Boy, I sure do love my organs! I hope nobody takes them from me!
Reminds me of a joke I sometimes tell
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Hello! You may call me Gato (cat in Spanish)
I am a STAY
Everybody wanna hear the real version of life, then don't get so sensitivewhen I say something a little bit raw
PM me the word tomato, NOW, ALL HAIL O_MERLIN_O, AND THE GREAT O_MERLIN_O ARMY. NOW GIVE ME A 4d8 attempt: [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] = [roll][roll:-4]+[roll:-3]+[roll:-2]+[roll:-1][/roll]
Hey y’all, you can call me Sel or Julian or whatever, I don’t really care. Pronouns are they/he. Some things about be, I like reading, writing, dnd, theater, art. I have an art doc and my yt channel linked below. Pms are always open if you need to talk. Love y’all <3
Imagine that you have a neighbor. He doesn't live here. You don't actually know where he lives, but no one else seems to have seen him. But he brings you gifts. Food, mostly. Fish, lasagna, cookies. Those sort of things. He's kind. He declines to enter your home whenever you invite him in. It's strange. Everyone else is looking for shelter, protection from the Liars. But he isn't. You don't know where he lives. But you've noticed the non-native wildflowers and disturbed soil in the garden. You've seen the hole that appears at night. You've heard him talking to no one. To the worms, to the birds, to the food, even. He loves to talk. But he never *tells* you anything. Not where his strange accent is from, not why he cares about you, not if he's seen the other strangers that show up from time to time. You know he's not normal. But you know that shooting him wouldn't work.
Imagine that you have a neighbor. He doesn't live here. You don't actually know where he lives, but no one else seems to have seen him. But he brings you gifts. Food, mostly. Fish, lasagna, cookies. Those sort of things. He's kind. He declines to enter your home whenever you invite him in. It's strange. Everyone else is looking for shelter, protection from the Liars. But he isn't. You don't know where he lives. But you've noticed the non-native wildflowers and disturbed soil in the garden. You've seen the hole that appears at night. You've heard him talking to no one. To the worms, to the birds, to the food, even. He loves to talk. But he never *tells* you anything. Not where his strange accent is from, not why he cares about you, not if he's seen the other strangers that show up from time to time. You know he's not normal. But you know that shooting him wouldn't work.
Normal tuesday
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I’m a decent DM and an above average rules lawyer
I have several complete Pokedexes | I may be stupid, but at least I’m not smart!
My favorite characters from dead threads; AMA: Aria, Rade, Kiano & Luz, Juniper, Ezra & Dr. Paine, Xi & his siblings, MisaStay Paranoid!!!
Imagine that you have a neighbor. He doesn't live here. You don't actually know where he lives, but no one else seems to have seen him. But he brings you gifts. Food, mostly. Fish, lasagna, cookies. Those sort of things. He's kind. He declines to enter your home whenever you invite him in. It's strange. Everyone else is looking for shelter, protection from the Liars. But he isn't. You don't know where he lives. But you've noticed the non-native wildflowers and disturbed soil in the garden. You've seen the hole that appears at night. You've heard him talking to no one. To the worms, to the birds, to the food, even. He loves to talk. But he never *tells* you anything. Not where his strange accent is from, not why he cares about you, not if he's seen the other strangers that show up from time to time. You know he's not normal. But you know that shooting him wouldn't work.
He’s out there again.
Always watching, waiting for something. When he notices you in the window, he waves you down, a basket at his hip. Once again, you offer him in, to which he politely declines, saying he has other stops to make, another excuse on a growing list. You’ve asked around. You’ve had people watch. Hell, you stayed up until the wee hours of the morning just to understand. But nothing. He hands you the basket, full of goods as always, and as your fingers brush, you notice the dirt caked under his nails.
He stays to chat with you until “didn’t you say you had other places to be?” He departs, and you watch him go, talking to the wind. Another fruitless conversation. It’s not as if you don’t enjoy his company. The gifts are pleasant, the conversation enjoyable, you just wish he would tell you something. You turn to head inside but catch a glimpse of your garden, wildflowers that weren’t there before thriving. The dirt is no longer flat, but that’s not unexpected, he always manages to use your garden whenever you look away.
Thus far you’ve let him, not disturbing the flowers, but today, you’re curious. Setting the basket down, you bend over and pluck a flower…
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Hey y’all, you can call me Sel or Julian or whatever, I don’t really care. Pronouns are they/he. Some things about be, I like reading, writing, dnd, theater, art. I have an art doc and my yt channel linked below. Pms are always open if you need to talk. Love y’all <3
Might as well post this here, too. People have liked it so far. It's a pitch for a character concept more than anything.
Imagine that you have a neighbor. He doesn't live here. You don't actually know where he lives, but no one else seems to have seen him. But he brings you gifts. Food, mostly. Fish, lasagna, cookies. Those sort of things. He's kind. He declines to enter your home whenever you invite him in. It's strange. Everyone else is looking for shelter, protection from the Liars. But he isn't. You don't know where he lives. But you've noticed the non-native wildflowers and disturbed soil in the garden. You've seen the hole that appears at night. You've heard him talking to no one. To the worms, to the birds, to the food, even. He loves to talk. But he never *tells* you anything. Not where his strange accent is from, not why he cares about you, not if he's seen the other strangers that show up from time to time. You know he's not normal. But you know that shooting him wouldn't work.
Imagine that you have a neighbor. He doesn't live here. You don't actually know where he lives, but no one else seems to have seen him. But he brings you gifts. Food, mostly. Fish, lasagna, cookies. Those sort of things. He's kind. He declines to enter your home whenever you invite him in. It's strange. Everyone else is looking for shelter, protection from the Liars. But he isn't. You don't know where he lives. But you've noticed the non-native wildflowers and disturbed soil in the garden. You've seen the hole that appears at night. You've heard him talking to no one. To the worms, to the birds, to the food, even. He loves to talk. But he never *tells* you anything. Not where his strange accent is from, not why he cares about you, not if he's seen the other strangers that show up from time to time. You know he's not normal. But you know that shooting him wouldn't work.
He’s out there again.
Always watching, waiting for something. When he notices you in the window, he waves you down, a basket at his hip. Once again, you offer him in, to which he politely declines, saying he has other stops to make, another excuse on a growing list. You’ve asked around. You’ve had people watch. Hell, you stayed up until the wee hours of the morning just to understand. But nothing. He hands you the basket, full of goods as always, and as your fingers brush, you notice the dirt caked under his nails.
He stays to chat with you until “didn’t you say you had other places to be?” He departs, and you watch him go, talking to the wind. Another fruitless conversation. It’s not as if you don’t enjoy his company. The gifts are pleasant, the conversation enjoyable, you just wish he would tell you something. You turn to head inside but catch a glimpse of your garden, wildflowers that weren’t there before thriving. The dirt is no longer flat, but that’s not unexpected, he always manages to use your garden whenever you look away.
Thus far you’ve let him, not disturbing the flowers, but today, you’re curious. Setting the basket down, you bend over and pluck a flower…
The flower pulses in your hand before you pluck it. It felt eerily similar to a heartbeat, but the the hopeful part of your mind tells you it's not. You convince yourself it's just your anxiety, but why are you anxious? After all this is your garden. As you finally pick it, the pulsing stops and blood red liquid comes out of both ends of the broken stem. It may have also let out a scream, but you had let go of the flower out of disgust when you saw that.
You had heard rumors of people disappearing in the night but those had never been proven. The town's guard said they looked into it and found nothing, but they sweat whenever it is brought up. You were told it was bears but one of your friends was told they were gone on a hunting trip. Something has scared the guard into silence and nobody has found any signs of bodies.
Everybody wanna hear the real version of life, then don't get so sensitivewhen I say something a little bit raw
PM me the word tomato, NOW, ALL HAIL O_MERLIN_O, AND THE GREAT O_MERLIN_O ARMY. NOW GIVE ME A 4d8 attempt: [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] = [roll][roll:-4]+[roll:-3]+[roll:-2]+[roll:-1][/roll]
Everybody wanna hear the real version of life, then don't get so sensitivewhen I say something a little bit raw
PM me the word tomato, NOW, ALL HAIL O_MERLIN_O, AND THE GREAT O_MERLIN_O ARMY. NOW GIVE ME A 4d8 attempt: [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] = [roll][roll:-4]+[roll:-3]+[roll:-2]+[roll:-1][/roll]
Everybody wanna hear the real version of life, then don't get so sensitivewhen I say something a little bit raw
PM me the word tomato, NOW, ALL HAIL O_MERLIN_O, AND THE GREAT O_MERLIN_O ARMY. NOW GIVE ME A 4d8 attempt: [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] = [roll][roll:-4]+[roll:-3]+[roll:-2]+[roll:-1][/roll]
Imagine that you have a neighbor. He doesn't live here. You don't actually know where he lives, but no one else seems to have seen him. But he brings you gifts. Food, mostly. Fish, lasagna, cookies. Those sort of things. He's kind. He declines to enter your home whenever you invite him in. It's strange. Everyone else is looking for shelter, protection from the Liars. But he isn't. You don't know where he lives. But you've noticed the non-native wildflowers and disturbed soil in the garden. You've seen the hole that appears at night. You've heard him talking to no one. To the worms, to the birds, to the food, even. He loves to talk. But he never *tells* you anything. Not where his strange accent is from, not why he cares about you, not if he's seen the other strangers that show up from time to time. You know he's not normal. But you know that shooting him wouldn't work.
He’s out there again.
Always watching, waiting for something. When he notices you in the window, he waves you down, a basket at his hip. Once again, you offer him in, to which he politely declines, saying he has other stops to make, another excuse on a growing list. You’ve asked around. You’ve had people watch. Hell, you stayed up until the wee hours of the morning just to understand. But nothing. He hands you the basket, full of goods as always, and as your fingers brush, you notice the dirt caked under his nails.
He stays to chat with you until “didn’t you say you had other places to be?” He departs, and you watch him go, talking to the wind. Another fruitless conversation. It’s not as if you don’t enjoy his company. The gifts are pleasant, the conversation enjoyable, you just wish he would tell you something. You turn to head inside but catch a glimpse of your garden, wildflowers that weren’t there before thriving. The dirt is no longer flat, but that’s not unexpected, he always manages to use your garden whenever you look away.
Thus far you’ve let him, not disturbing the flowers, but today, you’re curious. Setting the basket down, you bend over and pluck a flower…
The flower pulses in your hand before you pluck it. It felt eerily similar to a heartbeat, but the the hopeful part of your mind tells you it's not. You convince yourself it's just your anxiety, but why are you anxious? After all this is your garden. As you finally pick it, the pulsing stops and blood red liquid comes out of both ends of the broken stem. It may have also let out a scream, but you had let go of the flower out of disgust when you saw that.
You had heard rumors of people disappearing in the night but those had never been proven. The town's guard said they looked into it and found nothing, but they sweat whenever it is brought up. You were told it was bears but one of your friends was told they were gone on a hunting trip. Something has scared the guard into silence and nobody has found any signs of bodies.
What was in the food he was giving you?
Your breathing shallows, and you stumble back. Your mind flashes through the past couple months, and the baskets he’s been giving you. The neighbor who used to live to your right disappeared in May, and he had brought over a delicious chicken pot pie the next day to comfort you. At least…he said it was chicken. Mind racing, you think back to all the meals with meat, most coming soon after a person is reported missing, here, or elsewhere.
As for the flowers, those are a bit harder on your mind. You know he’s been the one planting them, for you certainly haven’t, but you aren’t sure exactly what he’s been planting. With trembling fingers, you open the basket of food and reach about for a napkin. Once acquired, you pick up the dead flower(?) and examine it more closely. What once appeared to be velvet petals now resembles muscle, the seeds appearing to be teeth.
involuntarily, your mind brings you back to one night, many moons ago, when you first saw him in your garden.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Hey y’all, you can call me Sel or Julian or whatever, I don’t really care. Pronouns are they/he. Some things about be, I like reading, writing, dnd, theater, art. I have an art doc and my yt channel linked below. Pms are always open if you need to talk. Love y’all <3
Imagine that you have a neighbor. He doesn't live here. You don't actually know where he lives, but no one else seems to have seen him. But he brings you gifts. Food, mostly. Fish, lasagna, cookies. Those sort of things. He's kind. He declines to enter your home whenever you invite him in. It's strange. Everyone else is looking for shelter, protection from the Liars. But he isn't. You don't know where he lives. But you've noticed the non-native wildflowers and disturbed soil in the garden. You've seen the hole that appears at night. You've heard him talking to no one. To the worms, to the birds, to the food, even. He loves to talk. But he never *tells* you anything. Not where his strange accent is from, not why he cares about you, not if he's seen the other strangers that show up from time to time. You know he's not normal. But you know that shooting him wouldn't work.
He’s out there again.
Always watching, waiting for something. When he notices you in the window, he waves you down, a basket at his hip. Once again, you offer him in, to which he politely declines, saying he has other stops to make, another excuse on a growing list. You’ve asked around. You’ve had people watch. Hell, you stayed up until the wee hours of the morning just to understand. But nothing. He hands you the basket, full of goods as always, and as your fingers brush, you notice the dirt caked under his nails.
He stays to chat with you until “didn’t you say you had other places to be?” He departs, and you watch him go, talking to the wind. Another fruitless conversation. It’s not as if you don’t enjoy his company. The gifts are pleasant, the conversation enjoyable, you just wish he would tell you something. You turn to head inside but catch a glimpse of your garden, wildflowers that weren’t there before thriving. The dirt is no longer flat, but that’s not unexpected, he always manages to use your garden whenever you look away.
Thus far you’ve let him, not disturbing the flowers, but today, you’re curious. Setting the basket down, you bend over and pluck a flower…
The flower pulses in your hand before you pluck it. It felt eerily similar to a heartbeat, but the the hopeful part of your mind tells you it's not. You convince yourself it's just your anxiety, but why are you anxious? After all this is your garden. As you finally pick it, the pulsing stops and blood red liquid comes out of both ends of the broken stem. It may have also let out a scream, but you had let go of the flower out of disgust when you saw that.
You had heard rumors of people disappearing in the night but those had never been proven. The town's guard said they looked into it and found nothing, but they sweat whenever it is brought up. You were told it was bears but one of your friends was told they were gone on a hunting trip. Something has scared the guard into silence and nobody has found any signs of bodies.
What was in the food he was giving you?
Your breathing shallows, and you stumble back. Your mind flashes through the past couple months, and the baskets he’s been giving you. The neighbor who used to live to your right disappeared in May, and he had brought over a delicious chicken pot pie the next day to comfort you. At least…he said it was chicken. Mind racing, you think back to all the meals with meat, most coming soon after a person is reported missing, here, or elsewhere.
As for the flowers, those are a bit harder on your mind. You know he’s been the one planting them, for you certainly haven’t, but you aren’t sure exactly what he’s been planting. With trembling fingers, you open the basket of food and reach about for a napkin. Once acquired, you pick up the dead flower(?) and examine it more closely. What once appeared to be velvet petals now resembles muscle, the seeds appearing to be teeth.
involuntarily, your mind brings you back to one night, many moons ago, when you first saw him in your garden.
WHY IS EVERYBODY DOING THIS?
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Hello! You may call me Gato (cat in Spanish)
I am a STAY
Everybody wanna hear the real version of life, then don't get so sensitivewhen I say something a little bit raw
PM me the word tomato, NOW, ALL HAIL O_MERLIN_O, AND THE GREAT O_MERLIN_O ARMY. NOW GIVE ME A 4d8 attempt: [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] = [roll][roll:-4]+[roll:-3]+[roll:-2]+[roll:-1][/roll]
Imagine that you have a neighbor. He doesn't live here. You don't actually know where he lives, but no one else seems to have seen him. But he brings you gifts. Food, mostly. Fish, lasagna, cookies. Those sort of things. He's kind. He declines to enter your home whenever you invite him in. It's strange. Everyone else is looking for shelter, protection from the Liars. But he isn't. You don't know where he lives. But you've noticed the non-native wildflowers and disturbed soil in the garden. You've seen the hole that appears at night. You've heard him talking to no one. To the worms, to the birds, to the food, even. He loves to talk. But he never *tells* you anything. Not where his strange accent is from, not why he cares about you, not if he's seen the other strangers that show up from time to time. You know he's not normal. But you know that shooting him wouldn't work.
He’s out there again.
Always watching, waiting for something. When he notices you in the window, he waves you down, a basket at his hip. Once again, you offer him in, to which he politely declines, saying he has other stops to make, another excuse on a growing list. You’ve asked around. You’ve had people watch. Hell, you stayed up until the wee hours of the morning just to understand. But nothing. He hands you the basket, full of goods as always, and as your fingers brush, you notice the dirt caked under his nails.
He stays to chat with you until “didn’t you say you had other places to be?” He departs, and you watch him go, talking to the wind. Another fruitless conversation. It’s not as if you don’t enjoy his company. The gifts are pleasant, the conversation enjoyable, you just wish he would tell you something. You turn to head inside but catch a glimpse of your garden, wildflowers that weren’t there before thriving. The dirt is no longer flat, but that’s not unexpected, he always manages to use your garden whenever you look away.
Thus far you’ve let him, not disturbing the flowers, but today, you’re curious. Setting the basket down, you bend over and pluck a flower…
The flower pulses in your hand before you pluck it. It felt eerily similar to a heartbeat, but the the hopeful part of your mind tells you it's not. You convince yourself it's just your anxiety, but why are you anxious? After all this is your garden. As you finally pick it, the pulsing stops and blood red liquid comes out of both ends of the broken stem. It may have also let out a scream, but you had let go of the flower out of disgust when you saw that.
You had heard rumors of people disappearing in the night but those had never been proven. The town's guard said they looked into it and found nothing, but they sweat whenever it is brought up. You were told it was bears but one of your friends was told they were gone on a hunting trip. Something has scared the guard into silence and nobody has found any signs of bodies.
What was in the food he was giving you?
Your breathing shallows, and you stumble back. Your mind flashes through the past couple months, and the baskets he’s been giving you. The neighbor who used to live to your right disappeared in May, and he had brought over a delicious chicken pot pie the next day to comfort you. At least…he said it was chicken. Mind racing, you think back to all the meals with meat, most coming soon after a person is reported missing, here, or elsewhere.
As for the flowers, those are a bit harder on your mind. You know he’s been the one planting them, for you certainly haven’t, but you aren’t sure exactly what he’s been planting. With trembling fingers, you open the basket of food and reach about for a napkin. Once acquired, you pick up the dead flower(?) and examine it more closely. What once appeared to be velvet petals now resembles muscle, the seeds appearing to be teeth.
involuntarily, your mind brings you back to one night, many moons ago, when you first saw him in your garden.
WHY IS EVERYBODY DOING THIS?
Cause its cool
duh
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I’m a decent DM and an above average rules lawyer
I have several complete Pokedexes | I may be stupid, but at least I’m not smart!
My favorite characters from dead threads; AMA: Aria, Rade, Kiano & Luz, Juniper, Ezra & Dr. Paine, Xi & his siblings, MisaStay Paranoid!!!
Okay, I'm just going to throw something out here. (uhhh potential TW: Boobs? But not, like, uncovered, everyone's got a shirt on and this is a fairly serious essay-thing and im trying to handle it with tact) Recently, I saw a video on Pinterest dedicated to fixing Danganronpa designs. (i lost the original video) Now, even as a fan of Danganronpa, I can agree that some of the designs aren't the greatest, and I think character redesigns are cool, so that's not the part I'm here to talk about. What I am here to talk about is how they "fixed" her design. They were just doing sprite edits, so I wasn't expecting much, but they just buttoned her shirt and made her chest smaller, claiming it was unrealistic purely for the point of being sexualised. I'm not going to say that her original design was just really boring and kinda fan-servicey, but there are a few points I'd like to make here: 1. Big boobs do not equal sexualization. Obviously, they can and are used for that purpose a lot, but I came prepared with some examples (spoilered cause images are big) (also finding examples was hard cause i can't directly search "Characters with big boobs" without seeming weird so appreciate what you get)
Example 1: Athena Cykes from ace attourney
Another small point, sexualised does not equal pretty. Athena's pretty, and she's got a big chest, but she serves an important purpose and isn't just there for *BOOBAGE*
Example 2: Asahina Mafuyuu from Project sekai She is a teenage girl with a fairly large chest (like for someone who's still growing) and yet her purpose in the narrative has nothing to do with that Example 3: Yang Xiao Long from RWBY Sure, she's hot and she's even got a little cleavage out, but with her characterization, it's not fan service. She's just confident and dresses how she wants, boob window and all. Once again, it's not made out to be anything significant about her as a character, which is what differentiates blatant sexualization with a character who's just attractive.
Example 4: A better redesign of akane chest size unchanged, but they put a lot more personality into her design so it's not what your eyes go to first. (i did not draw this art all creds to the artist hellshake_yuli / @_shslprince on twitter)
2: Big boobs aren't unrealistic. Most sizes of boob can occur in the real life. EXAMPLES
Example 1: An online bra store Whoa look at all these women who are real! There would be no need to have such a store if big boobs were unrealistic! Example 2: Beyonce She exists. Need I say more?
Example 3: The doodles family. No picture included but i swear to god that there is not a single woman in my family with a cup size smaller than a D. It's frankly kind of alarming. Nonetheless, this is a primary source.
So yeah. There's my mini-essay. This took me too long, and i put too much effort into it, but it (probably) needed to be said. I hope this doesn't get taken down for how many times i said "boobs"
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) just trying to spread a little positivity wherever I can<3 Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult) I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, artsy dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown. But, I'm also god's favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world. Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose
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Boy, I sure do love my organs! I hope nobody takes them from me!
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Forever burdenless and terminally live!
Reminds me of a joke I sometimes tell
Hello! You may call me Gato (cat in Spanish)
I am a STAY
Everybody wanna hear the real version of life, then don't get so sensitive when I say something a little bit raw
PM me the word tomato, NOW, ALL HAIL O_MERLIN_O, AND THE GREAT O_MERLIN_O ARMY. NOW GIVE ME A 4d8 attempt: [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] = [roll][roll:-4]+[roll:-3]+[roll:-2]+[roll:-1][/roll]
*psst* how much for the throat
I’m a decent DM and an above average rules lawyer
I have several complete Pokedexes | I may be stupid, but at least I’m not smart!
My favorite characters from dead threads; AMA: Aria, Rade, Kiano & Luz, Juniper, Ezra & Dr. Paine, Xi & his siblings, Misa Stay Paranoid!!!
My Drummer given title is… Swift as the Dragon
May the dice roll ever in your favor
Stealy steal lungs
Artise
Totally not part Asian
Has cars (cats)
I’ll give you 20 bucks for your larynx
Somewhere between a genius and a moron.
It was me Barry! I Jumped Jack Flash!
If I pretend my problems don’t exist and walk fast enough, they’ll eventually disappear
Your honor, shut up, you wasn't even there
It’s only a war crime if you lose
May I inquire as to why?
Hey y’all, you can call me Sel or Julian or whatever, I don’t really care. Pronouns are they/he. Some things about be, I like reading, writing, dnd, theater, art. I have an art doc and my yt channel linked below. Pms are always open if you need to talk. Love y’all <3
Is art
@Irunwithskissors
Might as well post this here, too:
Imagine that you have a neighbor. He doesn't live here. You don't actually know where he lives, but no one else seems to have seen him. But he brings you gifts. Food, mostly. Fish, lasagna, cookies. Those sort of things. He's kind. He declines to enter your home whenever you invite him in. It's strange. Everyone else is looking for shelter, protection from the Liars. But he isn't.
You don't know where he lives. But you've noticed the non-native wildflowers and disturbed soil in the garden. You've seen the hole that appears at night.
You've heard him talking to no one. To the worms, to the birds, to the food, even. He loves to talk. But he never *tells* you anything. Not where his strange accent is from, not why he cares about you, not if he's seen the other strangers that show up from time to time.
You know he's not normal. But you know that shooting him wouldn't work.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Forever burdenless and terminally live!
Normal tuesday
I’m a decent DM and an above average rules lawyer
I have several complete Pokedexes | I may be stupid, but at least I’m not smart!
My favorite characters from dead threads; AMA: Aria, Rade, Kiano & Luz, Juniper, Ezra & Dr. Paine, Xi & his siblings, Misa Stay Paranoid!!!
My Drummer given title is… Swift as the Dragon
May the dice roll ever in your favor
He’s out there again.
Always watching, waiting for something. When he notices you in the window, he waves you down, a basket at his hip. Once again, you offer him in, to which he politely declines, saying he has other stops to make, another excuse on a growing list. You’ve asked around. You’ve had people watch. Hell, you stayed up until the wee hours of the morning just to understand. But nothing. He hands you the basket, full of goods as always, and as your fingers brush, you notice the dirt caked under his nails.
He stays to chat with you until “didn’t you say you had other places to be?” He departs, and you watch him go, talking to the wind. Another fruitless conversation.
It’s not as if you don’t enjoy his company. The gifts are pleasant, the conversation enjoyable, you just wish he would tell you something. You turn to head inside but catch a glimpse of your garden, wildflowers that weren’t there before thriving. The dirt is no longer flat, but that’s not unexpected, he always manages to use your garden whenever you look away.
Thus far you’ve let him, not disturbing the flowers, but today, you’re curious. Setting the basket down, you bend over and pluck a flower…
Hey y’all, you can call me Sel or Julian or whatever, I don’t really care. Pronouns are they/he. Some things about be, I like reading, writing, dnd, theater, art. I have an art doc and my yt channel linked below. Pms are always open if you need to talk. Love y’all <3
Is art
@Irunwithskissors
Why does seem like a Life of Luxury episode
Artise
Totally not part Asian
Has cars (cats)
The flower pulses in your hand before you pluck it. It felt eerily similar to a heartbeat, but the the hopeful part of your mind tells you it's not. You convince yourself it's just your anxiety, but why are you anxious? After all this is your garden. As you finally pick it, the pulsing stops and blood red liquid comes out of both ends of the broken stem. It may have also let out a scream, but you had let go of the flower out of disgust when you saw that.
You had heard rumors of people disappearing in the night but those had never been proven. The town's guard said they looked into it and found nothing, but they sweat whenever it is brought up. You were told it was bears but one of your friends was told they were gone on a hunting trip. Something has scared the guard into silence and nobody has found any signs of bodies.
What was in the food he was giving you?
they/her Always open to chat. Just send me a PM
Hello moon!
Hello! You may call me Gato (cat in Spanish)
I am a STAY
Everybody wanna hear the real version of life, then don't get so sensitive when I say something a little bit raw
PM me the word tomato, NOW, ALL HAIL O_MERLIN_O, AND THE GREAT O_MERLIN_O ARMY. NOW GIVE ME A 4d8 attempt: [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] = [roll][roll:-4]+[roll:-3]+[roll:-2]+[roll:-1][/roll]
hi there
they/her Always open to chat. Just send me a PM
How are you?
Hello! You may call me Gato (cat in Spanish)
I am a STAY
Everybody wanna hear the real version of life, then don't get so sensitive when I say something a little bit raw
PM me the word tomato, NOW, ALL HAIL O_MERLIN_O, AND THE GREAT O_MERLIN_O ARMY. NOW GIVE ME A 4d8 attempt: [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] = [roll][roll:-4]+[roll:-3]+[roll:-2]+[roll:-1][/roll]
dead tired, you?
they/her Always open to chat. Just send me a PM
Hongry, literally forgot to eat lunch
Hello! You may call me Gato (cat in Spanish)
I am a STAY
Everybody wanna hear the real version of life, then don't get so sensitive when I say something a little bit raw
PM me the word tomato, NOW, ALL HAIL O_MERLIN_O, AND THE GREAT O_MERLIN_O ARMY. NOW GIVE ME A 4d8 attempt: [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] = [roll][roll:-4]+[roll:-3]+[roll:-2]+[roll:-1][/roll]
Your breathing shallows, and you stumble back. Your mind flashes through the past couple months, and the baskets he’s been giving you. The neighbor who used to live to your right disappeared in May, and he had brought over a delicious chicken pot pie the next day to comfort you. At least…he said it was chicken. Mind racing, you think back to all the meals with meat, most coming soon after a person is reported missing, here, or elsewhere.
As for the flowers, those are a bit harder on your mind. You know he’s been the one planting them, for you certainly haven’t, but you aren’t sure exactly what he’s been planting. With trembling fingers, you open the basket of food and reach about for a napkin. Once acquired, you pick up the dead flower(?) and examine it more closely. What once appeared to be velvet petals now resembles muscle, the seeds appearing to be teeth.
involuntarily, your mind brings you back to one night, many moons ago, when you first saw him in your garden.
Hey y’all, you can call me Sel or Julian or whatever, I don’t really care. Pronouns are they/he. Some things about be, I like reading, writing, dnd, theater, art. I have an art doc and my yt channel linked below. Pms are always open if you need to talk. Love y’all <3
Is art
@Irunwithskissors
WHY IS EVERYBODY DOING THIS?
Hello! You may call me Gato (cat in Spanish)
I am a STAY
Everybody wanna hear the real version of life, then don't get so sensitive when I say something a little bit raw
PM me the word tomato, NOW, ALL HAIL O_MERLIN_O, AND THE GREAT O_MERLIN_O ARMY. NOW GIVE ME A 4d8 attempt: [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] + [roll]1d8[/roll] = [roll][roll:-4]+[roll:-3]+[roll:-2]+[roll:-1][/roll]
Cause its cool
duh
I’m a decent DM and an above average rules lawyer
I have several complete Pokedexes | I may be stupid, but at least I’m not smart!
My favorite characters from dead threads; AMA: Aria, Rade, Kiano & Luz, Juniper, Ezra & Dr. Paine, Xi & his siblings, Misa Stay Paranoid!!!
My Drummer given title is… Swift as the Dragon
May the dice roll ever in your favor
Okay, I'm just going to throw something out here. (uhhh potential TW: Boobs? But not, like, uncovered, everyone's got a shirt on and this is a fairly serious essay-thing and im trying to handle it with tact)
Recently, I saw a video on Pinterest dedicated to fixing Danganronpa designs. (i lost the original video) Now, even as a fan of Danganronpa, I can agree that some of the designs aren't the greatest, and I think character redesigns are cool, so that's not the part I'm here to talk about. What I am here to talk about is how they "fixed" her design. They were just doing sprite edits, so I wasn't expecting much, but they just buttoned her shirt and made her chest smaller, claiming it was unrealistic purely for the point of being sexualised. I'm not going to say that her original design was just really boring and kinda fan-servicey, but there are a few points I'd like to make here:
1. Big boobs do not equal sexualization. Obviously, they can and are used for that purpose a lot, but I came prepared with some examples (spoilered cause images are big)
(also finding examples was hard cause i can't directly search "Characters with big boobs" without seeming weird so appreciate what you get)
Example 1: Athena Cykes from ace attourney
Another small point, sexualised does not equal pretty. Athena's pretty, and she's got a big chest, but she serves an important purpose and isn't just there for *BOOBAGE*
Example 2: Asahina Mafuyuu from Project sekai
She is a teenage girl with a fairly large chest (like for someone who's still growing) and yet her purpose in the narrative has nothing to do with that
Example 3: Yang Xiao Long from RWBY
Sure, she's hot and she's even got a little cleavage out, but with her characterization, it's not fan service. She's just confident and dresses how she wants, boob window and all. Once again, it's not made out to be anything significant about her as a character, which is what differentiates blatant sexualization with a character who's just attractive.
Example 4: A better redesign of akane
chest size unchanged, but they put a lot more personality into her design so it's not what your eyes go to first. (i did not draw this art all creds to the artist hellshake_yuli / @_shslprince on twitter)
2: Big boobs aren't unrealistic. Most sizes of boob can occur in the real life.
EXAMPLES
Example 1: An online bra store
Whoa look at all these women who are real! There would be no need to have such a store if big boobs were unrealistic!
Example 2: Beyonce
She exists. Need I say more?
Example 3: The doodles family.
No picture included but i swear to god that there is not a single woman in my family with a cup size smaller than a D. It's frankly kind of alarming. Nonetheless, this is a primary source.
So yeah. There's my mini-essay. This took me too long, and i put too much effort into it, but it (probably) needed to be said. I hope this doesn't get taken down for how many times i said "boobs"
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) just trying to spread a little positivity wherever I can<3
Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult)
I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, artsy dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown. But, I'm also god's favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world.
Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose