Steven Diamond Universe
Oof
this one took me an eternity to finish but boy if it wasn’t worth it??
It looks like the grape kid from BNHA...
Misplaced Lens Cap
AnasAbdin

titsay
NASA
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

oozey mess
Jules of Nature

roma★
trying on a metaphor

Janaina Medeiros

blake kathryn

Kaledo Art
Stranger Things
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Cosimo Galluzzi

No title available
Xuebing Du
tumblr dot com

PR's Tumblrdome
seen from Netherlands

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@mathface
Steven Diamond Universe
Oof
this one took me an eternity to finish but boy if it wasn’t worth it??
It looks like the grape kid from BNHA...
@varioushues
@thewittyphantom
More from my old blog, my magnum opus, Connie says the F word
“Steven, we can’t both exist. I’m going to become half of you. And I need you to know that every moment you love being yourself, that’s me, loving you and loving being you. Because you’re going to be something extraordinary.”
And if you look to your left, you will see Seto Kaiba spending billions of dollars building an elevator to space in order to duel a dead man in the Egyptian afterlife rather than taking Pegasus’ advice to take a freaking walk in the woods.
@thewittyphantom
You don't think that 'Houzuki' refers to 'ダイオウホウズキイカ' (one name for Colossal Squid)? Hence, 'Houzuki Hime', or, 'Colossal Pygmy', or... Biggie Smalls. (Pearl and Marina's Octo Expansion outfits are inspired by Biggie and Tupac).
I do think that one’s more likely yea. Also the fact that Daiou can mean Great King and she has a crown. Which is another reason I went with Pigmy for her surname in English; she already has greatness/big/nobility in “pearl”. So to get the contrast for the big/small thing in her name I had the surname take the “small” role. But yea again, not trying to impose my improv name choice on anyone, I just needed to throw a full name in there because the original had a full name, and it sounded fitting enough. ¯\( ツ )/¯
*nod*
I was just bringing it up because you mentioned the rockfish thing, so I wasn’t sure if you were aware of the Colossal Squid part.
He’s got my vote
@akariisabirb
“I just feel so dead inside…”
“Dead inside, you say? I know something that might just work”
reanimate my will to live
Wake me up inside
nem sirok csak 65ezren belementek a szemembe
A crowd of 65,000 sings ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ perfectly while waiting for a Green Day concert
THIS. IS. PERFECTION.
@catwinchester
Amazing!
1. how the fuck did Green Day follow that
2. you know, we have fun here, with the word “meme,” but according to meme theory, which is an actual thing pioneered by reptilian human impersonator Richard Dawkins in his 1976 book The Selfish Gene, most of what we call memes are very unsuccessful memes. A meme, in the scientific sense - if one is generously disposed to consider memetics a science on any particular day - is an idea that acts like a gene. That is, it seeks to replicate itself, as many times as possible, and as faithfully as possible.
That second part is important. A gene which is not faithful in its replication mutates, sometimes rapidly, sometimes wildly. The result might be cancer or a virus or (very very very rarely) a viable evolutionary step forward, but whatever the case, it is no longer the original gene. That gene no longer exists. It could not successfully reproduce itself.
The memes we pass around on the internet are, in general, very short lived and rapidly mutating. It’s rare for any meme to survive for more than a year: in almost all cases, they appear, spread rapidly, spawn a thousand short-lived variations, and then are swiftly forgotten. They’re not funny anymore, or interesting anymore. They no longer serve any function, and so they’re left behind, a mental evolutionary dead end.
This rendition of Freddie Mercury’s immortal opera Bohemian Rhapsody is about the most goddamned amazing demonstration of a successful meme I’ve ever seen. This song is 42 years old, as of 2017. FORTY TWO YEARS OLD. And it has spread SO far, and replicated itself across the minds of millions of people SO faithfully, that a gathering of 65,000 more or less random people, with nothing in common except that they all really like it when Billie Joe Armstrong does the thing with the guitar, can reproduce it perfectly. IN PERFECT TIME. THEY KNOW THE EXACT LENGTH OF EVERY BRIDGE. THEY EVEN GET THE NONSENSE WORDS RIGHT. THEY DIVIDE THEMSELVES UP IN ORDER TO SING THE COUNTER-CHORUS.
“Yeah, Pyrrhic, lots of people know this song.”
Listen, you glassy-eyed ninny: our species’ ability to coherently pass along not just genetic information, but memetic information as well, is the reason we’re the dominant species on this planet. Language is a meme. Civilization is a collection of memes. Lots of animals can learn, but we may be the only animal that latches onto ephemera - information that doesn’t reflect any concrete reality, information with little to no immediate practical application - and then joyfully, willfully, unrelentingly repeats it and teaches it to others. Look at how wild this crowd is, because they’re singing the same song! It doesn’t DO anything. It’s not even why they showed up here today! If you sent out a letter to those same 65,000 people that said, “Please show up in this field on this day in order to sing Bohemian Rhapsody,” very few of them would have showed up. But I would be surprised to meet a single person in that crowd who joined in the singing who doesn’t remember this moment as the most amazing part of a concert they paid hundreds of dollars to see.
And they’re just sharing an idea. It’s stunning and ridiculous. Something about how our brains work make us go, “Hey!! Hey everybody!! I found this idea! It’s good! I like it! I’m going to repeat it! Do you know it too?? Repeat it with me! Let’s get EVERYBODY to know it and repeat it and then we can all have it together at the same time! It’s a good idea! I’m so excited to repeat it exactly the way I heard it, as loudly as I can, as often as possible!!”
This is how culture happens! This is how countries happen! Sometimes a persistent, infectious idea - a meme - can be dangerous or dark. But our human delight at clutching up good memes like magpies and flapping back to our flock to yell about them to everyone we know is why we as a species bothered to start doing things like “telling stories” and “writing stuff down.”
“That’s a lot of spilled ink for a Queen song, Pyrrhic.”
Man I just fucking love people.
Hello!! I am extending my twitter giveaway to be on tumblr as well. You get two entries if you enter both! The graphic says reblogs but likes + reblogs will also count.
Ends November 10th
[ Link to Twitter Giveaway ] [ Store ]
Love this artist!!! Please follow them!!
Entering this b/c I HAVE A MIGHTY NEED @u@
My friends, my friendships, they ebb and flow like the tides.
Seems right now’s low tide. Just means it’s time to enjoy the beach...
Let’s just call this what it is. An intermission.
Sometimes the help you need isn’t the help you want. Call 1-800-273-8255 if you’re thinking of suicide.
This comic meant a whole lot to me. It was sincere in its depiction and treated the issue through the eyes of a grounded person. Not some godly hero saying everything is better than it seems, but a person trying his best before bringing her somewhere who can actually help.
And this is why I love Deadpool. <3
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PUZZLE
I am a piece, of some greater whole. I am a fragment, of some larger scroll. I am a shard, of some glistening stone. I am a brick, from some crumbling wall.
But while I am a piece of some greater thing, I am myself incomplete. Because while I’ve gained people thought lost, I’ve lost people that, in between, I’d gained.
I was greedy, I was hungry, I wanted it all for myself. I was needy, I was longing, I thought I could have them both. The new and the old, those here and those there. But, instead, one enters, one leaves.
It’s always been that way.
Why did I think now would be any different.
there’s dozens of stories about some kid from our world falling into a different, magical one, being the chosen one or the close companion of the chosen one and saving the world, and then going home where they’re delighted to see their family again and have a new appreciation of their own life. but what about someone who didn’t miss it? what if you save the world and you’re given your medal and stripped of the magic you learned and put back in a world you never missed? and you’re furious.
maybe you gave up a few years of your life. you have callouses and muscles and a few scars and maybe a missing eye or something. you definitely have some blood on your hands. you might have PTSD you can’t talk to anyone about. and suddenly you’re fifteen again, in a body that’s too soft and too short and too complete. you’re always cold because there’s no magic burning in your veins anymore, and even as you grow up the feeling of not fitting doesn’t go away because when you look in the mirror at eighteen you look all wrong: this is not what you’re supposed to look like at eighteen. the sky clouds and you rub at the phantom ache of injuries this body never received. you wake up screaming sometimes remembering the sorcerer who burnt your hand to ashes, or the final battle you almost didn’t make it through, or the moment you felt the magic in you go out.
but here’s the thing: they took you and made you into a weapon that was determined enough and powerful enough to save a whole world. they can put you back where they found you but they can’t undo everything. and there’s this, too: the place between worlds clings to you. you can’t tease fire out of the air but you can feel the pull of the doorways all the time, although none of them so far go to your world.
but you try to make it work for a decade, anyway. you’re dutiful. but one night you leave work late and for the thousandth time you catch yourself searching the sky for firebirds. and you break. of the three portals within five hundred miles, one is a howling, frozen wasteland and one is a deep violet void, but one opens into a misty forest that you step into and don’t look back. it’s not your world, but if you keep going long enough, you’ll get there.
(and maybe much, much later, hundreds of worlds later, you climb through a window, or a door of woven branches int he middle a field, or push aside a curtain, and as you set foot on new land you feel the fire in your veins and sparks at your fingertips and finally, finally, you’re home)
this is going around again and I want to add that if you want to think about sad, angry ex-heroes trying and failing to live normal lives, nothing left to say by imagine dragons is a good song to do that to.
I really want to write a novel about thus.
Imagine the families of the people that came back. Imagine seeing your child, kissing them goodnight one night and shutting their bedroom door, or seeing them off to school. When you see them again they’re angry (but they won’t say at what), and a noise that sounds like an arrow whistling through the air makes them turn. For a moment you see their eyes darken.
They left for school with hunched shoulders, slouching over their work; but they come back and hold themselves tall, and even though they’re a teenager you can’t help but think that no fifteen year old should have that kind of posture, that kind of fire that flashes out sometimes. No fifteen year old or sixteen year old should have muscle memory that falters, suddenly, when it realizes it can’t keep up with this body
One lost an eye, in their world (not this empty shell of a world that they returned to) and even though they know perfectly well that their left eye here sees just as well as the right one, they find themself spinning to look at people when they talk to them. Sudden noises make them whirl. Reigning in their intense feeling of self preservation that’s been honed to make them a hero is too hard to do here, where the skidding of tires is frequent. Heroes with missing arms have to explain to their siblings and friends why they are left handed now.
“Every Heart A Doorway” by Seanan McGuire is pretty much what you’re looking for OP
There’s also “This Is Not a Wardrobe Door” by A. Merc Rustad: text here and full-cast audio here.
Yeah this is pretty much the premise of Seanan McGuire’s Wayward Children series
Birthright by Joshua Williamson
The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland by Catherynne M Valente, and the couple other books in that series
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