#inexact

[infawrit10]

I know you’ve been working on lots of sanders sides stuff, so of course no pressure, but I am big fan of the inexact sciences and I was wondering if there’ll be an update any time soon? No pressure at all, just wanted to let you know that I’m still interested :D

Hope everything is going well for you and dude it’s so crazy that welcome to hell is 10 yrs old???

Hey there!

First of all, thank you for letting me know you’re still interested. I was kinda thinking everybody forgot about that little piece of mine since it hasn’t updated in forever!

Truth be told, I was supposed to finish it in 2020, but… yeah.

But I haven’t stopped working on it! I’m currently writing the final two chapters, and I’m happy to say the second to last is almost complete! I’ve even got extra motivation now given how people are using AI to complete unfinished fics (as incredibly fucked up and selfish as that is), so you should see something soon, especially since I have a LOT of free time for the moment, and since I want to move on to different projects (I’m planning a super secret project with my boyfriend that I’m really excited about, and I have fic and an original novel I want to write, as well).

TLDR: Yeah! I have like, two more sections to write on the second to last chapter, and I would like to finish the book by the end of this year! (To anyone who reads Life’s a Drag, this pertains to that fic also!)

Also, YEAH, it’s fucking WILD that W2H is 10 years old. Especially given I’ve been a fan of it for about 8 of those 😳 I feel elderly.

Thank you so much for the ask, love! I’m doing okay (after not being okay for a while, which makes being okay now a lot sweeter to me 😊), and I hope you are, too 😘

#Inexact #W2H #welcome to hell

[vamn3stlyq]

SEXO ORGIA MADURA FOLLANDO CACHONDA TETONA Amateur russian teen blowjob MILF sucks cock blowjob glasses mamada con lentes y gorra Lusty cheerleader with pigtails Tai Angel gives sloppy and wet bj Femdom Mistress Lusinda facesitting, ass licking, pussy licking Amateur poolboy fucks twinks tight ass Two sexy big tit milfs Angel Wicky and Blanche Bradburry share thick fat cock in threesome Bionda modella pompino e nel culo Theesome the best friend

#launderess #irreproducible #Galicia #underaccommodated #inexact #bobber #south-preceding #dressmaking #twitting #basso-rilievo #palingenesis #feta #cauf #anatomists #nonsensation #underground #memoranda #dornic #extraparochial #proletarianness

[runningwolf62]

I hope everyone realizes now that Dracula literally cannot steer the ship. The captain tied himself to the helm and a crucifix (he alluded to this earlier in one of his logs) and thus Dracula can't touch it.

Additionally Dracula's powers weaken during the day (iirc he can be in sunlight but his powers don't work) so he has to steer the ship via weather at night.

The man has been buffeting the ship with wind to get to England.

#A very inexact way of driving #Thus why the Captain's corpse looks like that #Dracula daily

[aibidil]

please remember not to be ableist or xenophobic in your comments! Showering frequency is morally neutral and there are ways to not smell without showering! The increase in shower frequency in many places in the early 20thC was largely driven by the ad campaigns of soap companies, not health needs. Cultural factors are at play as well as racial, gender, and access factors, too—but I'm dying to see the breakdown by neurotype. (In general, men shower more than women, and people in hot countries shower more than people in mild countries.)

#showering #neurodivergence #baths count #reblog for inexact science #🚿

[basofy]

this is so weird but i dont care you can have it LOL

#you think he wouldnt befriend a GIANT RAINBOW PENIS #i would #ive had kyuu as a favorite for so long funny thing is i disliked him at first #hmmmmmm that happens a lot actuallyyyy #also the heights here are inexact but who cares #my stuff #yume nikki #lisa the painful #lisa rpg #garth lisa rpg #kyuu kyuu kun

[averseunhinged]

wip wednesday! i am returned from the pits of lung ick and doom.

this is for @purplesigebert and @trueromantic1, but idk if this is remotely what you had in mind. it veered off to angstville a teensy bit along the way. it's also klaus/caroline/stefan in its soul, but stefan's hella dead. so.

it's sort of a sanctuary/the librarians/warehouse 13 theme fusion in which caroline is a research librarian in a sentient, extradimensional library. no magic babies. klaus still went to new orleans and got all grabby hands over it. the entire cast of tvd, minus caroline, died at the end of season 5 when the other side collapsed and took mystic falls with it.

He was silent on the stairs as they descended and remained that way as she lead him through the rabbit's warren of echoing hallways lined with closed, barred doors, part of the Library's natural defense system.

At the first checkpoint, she finally broke. “What do you want, Klaus? You did not donate enough to get an all-access pass just for a tour of the Bodleian from me. You don't need a tour of the Bodleian. You probably helped build the Bodleian.”

“I like the hair," he ignored her question. "The glasses. Very clever. Makes you look older. Authoritative.”

“And don't start with the flirting." She pulled her flexible ID chip in its retractable holder with more snap than necessary and held it out to the reader. A row of tiny lights turned green and the door unlocked with a muffled click. She opened the door and felt the distant brush of the Library greeting her, soothing despite its natural inclination to grumpiness and her own Original-induced temper. "I haven't just made myself look older. I'm seventy-four. I have more degrees than anyone can fit at the end of my name and a gaggle of grad students waiting for me. I have a warlock's extensive estate scheduled to begin arriving from Cumbria this afternoon," she opened the door, ushering Klaus through, "in distressingly soggy condition, because he was well over two hundred years old and absentminded about preservation."

He trailed after her at an easier pace than her own, forcing her to slow down if she didn't want to leave him behind. “That sounds like an interesting challenge.”

“Are you making small talk? What the hell, Klaus.”

"I—" he tilted his head toward her, as though to hear her better, but his arms were perfectly still at his sides, hands wooden, “—yes. I am attempting to draw you into conversation about your work."

Caroline once had to remove a dead witch from the Bodleian proper during Trinity reading week in nearly an hour of awkwardly harrowing Weekend at Bernie's reenactment. At one point, she'd had to hurl the body behind a display case to help a first year in crisis over a missing source article that had, nevertheless, been referenced in four subsequent sources. She'd still never been so relieved to see the last checkpoint before the entrance to the Library as she was with Klaus at her side.

She placed her hand in the center of the door's intricately carved medallion and waited for it to acknowledge her. The Library skimmed over Caroline's being, lazy from decades of connection and more than comfortable with her presence. It was less gentle with Klaus, if his sudden, pained breath was any indication, but the door warmed under her touch, a golden glow spreading molten into the runic array, seeping out to the edges until the door shimmered away to nothing, leaving the entrance of a circular, brass cage.

"Interesting," he murmured, discomfort brushed aside by fascination. She'd always enjoyed that about him. It had never been the promises and the gifts and the flattery that made her wish he hadn't been otherwise impossible. His curiosity, the variety of interests and depth of knowledge, had been like no-one she'd ever known. She remembered every conversation she'd ever had with him, a claim that couldn't be shared with anyone else she'd known briefly nearly a century prior.

She stepped into the cage and beckoned him with a hand to her left side. "Coming?"

"What is this, exactly?" he questioned, even though he did as she'd indicated.

"A lift," she answered and swung the curved gate around, completing the circle, "of sorts. Or so we refer to it. It's really a gateway, but people get a little nervous when you start talking about dimensional travel."

Any further questioning was cut off when the brass cage sparked with the same light as the door had, spreading until its occupants were engulfed. Caroline breathed through the lurching tremble of distortion and the squeezing yank in every direction, the terrifying weightlessness of momentarily ceasing to exist in time or space.

When reality reasserted itself, Klaus was crouched, one hand on the ground, gasping. Caroline stood primly, hands clasped in front of her.

"Welcome to the Library," she stated, impassive as any bored tour guide. "The Bodleian entrance was created during World War II, the result of a casual agreement between adversaries to avoid destroying key universities."

Klaus gritted out her name as he stood, unsteady and even paler than typical, veins darkening around his eyes.

Caroline ignored him, staring straight ahead. "I've learned things, gone places, met people even your millennium couldn't have shown you." She unfolded her hand to gesture around in a smooth, practiced motion to the rotunda's warm brass and red-toned wood structure, its mercurial filigree detailing and shifting aurora of the dome above. "Don't make the mistake of thinking I'm still that little girl you tried to tempt away into the woods."

That barb was one that clawed into him. "It was not like that." He looked away from her, eyes darting around the room without truly seeing, in an attempt to control his temper. "Don't make it sound so tawdry." Caroline slowly turned her entire body to stare at him, unimpressed. He shut his eyes for a moment, longer than a blink, but not long enough to give the impression that she wasn't his entire focus. He made a small, beseeching move towards her, and his eyes were as intense as they'd always been, begging some question she’d never known the answer to. "That afternoon was the happiest I can remember being."

When she laughed, it was an ugly sound. "Good for you. If you'll follow me, I'm afraid you'll have to endure a morning of dull administrative tasks. You are, of course, welcome to leave at any time."

“I'm sorry, Caroline!” he called out after her. He sounded strained and desperate. She halted, lungs seizing and abdomen clenching. “I'm sorry they died.”

Every day. She missed them every day. She missed Bonnie's tenacity. Her quiet grace. Elena's wild, foolish bravery and deep well of compassion. She missed Matt's honesty. His so human morality. Enzo and his halfway-to-crazy attempts to help her grow up, whose death broke her heart far more than she would have expected. She missed her mom's steady practicality. Those moments of kindness bridging the gap between them that never quite went away. Her father, Tyler. They hadn't been very good at loving her in the end, but they had loved her. That’s what she remembered.

She even missed Damon. Sometimes. A little bit. Maybe.

“I'm sorry Stefan died,” he continued, and that one hurt.

Stefan. Stefan. Stefan of the gentle touches and soft, encouraging words. The late-night-early-morning whispers to each other in her bed, forehead to forehead, cuddled up as close as two people could be. Who preferred being the little spoon and understood how afraid she was to love him, because he was just as afraid to love her back. After all, they knew the people they loved would always, always leave them.

Her best friend. Her almost lover. She took care of him, even when he thought she shouldn't. He protected her, even when it was from himself.

Last one standing was a dog shit bonfire of a title to hold.

And he was sorry.

“Don't talk about Stefan.” She walked away from him. Her heels sounded like bullets as they struck the floor. “You don't have the right.”

#klaroline wip wed #klefaroline #technically #sort of #i know where this is going #but the plot is still shall we say inexact #there will be some kind of dangerous retrieval hijinks #with klaus insisting on coming along for the ride #and they will Work Things Out along the way #as you do

[rabbits-of-negative-euphoria]

My suspicion is that the only reason working out would be less strongly tied to groundedness in women is because we already have a stronger intrinsic connection to the physical due to the nature of our bodies

Well, (and correct me if I’ve misunderstood you) but I don’t think the guys are discovering something physical through their workouts, I think they’re discovering something spiritual.

For example, as a woman, when I read Nancy Pearcey’s Love Thy Body, which described the hylomorphic state to me for the first time, it upended my whole worldview, and to this day I’m still discovering straggling scraps of materialism or Gnosticism in the chinks of my worldview. Moreover, that knowledge helped me to consider my body as me, rather than something I have, or something I live in, or as I was often wont to do, an adversary. (Fittingly, I am now being tested by the dysfunction of my gallbladder.) I feel like I was never truly connected to the physical until I read that book. Not just with regard to my body, but also the world around me, and the relationships I’m in. And certainly focused physical activity strengthens that sense of unity between physical and metaphysical and reaffirms that the metaphysical is in fact, real.

I suppose the question in my mind is: If I can come to knowledge of the physical via spiritual discipline, can someone else come to knowledge of the spiritual via physical discipline? And is this a channel more accessible to men than to women, perhaps because their bodies do change so much faster and more drastically with physical activity than women’s do? etc. etc.

#- HK #I’m on my fifteen so I can’t elaborate much more than that but I could probably keep asking theoreticals for hours #mobile #x #health #and so much of the language I’ve used here is so inexact

[obstinatecondolement]

My sister was saying "You should write that idea for a novel about [REDACTED] that you had a while ago for NaNo. I think that could be really fun" and I was like oh yeah! I remember we got a kick out of that one. And then, after a pause, had be like... could you remind me what the plot was again? Because litearlly all I could remember was that it had been funny At The Time and involved [REDACTED].

It was like when my mum reads a book and strongly recommends it to me the day after she finishes it, but can't remember any of the characters names or what happened, but it was definitely very good and I should read it so we can talk about it!

Except this was a story I made up myself and devoted not an insignificant amount of thought to, and then never committed any of what I came up with to the page because it was still early stages and I would "remember" what my initial ideas were 🙄

#fortunately my sister did remember enough that it kickstarted my brain and I remembered #but jesus christ... #how many perfectly good ideas have I squandered because I didn't think I would forget about them? #it's one thing not ever writing stuff I had ideas for because of y'know *gestures towards my general inability to follow through on things* #but actually forgetting ideas entirely feels much worse #I miss having an eidetic memory :( #but also I kind of wish I'd never had it because I never developed the habit of writing things down to remember them #until WELL into adulthood #because I'd ever needed to for most of my life #I just remembered every single word I had ever read or heard and almost every idea I'd given more than passing thought to in perfect detail #as a child I'd get so angry about people getting single words of quotations wrong or misremembering minute details of conversations we'd ha #because I *did not understand* that they weren't just being sloppy and inexact #and that they really couldn't remember things the same way I could #I really did not understand that other people experienced the world differently to me at that age #when they contradicted what I believed to be universal truths I thought they were trying to upset me or make me feel bad about myself #like when my friend agreed with my parents that apple juice was nicer than orange juice (when no one could *really* believe that) #I fully felt that as a betrayal #and thought she was implicitly co-signing my parents to hurt me #and that the subtext of the criticism was that I was evil and self indulgent for not resisting the wicked temptations of orange juice #and never even trying to be virtuous and subject myself to apple juice #which was obviously not as nice but was the more moral and 'healthy' (which was the same things as moral) choice #oh christ this has gotten away from me... #I hate being triggered by dumb bullshit that brings me back to weird esoteric traumas from my youth #can I please stop being triggered by such embarrassingly trivial bullshit for five minutes???

[treeheehoohoodraws]

Her name is Inexact Verdict. She's my iterator oc and a crazy slugcat person. Her slugcat colony is living inside her can and help her maintain herself in exchange for shelter. I love her sm

#my art i guess #my oc art #original character #that's my hashtag teehee #artists on tumblr #digital art #iterator #rain world #rain world iterator #iterator oc #slugcat oc #rain world slugcats #Inexact Verdict #The Engineers slugcats #i love my ocs #rain world oc

[transingthoseformers]

Sometimes fic inspires me, and I just want dark, depressing fic.

Like. I don't even know what version of canon. IDW? Prime? Probably more Prime? I'd say it's almost like SG?

Anyway. Orion Pax becomes Prime, and unfortunately, even if he once had noble intentions, he ends up as corrupt as the other Primes. Perhaps there's a rot in the Matrix. Perhaps bots just can't be trusted with that sort of power.

He does have a bodyguard who is always one step behind him, as quiet and still as a statue. He is, however, quite recognizable. It's Megatron, former Champion of the Pits.

This Megatron, however, if he ever protested against the corruption in government, he doesn't anymore.

Instead, he serves the mech he loves, whom he gave his spark to, who kisses him in private but ignores him in public.

A low-caste labourer, even one as famous as Megatron, can never be allowed to sully the Prime.

When he's alone, when Optimus dismisses him, he sometimes raises a servo to his chestplate and thinks about the small, flickering spark orbiting his own.

Would Optimus acknowledge their sparkling? Send it away so as not to tarnish his image? Once Megatron was certain he knew the answer, but times have changed. They have changed.

But hope is the last thing that dies in a mech.

So a continuity blend, okay okay

Ohhhoh now this? This could go in so many interesting directions based on what you use it for

I have two answers to this

Answer one: the unique scenario

So I exactly imagined the shattered glass designs (or at least Megatron's shattered glass design), and a blend of the backstories for SG, TFP, and IDW.

Maybe more heavily Aligned leaning on Optimus's backstory and his connection with Megs, more IDW leaning when it comes to the worldbuilding of the setting itself (because I feel like adding the IDW flavor of the Senate, Functionists, and all the nasties going on in the background would be interesting), aaaand pretty split down the middle of SG/TFP/MTMTE when it comes to Megatron himself because I've thought way so much about blending the backstory we see for him in mtmte with the one we know he has in aligned.... But also because I mostly imagined his shattered glass design here.

Answer two: the answer based on a pre-existing fic

Remember this? I do!

My second thought upon seeing the word bodyguard was "wait like in [The path less travelled by was paved with good intentions]?"

Let's just say your ask sounded to me like a possible future event along that "bad timeline" where Megs didn't step away.

#maccadam #transformers #ideas #I think we have a fic lying around where Megatronus is the prime's bodyguard_ where they've got an interesting connection :) #spitballing #megatron #Optimus prime #orion pax #< same guy #fanfiction #fic rec #... kinda #i need to start tagging those as ones i give and ones i am given #transformers shattered glass #... kinda... #take a shot every time i say 'kinda' or 'probably' or words like that on this blog and you will die of alchohol poisoning #i use a lot of inexact and informal words when i am unsure (which is often) #i hope my portion of this was coherent

[infawrit10]

What a beautiful day to work on Inexact.

#Inexact #W2H #coming soon…

[farsight-the-char]

Lady Hestia, out of no where: "May I touch you, I wish to share your blessings." My very gay Zealot: *Goes full useless lesbian*

#the hestia quote is real #girl.... #okay I may have gotten the quote inexact but I got the spirit #warhammer #darktide #adeptus ministorum #40k #I like her

[fluentisonus]

rip my professor for saying 'in the next couple of weeks' because he's getting it at exactly the two weeks mark & no earlier

#inexact deadlines I hate you #thoughts

[fallingtowers]

another problem i think is that when people hear "classical music" they think of like mozart and vivaldi. those guys are fine btw but when i talk about liking classical music i'm talking about like debussy and ravel and rachmaninoff and stravinsky and scriabin which is like a whole different bag

#''classical music'' is an extremely inexact term which covers like 400 yrs of music history

[robocops-a-christ-allegory]

I think most people have some form of mental issues and we need to accept that not in the stupid dismissive “so buck up already!!” way but instead in the “so please stop talking about people with psychotic spectrum disorders and/or personality disorders like they are possessed by demons” way

#This includes people with like NPD ASPD and shit #Nobody is inherently fucked up because of their diagnosis even ignoring that diangoses are like #inexact shit made by people making a best guess based on like the kinds of symptoms you have and not like #set in stone shit that defines you #like a SHRED of fucking solidarity please #instead of everybody turning on each other like well my high empathy is better and more moral then your low empathy #or my lack of delusions and hallucinations makes me better then you because youre more prone to stuff like that #anyway.

[sysig]

Something of an exploding star kind of space vent art (Patreon)

#My art #Vent #Space art #Pretend it's a gif my space gifs are always too big for tumblr #Still loving one warm one cool version but this time have a mid-tone between them #Tried something a big different for the atmosphere/photons off the planets as well #Previous I've been using the ruler tool but I hated having to fit it as exactly to the planet as I could - it always felt off and clunky #So I just flattened the planet itself and blurred it above and below and then erased all but the outline #I can cheat a bit since it's all quite inexact #That planet in the background must be gigantic or else have maybe satellites or extremely small stars haha #Normally I wouldn't put stars between the planets but I wanted to so there #Something of a dark tendrils look as well to contrast with the foreground star - a bit more wiggly and organic fleshy #I do really like the cool blues against the harsh reds of the nebulas despite them being the same colour just different backgrounds #It's fun to see the differences #Subtle bi colours on the main planet as well #Maybe a lighter blue but y'know - pretty colours #If it wasn't vent maybe sometime I'd do some pride space - as long as the colours don't get too muddy #Well maybe another time