Regret Of Chunshan

[fairuzfan]

Here's a website where Palestine GoFundMes are vetted and shared that you can send out to people. The url is gazafunds.com

Easy to use and simple. Just share the site whenever someone asks for GFMs for Palestine.

[red-the-raspberry]

My knives? Out. My onion? Glass. My dead man? Awake.

[insultingly-purple]

Thursday, August 14th 1625

John has been a boatsmen since he was eight years old. He wasn't particularly great at it, but he also wasn't all that bad. As a matter of fact, he quite enjoyed his life at sea, and was accordingly proud of the fact he'd only managed to contract scurvy once twice four times (?) throughout his career. Unfortunately, his friend Marcus hadn't found the thought nearly as amusing as John did. Mostly because Marcus hadn't survived the affliction long enough to think so. Pity, that. They could have had a good laugh.

John tried not to dwell on it. Best to keep one's nose up than lose your wits from thinking too hard, he'd think, while eating a meal that was infested with weevils more times than not. Fortunately for John, eating in the dark made it harder to tell the difference.

Wow. God had really tried, hadn't he?

After somehow miraculously surviving the Medieval's equivalent to the ten plagues, you really couldn't blame John for assuming he'd had the constitution of an Ox. That was, until he'd arrived on the Coast of Murphies, where John learned that he had contracted a terrible condition with no cure...

_

Your move, @toi1338bexo >:)

[toi1338bexo]

For days John scoured the island looking for a doctor that could help him. He had been so lucky in the past surviving disease after disease, injury after injury. It seemed his luck ran out. Every doctor either said it was incurable or thought he was lying at laughed at him, directing him out of their door. John believed that it was cruel for a man in his situation to be ignored, laughed at, pushed away. From professionals for gods sake! All his life he had been an average man; someone you wouldn’t think twice about if you passed him on the street. He liked the anonymity, he blended in with everyone else.

His job as on a boat allowed him to do that. Sure, you got to know the rest of the crew pretty quickly and yeah, sleeping in cabins with up to eight other people in them wasn’t Johns ideal arrangement but he made it work. On those late nights on the boats when he was lying in a hammock, he would feel himself swaying gently (or not so gently weather dependant) and would imagine himself floating out on the ocean, completely alone, Isolated from the rest of the world. Working on a boat allowed him to escape real life. Unfortunately, he couldn’t escape the large number of diseases that followed but that was to be expected. But hey, are you even a real sailor if you haven’t had scurvy at least twice? John proudly told people about the numbers of times he had scurvy during his adventures at sea. Keeping it rather vague considering he couldn’t actually count. But when he was not attempting to recount the amount of times he has thrown up, he usually spent his nights alone, his mind was his little tiny bit of solitude.

Yet overnight, upon arriving on the coast that all changed. No longer could he escape, no longer was he able to isolate himself. After stepping off that boat, he found that people, particularly women, flocked to him. He was surrounded constantly. When he was finally able to get a moment alone, he ran straight to a doctor. Who then also stared at him with the same misty longing eyes that the crowds did, before diagnosing him with venustamorbus, the disease of being too attractive...

[insultingly-purple]

The big bastard in the cloud was probably up there laughing himself to death. John certainly hoped so. Unbelievable. The universe was a grand joke, and John was the punchline.

In a rare moment of weakness, John wondered if this was simply God's way of making it up to him. Right, for all the bad weather, the weevils, and... scurvy. Clearly he had found that last one quite funny, given the initial and subsequent performances had done well enough to warrant an encore.

Right then. From now on, if anyone asked, John was an atheist. What kind of absolute bastard laughed at someone with scurvy? Some vertically challenged woman who owned pink Docs, probably.

Lovely. Now every time John wanted to leave the house he didn't have, he'd have to find a dreadful cloak to wear, like an obnoxious knob cosplaying Little Red Riding Hood's ill-adjusted cousin. All that was left was to locate the nearest overenthusiased fuzzball with teeth and he could complete the look.

Which was exactly what John was contemplating as he peered over the shoulder of the bar patron to his left, careful to keep his hood low. Once he actually managed to capture a glance at the contents of the man's papers, John was shocked to find his own disturbingly gorgeous mug staring right back at him, over a headline that read...

[toi1338bexo]

why is walking around your local town in your big city outfit so embarrassing

[insultingly-purple]

Thursday, August 14th 1625

John has been a boatsmen since he was eight years old. He wasn't particularly great at it, but he also wasn't all that bad. As a matter of fact, he quite enjoyed his life at sea, and was accordingly proud of the fact he'd only managed to contract scurvy once twice four times (?) throughout his career. Unfortunately, his friend Marcus hadn't found the thought nearly as amusing as John did. Mostly because Marcus hadn't survived the affliction long enough to think so. Pity, that. They could have had a good laugh.

John tried not to dwell on it. Best to keep one's nose up than lose your wits from thinking too hard, he'd think, while eating a meal that was infested with weevils more times than not. Fortunately for John, eating in the dark made it harder to tell the difference.

Wow. God had really tried, hadn't he?

After somehow miraculously surviving the Medieval's equivalent to the ten plagues, you really couldn't blame John for assuming he'd had the constitution of an Ox. That was, until he'd arrived on the Coast of Murphies, where John learned that he had contracted a terrible condition with no cure...

_

Your move, @toi1338bexo >:)

[tumbler-polls]

Spin the wheel and let it randomly assign you a gender identity.

Are you happy with your new identity?

Flawless result, 11/10

Nice 😎

It's fine, I guess

Not ideal, but I can work work with that

Are you fucking kidding me 🫠

I've been hate crimed 💀

Voting ended onFeb 6, 2025

[flailmorpho]

I'm going to kill myself

[toi1338bexo]

[insultingly-purple]

[willemdaflutist]

ok but Pinterest is totally the wedding planner right?

[exhuastedpigeon]

Every unhinged fic writer needs an equally unhinged friend who "yes ands" their ideas and encourages them to write all their most far fetched and insane stories.

[insultingly-purple]

@toi1338bexo

Shed Eeran

[calamityarti]

I'm not sorry

[dakakapo]

Twitter didn’t take the divorce well…

[dakakapo]

Congratulations on the marriage guys!!!! It's about time honestly

[insultingly-purple]

I heard that April Showers Bring May Flowers was being adapted into an anime so I decided to catch up on the manga and so far I have been VERY pleasantly surprised

Misunderstandings resolved in 2 chapters or less, an MC from the people, and character development with something to contribute to the genre.

I've found that to maximize The Shojo Experience you can turn off your brain a little bit. In this case ML follows the oblivious archetype but I did not predict we'd get something like this only four chapters into the beginning of the relationship, and, wow:

And then in the next panel he just drops the fucking ball:

It's been a week.

Bonus from later on in the chapter:

[thememedaddy]

[cyberneticnightmares]

saw an elderly woman walking around with a tote bag whose design were the four AO3 fic category squares and she very excitedly asked if i was a reader or a writer bcs nobody else at the con had recognized it, and after telling her that i've been writing fic since fanfic.net, she solemnly nodded and explained that she'd been reading fic since "the days of personal websites" but that she only started writing fanfic when she was 47 and oh my god when i tell you that i genuinely teared up on the spot!!!!! like!!! HELL YEAH???? LITERALLY NEVER TOO OLD TO START WRITING. NEVER TOO OLD TO WRITE AND SHARE YOUR FIC.

her enthusiastic "i'm a very nice and bubbly person, i swear! but i love writing angst and major character death :)" nearly took me the fuck out.

icon. legend. diva. i wish her nothing but a kajillion million comments and kudos. i hope her fic updates crash AO3. i hope she knows i'm promoting her to my personal patron saint of AO3.

[jaradraws]

I need to know! How did you make that Bill Cipher head! It's so cool!

heheh thank you so much!! im v proud of it and it's p easy to pull off: the secret is rly strong magnets and hot glue 😋

here's a showcase of the expressions in action + a peek at the magnets inside:

unfortunately i don't really have much in the way of useful process pics: i tend to throw myself at projects and forget to take photos of my progress oops

the whole thing isn't Super sturdy tho bc it's basically just bristol paper held together by hot glue and a dream. i made it last oct for halloween and it held up fine, but by the end of the day at dashcon 2, it was starting to fall apart lol

[papillonnne]

ANNIE HSIAO-CHING WANG

ARTIST

[ifebrownsugar]

[ifebrownsugar]

[chaossmith2]

"... You're what??"