass glued tight to all the prime polyester-lined foam, because this ride's about to pull into the station and vehicular standards are some passé 21st century horseshit.

The first thing you have to understand is that even peering upon the brink of these echelons of irony is a skill that you'll never grasp in your life. But that's fine. I'm around. And if it puts your mind at ease,

I'll be the one pulling the strings here.

(There's the tired callback. It's not wrong, but it's tired. Worn out enough for it to be begging you to take it out back behind the shed and put it out of its misery.)

(I'll leave it at that for now, because self-referencing is one thing, but if I get any more meta, I'll have to start narrating in twelve-point Times New Roman.)

Anyway, I'll be breaking it down, just this once. Magnanimous as hell, I know. I could wax poetic and in doing so obfuscate the actual meaning once more from obtuse minds, thereby adding another strata to irony so layered that it's settled past sedimentary and is ready to unearth some fossil formations, but let's be real. That shit would fly over your head so far it'd be trying to dial ground control at Houston.

Here we go.

Vlogs aren't cool; making one ironically is.

Putting in this much effort into making a multiversal vlog makes it cooler, ironically.

Putting in this much effort to make a multiversal vlog when the doomed timelines are all inherently fuckin' doomed, as the name implies, and therefore functionally useless to communicate with, makes it more ironic.

I have Heart powers and am able to achieve my ultimate self through my alpha timeline. Therefore, not only is this pimped-out vlog functionally useless, but I actually don't need it at all.

Which means this wasn't too hard to set up to begin with. Ironic, considering the complex presupposed conditions necessary for bridging that 'verse gap.

And despite framing this as a vlog, this is obviously a blog.

Even though it's just a blog, all these drawings I've made had you convinced that I really thought I was posting a vlog.

And in a way, I'm still making one. It ain't the traditional format, but the almost videographic mannerisms I've been laying on you more than compensate for the fact that the video part of "vlog" doesn't exist.

Except it does, for me.

And because it does, none of these pictures are drawn to begin with. They're all film stills. Screenshots, if you prefer.

Which makes the qualifier of "poorly drawn" untrue.

But it's also almost true, because you can call them poorly drawn by virtue of them not even being drawn. Ride that definition of "poorly" down the one-way rail and you're here, selfie central, population two, me and you.

Of course, that means we have to cover the quandary of truth itself. What constitutes the truth? Titillate that thought for a second.

If I consider the attached files to be selfies, but you consider them to be illustrations, which is it actually?

An analysis of the "truth" means that we have to start delineating how much of this is subjective, tying us in bed with the concept of knowledge. The Socratic take calls for dialectical conversation and inquiry via questioning; therefore, if I just bequeath my knowledge to you on a pretty little metaphorical platter, it won't mean fuckall. So we have to keep digging. Get your pickaxe ready, 'cause we ain't hitting any diamonds of wisdom any time soon.

In fact, maybe that ain't the right direction. Flip it turnways. We gotta climb a li'l higher for what we need.

Maybe we gotta head to the roof.

now. brought cal.

where making this HAPEN.

Haha.

Just fuckin' with you.

Welcome to my blog, dude.

Want water? Imagine I got you a nice, chilled glass.

Let's get this parasocial relationship pumping.

Questions? Concerns? Misguided pseudo-parental queries about whether or not it's safe for your pipsqueak to be exposed to a full dose of radically Stridered bullshit?

Cool.

Make it all three and drop it in the asks, yeah?

#Dirk Strider #Homestuck #Homestuck Fanart #Bro Strider #Ask Blog #((#No set timeline! primarily dirk but occasionally other splinters. yeah that includes scratch because why not. it sounds funny.#not a kinnie not a fictive! just a guy with a little bit of time and some bad ideas.#please note that it took dirk approximately five hours in the video to get ready. thank you.#yes the intro is one very lengthy quasi-shitpost. I was going to cover sincerity and the socratic dialogues even more #except it was already really long. lol. anyway I don't have 3 hours to write a more detailed explanation of all the layers of irony but #'trust me bro'#this is a regular askblog despite being named like one of the 'badlydrawn' ones.#im not gonna write long ass monologues at everything i just thought it'd be funny here #i'll spice up the actual blog layout later. for now - hope you enjoyed!#Also - runs not daily prob closer to weekly))

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sexgod69real · 3 months

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art dump

i wanna animate smth soon

#dave strider #did system #bro strider #limp bizkit #homestuck fanart #jade harley #june egbert #john egbert #hi #homestuck fictive #procreate #homestuck

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ur-fav-malewifey · 7 months

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Lyrics that give off such johnshi vibes (both /pos and /neg);

"Even if my heart stops beating, you're the only thing I need, ooh, with me. Even if the earth starts shaking, you're the only thing worth taking, ooh, with me. Even if the sky's on fire, got you here, it's alright, ooh, with me. And if it's all over, I'm taking this moment, ooh, with me...yeah, pretty boy, you did this with me, boy, Now it's all about to end. Baby girl, look where we made it, girl."

"I just really hate your face, though I know that won't surprise you, but, to me, your skin is one big wart and your laugh is one big snort, and you stink, so in short, I despise you / i just really like your face, you don't have to look so happy, I'm not really into love that you flaunt, in some glittery font, but if that's what you want, make it snappy / i just really miss your face, though, i know, i must disgust you, i had tried to be the stubbornest mule, 'cause i know life was cruel, so i guess i was foolish to trust you."

"Sometimes, you look the same, just like you did before the accident, when you're staring into space, it's hard to Believe you don't remember it, woke up in the ambulance, you pieced it all together on the drive. I know you don't remember calling me, but I told you, even then you looked so pretty, in a hospital bed, i remember you said you were scared, and so was i."

"Did you get enough love, my little dove, why do you cry? And I'm sorry I left, but it was for the best, though it never felt right, my little versailles. The hospital asked should the body be cast, before I say goodbye, my star in the sky, such a funny thought to wrap you up in cloth, do you find it alright, My dragonfly?...shall we look at the moon, my little loon, why do you cry? Make the most of your life, while it is rife, while it is light."

"Hey, would it be so bad if I stayed? I'm just a ghost out of his grave, and I can't make love in my grave, I won't put white into your hair, I won't make noises in your stairs, I will be kind and I'll be sweet, if you stop staring straight through me."

- Johnny (written; 10/08/23)

#johnny cage fictive #mortal kombat fictive #osdd system #kenshi takahashi #mk1 #johnshi #my soul is crushed #bro #I'm so sad

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rab1darachn1d · 1 month

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every damn time😒

#LEAVE MY FUCKING HANGNAILS ALONE BRO #first time properly mentioning i have fictives in a post #ooo mental disorder jumpscare!!!#endos dni #tw blood #very poorly drawn but just in case #shitposting hours #trying to not be scared to talk abt my brain ppl #bc i like talking abt the not fucked up parts of having a fucked up disorder!!

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nomsfaultau · 10 months

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[an excerpt from Fault, from the Cessation epoch. This is a SBI SCP AU. The SCP Foundation found a clever method of simultaneously training MTF units and sufficiently terrorizing a Thaumiel into summoning an escaped Keter.]

The game was called Target Practice and it went like this:

Tommy was being hunted.

The maze was dark and twisting and decidedly urban, the floor littered with debris and gravel that cut into his bare feet, the twisting industry pipes and concrete walls riddled with holes and offering very meager protection as he raced through, slamming into walls and battering himself and not carrying because he needed to run before he was found. To be cautious was to be caught. Whatever nooks and crannies he shoved himself into were hardly cover, though they caught the bullets racing towards him. Well. Most of them, anyways; they didn’t play target practice anymore for a reason.

(They’d always liked to use the Instigator for training.)

To be fair, not everyone had guns for target practice. Some had crackling tasers, and many had nets. The goal was to train up Mobile Task Forces, teach them how to go about capturing a SCP. How to herd its movement, how to corner it, how to pin it down until it stopped resisting. Learn how it thinks. Does it race down the dark corridors, frantically dashing in wild directions praying it runs into nothing, or does it hide like a cockroach? If so, where? Into the subterranean tunnels, where every footstep echoes thunderously and betrays every whimper? Into the towers, knowing it’ll take longer to be found but that there’s no way down as the fleet sweeps the rooms in well trained searches? Ah, there we are, pinned, shaking, in the corner of a back room. Very good, ensign, now you’re thinking like a monster. Quick, use the right radio channel, that’s it. Teamwork is the one advantage we have over them. Remember that in the field.

It was not possible to win Target Practice, only prolong it. This was done by jolting still at every gun shot, waiting to realize if he was dead. This was done by clamping his hand over his mouth, refusing to breathe as footsteps raced past. This was done by learning how to not scream and betray his position when a bullet exploded mere centimeters away from his face, caught by half a cannibalized refrigerator, freezing because to run was to be caught. By doing anything and everything so he wouldn’t cry, because he could already see so little. By not caring about the gravel and slivers of glass that sliced into his feet, sprinting at full speed even if he knew the bloodied footprints marked his trail. By tucking his hands to his chest and not touching a single thing, though he was always so easy to find given the pooling Red that only grew worse the longer the game went on. The groups were always different, sometimes sneaking shadows that peeled out of nowhere, sometimes whooping and shouting with glee as they peppered bullets into the space mere seconds behind him, sometimes coordinated, sometimes not, sometimes fighting amongst themselves for the honor of who caught the game. Tommy taught each one exactly how to ruin someone else’s life, but it’s not like he could do anything but flee deep into the dark maze, heart hammering, Red racing.

It never worked for long. The ending was different every time. Maybe he’d find himself suddenly plucked out of hiding, struggling in a head lock until the dark went even darker. Maybe he’d be at the top of a tower, listening to every hiding spot below being cleared, the approaching team only growing nearer because there was nowhere else to go. Maybe it was a sprinter who overcame his slight head start, the pair crashing to the ground, debris digging into his skin. Maybe it was being cornered by a large group, countless guns trained on him. Maybe a trap laid, him crashing into a net and becoming hopelessly tangled. Maybe it was a bullet that failed to miss.

Game over! Better luck next time!

Tommy was recaptured and he always would be. And then target practice was played again, and again, either until there were no more trainee units left to be tested…or until there were no more trainee units left. Usually this was after a few rounds of the cat and mouse game. Maybe it ended in mortal terror, crimson spilling out runes on the manufactured floor, a beacon of ruby illuminating the dark maze. Maybe it ended with the brutal finality of The Blood God’s vengeance. The roles jarringly swapped, the hunters now forced to survive. If they did…well. They graduated from training with a promotion as bonus. Clearly they were worthy.

He wondered how they were tested now, because the Foundation no longer played Target Practice.

The cover, poor as it was, had always saved him before. Tommy had very little luck in his life, and most of it was used surviving Target Practice. (It was bad luck, in a way. Someone forgot the rules, got over zealous. They’d earned Keter duty for that mistake.) He’d been in the sprawling underground tunnels, tucked into a tangle of pipes. When the bullet had slammed into his shoulder, exploding everything in dark garnet, his scream had rattled through the faux sewer. Tommy had immediately run blindly, adrenaline numbing it all. The tone shift had been terrifying, too, since the trainees before hand had been the type to treat it like a game, making wolf howls and laughing. The moment Tommy was shot they’d become serious, voices clipped over radios and tactics stone as they efficiently tracked down the wounded animal, corralling it and cutting off escape routes, having it knocked out within minutes. It wasn’t the first summoning session where he’d woken up in a hospital bed, brain fuzzy with pain meds and fear.

They never played Target Practice again.

(It wasn’t hard to convince the Instigator it’d made it out having only been grazed. Then again, it was easy to lie to, given it thought them real bullets in the first place.)

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seiko-yume · 9 months

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So there’s been some harassment among the COTL fandom regarding fictionkin and some kins feeling like they’re entitled to restrict other people’s creative freedom just because they kin a character, and I think this needs to be said, because I’ve seen this happen in multiple fandoms time and time again.

When a person draws a character from a fandom, or a property you don’t own/didn’t create, that you also happen to identify as, they aren’t trying to draw YOU. They aren’t drawing the character in any association to YOU specifically. Yes, you may feel connected to the character or the art in some form, but they wren’t trying to draw YOU.

If they draw the character you also happen to identify as in a manner that somehow makes you feel uncomfortable, because you see yourself in that character, just BLOCK them. Because, again, they are not drawing YOU. They are drawing a CHARACTER from pre-existing media that you happen to also identify as.

Feeling so attached to a character that you feel the need to go out of your way and harass people, some who may not even know you, for simply drawing the character in a certain manner is not a healthy attachment.

You can identify as a character, but the character on its own, of a pre-existing media and brand, will always stay separate from you, yourself, and your iteration of that character as you identify as them.

You don’t owe asking someone for permission if it’s okay to headcanon a character they don’t own as something, or drawing them on a manner they deem as worthy. You can just make art. Kinning shouldn’t mean gatekeeping art.

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk, from one Lamb kin to my followers.

#i’m not putting this in the tags bro some people are insane #i also dont want to clog it with drama or vagueposting so this is just a general reminder to everyone here #i was going to include a section about fictives and how most know they’re not their source but I felt like it was chastisizing #seiko speaks #long post

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tricky-bastard-pokemon · 6 months

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writers: do y'all ever get so in-tune with your characters that you get mad at them for doing stupid shit? and, like, yeah, you could technically NOT have them do that stupid shit. but that stupid shit is what the character wants to do. you have no choice. not really.

#moon.wrds #funnier as a system #funnier as a fictive #bro's possessing my brain and making me write him be so fucking dumb

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our-inspire-verse · 2 months

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