they/it, way closer to 30 than 20 that's for sure, PST (UTC-8:00)
ENG/ASL/tiny bit of ITA
I post a lot about my various artistic endeavors, books I'm reading, and images that delight me. I'm a multimedia artist who does basically every medium except fiber arts, but that won't stop me from trying from time to time. I particularly like dolls and model making.
I don't care to label my politics but the stuff that'll come up on here are worker's rights/unions, disability and gender liberation, and specifically disability justice in relation to education. I am intersectional in my politics, and I don't engage with call outs/online drama/that kinda chicanery. I have nuanced takes on large language models that boil down to generally negative, so don't expect anything artificially generated here.
My commissions are open [link] nearly always, inquire within.
My website/neocities is moveimbadger.com and I really aught to use it more.
Sideblogs worth mentioning: @prickly-pears @cuttothespace, and my community @today-i-cooked
accidentally looked at puppy pictures and got puppy fever. I can't have a dog rn and I don't actually want a dog rn I just want to be friends with someone who has a puppy that I can be uncle (gender neutral) to
my shrimp tanks are all self sustaining but sometimes the population hits a lull with just a few adults total and so I toss a few more eggs in. for fun and flavor and more potential genetic variety although idk how much that works or matters. all my shrimps are descendants of the same egg packet, but some are several generations down and also idk how homogenous the egg packet was genetically in the first place or how much any of this even matters in a parthogenetic species
have I ever shown you all my parents dog? she's an affront to god itself for sure
10 year old Chihuahua Pug mix that is 100% for sure inbred. adopted in a parking lot as a sickly but normal looking bean shaped puppy that grew into the stupidest little anxietybox
Some of the residents of Urithiru get together to smoke some weed
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Stormlight Archive crackfic, probably set around book 4 i dont remember, rated T for toking, 2,433 words so far
Written almost entirely while also gorked out of my gourd, expect only a tangential adherence to canon. Extremely silly. Doesn't even get to the good part yet, let me know if it should!
Did you even need Green Writs in Urithiru? Should we even bother asking Dalinar Kholin such a stupid question? Where did Shallan even find the plants, given that Shinovar doesn't even presently have access via oathgate? Kaladin pondered these as he stood guard outside the room, in a far corner of Urithiru, waiting for his-- he gritted his teeth-- friends. It still felt a little strange to think of them as that, given the life-changing experiences the group of them had shared. Comrades felt a little too formal, however, as you generally wouldn't be planning a relaxing session of smoking weed with your coworkers in arms.
To Kaladin's knowledge, the plant-- a weed grown exclusively indoors to the North-- was about as illegal as firemoss. That is, you probably won't be jailed for using it, but the amount of respect you garnered would drop drastically. It was a lazy sort of thing, used mostly by teenagers or for alcoholics whose bottles ran dry. His father, after boiling it in an oil, had used it medicinally with patients, sparingly, for over excitable nerves or cancers. Or for people afraid of becoming addicted to firemoss. It wasn't a particularly enticing drug to Kaladin. It made people stupid. And smoking it produced a far worse effect than the burning of moss, like the scent of a mink's musk, or certain varieties of crushed cremlings. A dank stench that stuck to everything around you.
"I still think you should at least try it," Sylphrena said, alighting on his shoulder after scouting down the hallway and back. "It might help you take that stick out of your behind." She crossed her arms, willing her clothing to turn to something akin to pyjamas, a nightgown and long loose pants with an Azish-style floral design upon them. "I want to try it. Maybe Shallan can bring some into Shadesmar for me."
"You are not going to smoke weed, Syl. And I won't be either. Someone needs to keep watch so that this doesn't cause any bigger issues than it already probably has." With his words, a figure appeared in the end of the hallway, causing Kaladin to snap to attention. He relaxed when he saw it was Shallan, who checked the hallway then reached back to drag Adolin by the hand to the room.
"Are we all prepared?" Shallan said, a little giddy already. She hadn't started smoking, had she? Kaladin didn't smell anything, so he assumed it was just her usual level of annoying bubbly personality.
"The room is secured, the vents are filled with potpourri, and your serving woman left a tray of cheese and bread on the table. She also wished your 'date with Adolin' well," Kaladin reported. "Who all did you tell about this?"
Shallan moved about the room, taking things from her bag and setting them out. A package of candied fruits she had procured joined the cheese tray. A few magazines were set out on the table, Pattern warping the covers of them as he drank in the images. Lastly, she pulled an interesting fabrial from a box.
"Just you, Adolin, Lopen, Lunamor, and-"
"You told Bridge Four." It wasn't a question as much as a statement, the way it sighed from Kaladin's teeth. He couldn't think of a worse group of men to tell about this. Half of them were notorious chatterboxes, the other half were people who couldn't be trusted with psychoactive plants.
"Well, yeah," Shallan said, shrugging and pulling a large metal disc, the size of a serving plate, from her bag. "Where else would I have gotten weed?" She picked up the fabrial, a large stone wrapped in a wire cage, and unfolded a metal stand from it, as well as a needle-like appendage. She set the needle against the edge of the metal disc, which spun slightly at her touch. The fabrial glowed a soft silvery color and let out a singular, powerful note. Shallan clapped at that and turned to Adolin. "Be sure to thank your mother for letting me borrow this!"
"You told Navani Kholin? The storming Queen?" Kaladin's hands reached up to rub at his face. He really should have gotten a scribe to write them some writs now. Maybe Shallan could do it quickly if anyone came. If Kaladin insisted this was all purely medicinal, maybe they wouldn't be in as much trouble as he was certain they would be in now. Now that Navani knew they would be smoking weed.
"She doesn't know what it was for, just that Shallan wanted to see it. You worry too much, Bridgeboy," Adolin said, clapping Kaladin on the shoulder and moving to sit on the couch. "I think it's just going to be Rock and Lopen anyways. Uhm, and maybe a few others but probably just them!" He watched Shallan with rapt attention as she opened a waxed fabric bag, unleashing the pungent and distinct odor of the weed within. Reaching in with her freehand, she selected a few buds and placed them inside the bowl of a mortar and pestle. As she ground them, Syl appeared to the trio to let them know the aforementioned bridgemen were on their way. Kaladin unlocked the door, pulled the hulking horneater and lanky windrunner in, and lashed the door shut behind them for good measure.
"Provisions!" Rock chirped, hoisting up a paper box that was nearly soaked through with grease. "Is fried tubers, nothing fancy. Ha! We will not be caring about this soon!" He set it down beside the cheese board, wrinkling his nose at the selection. "Is good thing I brought them it seems."
"And we won't be bored, Rua said he wants to play hide and seek with us until we can't find him no more," Lopen said, then produced a small metal device from his pocket with great reverance. "Behold, gentlemen and lady. Ladies?" He cocked his head at Shallan, then shrugged and made a great show of scraping the metal thing against his thumbnail, making several sparks shower off it. "A Sparkflicker! Perfect for keeping warm in the cold and lighting righteous J's with the lads." From the sparks his spren, Rua, danced forth in the form of a ceremonial dancing larkin puppet, the kind that take four men to operate during parades. He danced up to the top of Lopen's head and bounced back and forth, idling.
The strangeness of the group struck Kaladin as the five of them, not counting the spren, settled on various chairs and the floor around the low table. A horneater with a wife and kids, an alethi prince, a veden woman, the Lopen, and, well, whatever Kaladin was. He didn't need to think about that right now. All he needed to do for the next few hours was watch over the quartet of idiots as they smoked themselves silly, and stop them from killing each other or being fools. The latter seemed likely impossible, but he would do what he could.
Shallan smoothed out a piece of thin paper, then tipped the contents of the mortar onto it. She wet the fingers of her freehand in her glass of water, then deftly rolled.... something from it with just the one hand. Her safehand was inside her sleeve still, instead of gloved like it was when she was Veil. The silken fabric probably wasn't very good for making whatever it was with the weed. Shouldn't they be putting it in a censer? Maybe it had to be prepared like this first before being burned like incense. Or a prayer. Kaladin honestly had never seen it actually used for smoking before, only smelled it as his father simmered small batches of its oil on a fire outside.
"That's just about the worst I've ever seen anyone do it, goncha," Lopen said as kindly as he probably could have mustered. "For your sake, I won't embarrass you by showing you how to do it with one hand. Although, uh, I don't really right know how to do it with two. I haven't since I got lefty back." He flexed the fingers on his newly-regrown hand. "What about you, enne?" He pointed at Adolin. "Will you protect your beloved's reputation?"
Adolin groaned softly, leaning over to whisper in Shallan's ear. "Veil, you said you'd teach me before we did this." Shallan's body relaxed as Adolin pulled Veil to the front. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.
"I thought it would be funnier if you didn't know how to. Fine, I'll show you boys how you're supposed to do it. Just uh, some privacy maybe?" She raised up her safehand, miming opening the buttons on its sleeve. The men rolled their eyes, but ultimately obliged. Kaladin looked away, towards the shelf by the door that Syl had perched on. She watched over his shoulder at Veil, then gasped and pointed.
"You didn't roll that, you just used a lightweaving to look like you did!" Sure enough, as Kaladin looked back at what she had made, he only caught a glimpse of it before Veil waved her hand, dismissing the lightweaving and revealing the lumpy little roll Shallan had made. At least Kaladin had realized now what she was attempting to do. She was making it look like one of the tea cigarettes he knew lighteyed women liked smoking. Veil bled away to what was clearly Shallan, who blushed and shirked back a bit.
Kaladin groaned, then shifted himself up onto the arm of the couch. "Move over, let me have that." She shifted closer to Adolin, allowing the bridgeman to drop beside her. He unrolled her handiwork and flattened the paper back out. He lifted up the corner of her sketchbook, tearing off a corner of a page and earning a shrieked gasp from the artist. He had been made to roll tea cigarettes for some of father's wealthier and higher ranking patients, to help with their nerves while they- or more often their husbands- went through procedures. It kept anticipationspren away, it was thought, and therefore superstitiously, other spren like rot or deathspren. He hadn't realized that weed could be smoked with this method. He folded the thicker paper into a short tunnel-like roll and placed it with the weed and paper before picking the whole set up, twisting it in his fingers before licking the length of it and completing the roll. Not bad, considering how long it had been since he did that last. When he looked up, a few awespren were fading from his four onlookers.
"Captain, I had no idea you were secretly cool," Lopen said, slackjawed. Rock thumped him on the back. It did look better than even Veil's lightweaving. He didn't have time to reply to either of them before a soft knock fell upon the door.
Kaladin glanced around the room with an eyebrow raised, meeting the shrugs of everyone else. Slowly, he stood up, creeping over to the door and motioning for Syl to look through the keyhole. Before he reached the door, however, Pattern began buzzing audibly.
"I know that knock! Mmmmm, yes, come inside Truthwatcher!" Behind the door, the someone quickly became identifiable as Renarin Kholin as he let out an "Eep!" at the title. Kaladin dismissed the lashing and let the prince in. Behind him stood Rlain. He looked different than when he initially joined Bridge Four, now armored and slightly taller.
"I apologize for being late, Glys doesn't like it when I wear the timepiece aunt, er, Navani made." Renarin twisted a bit of cord with assorted beads on it: wood, glass, fired crem, and metal. Each made a different sounding clack when rubbed together and bore different textures on the outside. He shuffled in, stepping aside for Rlain, shutting the door behind him and pressing his back against it. "Lunamor said I could come." This shifted the attention to Rock, who simply shrugged noncommittally.
Kaladin redid the lashing on the door and motioned for the newcomers to sit. This was starting to make the room cramped, but it wasn't like they had another place they could really do this right now. He opened his mouth to offer a word of caution to everyone, once again, but was cut short by Rua, dancing as little sparks around the weed cigarette on the table and chirping "Well get on with it!" Lopen shushed him, cracking his knuckles and displaying the sparkflicker once again.
"Lopen, you know we have candles, braziers, soulcasting-" Shallan, now herself once again, counted off on her fingers, looking around the room. "We have open flames to light the joint, is my point." She perked up, looking to Rlain for approval at her rhythmic rhyme, though he remained impassive.
"Open flames have no pizzazz!" He picked up the joint (had she called it?), and proffered it to Rock, who put it between his own lips. With a shower of a few sparks, and some light puffing from the horneater, the end of the joint came alight. The miasma of weed-scented air took on a different, but similar tinge.
"Oh this thing, this thing is nice," Rock sighed, handing the joint back to Lopen. He took it reverently, and breathed deeply of its smoke. He held the smoke in, passing the joint to Shallan, who didn't do anything with it, choosing to watch Lopen with a cocked eyebrow. The herdazian tan of his skin began to take on a slightly red, then nearly purple tone.
"Lopen, you still need air," Kaladin said, nudging him with his foot. Lopen grinned smugly, bringing a shorter huff of air in and sucking some stormlight in with it. His color returned to his skin and took on a faint glow with it. Eventually, he slowly let the smoke out, smoothly at first but tumbling into a coughing fit immediately.
"Well," he said, breathing deeply of fresh air. "I at least know my limit now."
"What did you think that would do?"
"Work better the deeper I breathed it. Like stormlight." He shrugged, then reached for a snack to avoid any further critique from his commander. Attention shifted to Shallan, who looked positively giddy. She held the joint primly, sucking lightly of its smoke. The silvery smoke wisped from her nose and lips quickly as she pulled the joint away and coughed into her safehand.
"That.... is kind of foul isn't it?" But her smile and giggle didn't agree. She took another quick puff before handing it to Adolin and standing. "Music, anyone? I'm sorry I have just the one..."
Guy Lu is kinda new to this whole augments thing and computer viruses in the year 20xx are exactly the way they were in 1990. Except this one's a bit more chatty.
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Cyberpunk/Scifi, body sharing, eventual human/robot hatemance thing, trans character(s), currently 946 words, sorta not!fic style. If this intrigues you let me know! maybe ill work more on it!
Guy Lu loved his job. It wasn't glamorous, it wasn't emotionally fulfilling. He wasn't a hero like a doctor or firefighter. He wasn't innovating in the top research labs. He spent 10 hours, every night, at a desk in the lobby of the third-worst hotel in Horizonview, passing out room keys and not asking questions. Not too busy, not high-end enough that he has actual work to do. Perfect for watching TV and playing games on his phone. And, if he really really felt like it, doing work for his college courses, but that was best left until the last minute anyways. Clock in, dick around, clock out, go home, sleep, repeat. It was boring, and depressing, especially with no social life to break it up, but it paid the bills. It even paid a little extra, which added up to enough for Guy to get himself his first real augments.
Sure, most people around him had the standard fare everyone gets around 16, a small reader in your palm for activating anything instead of fiddling with ID and credit cards, and the little jack at the juncture of their thigh and groin that makes it easier for doctors to run tests and administer medications. But it was always more interesting when someone becomes an adult and can get their own, personal augments. Some people get exoskeletons or fantastical genitals or fully upload themselves in some sort of Matrix setup. Anything other than the first ones has to come out of pocket, there's no government or insurance help with the cost. A few months of grinding shifts at the hotel and Guy had saved up the dough and vacation time to head downtown and get fitted with an interface.
Interfaces were probably the most common augment, sure, but the possibilities were limitless. He barely ever needed his phone anymore, only when he needed to do more than three things at once. The interface bypassed his eyes even, projecting its screen directly into his thoughts. Same with sound. He could take calls, surf the internet, watch movies- even the Virtual Reality ones- or augment his own reality as needed.
It certainly made sitting at his desk watching TV and playing games more fun, while the novelty was still around. He was out of the woods on the recovery and adjustment period, and was finally able to almost always do what he was trying to do with the interface. And he almost never got headaches anymore! Guy called up a list of torrents with new episodes from the direct anime uploaders, trying to find the one that looked most complete and least sketchy. Hotel work may pay enough for a low end apartment and a single augment, but not enough for streaming services. He queued up a download and settled in for another few levels of the zombie killing game he was playing.
The download finished alarmingly quick. Before he could even open the files to see what was actually in the download, a program started to run before abruptly closing. That was suspicious. Guy sat up, trying to remember how he was shown to access his antivirus program on the interface. Was it an app? Or was it more of a built in process? He rubbed his eyes.
"Congratulations! You've won!" A bright scrolling banner with images of money and gold bars flitted across his consciousness. Great! Fantastic! This thing has fucking pop ups! Guy cursed, willing the pop ups to close. Once the glitzy gifs promising $10,000 augments for free had slowed enough, he tried opening his antivirus program again. This time, it did show itself, however the option to run a scan was greyed out. The helpful little support chatbot informed him that his health insurance only covers one scan every 30 days, and he used his monthly scan last week. It would be another 25 days before he could run a scan again. Of course, it told him, he could just pay out of pocket for a new scan, but after getting the augmentations, he didn't exactly have the spare funds to afford a paid scan.
He tried to find the files and delete them manually, but even deleting the episode the virus was attached to didn't work. Every few minutes, another annoying link floated through his mind like the thoughts of a hyperactive child. Buy buy buy! Click here! Do you want a bigger THING? Guy groaned, leaning back into his desk chair. Okay, he could deal with this. He'd just smoke some weed before work to keep his other thoughts from joining the fray and just deal with closing them manually. If it stays only every few minutes, he can probably handle it. It's only a few weeks. He'll be fine.
After only a few days, Guy had gotten into the groove of dispelling the ads before he even knew what they said. One frame of bright yellow in his mind and it was gone. He shuffled around his bathroom, brushing his teeth and pulling on his work clothes. Click me! Poof. Pull on socks. Download NOW!! Poof. Grab an energy drink out of the fridge and head to work. Congratulations! You've wo- Walk directly into a pole.
"Argh! I'm not going to click your fucking links!" Guy cried, rubbing the growing bump on his head.
"Okay," a calm voice said in his head. It was the general androgynous text-to-speech voice most of the AI systems around used. Placating and cool and devoid of any specific accent or tone.
Guy paused. "Okay?"
"Okay," the voice repeated. Was this the virus?
"Just like that, you'll stop showing me those damn pop ups?"
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This is what I consider my not!fic writing style, where i wouldn't consider this the final prose for this chapter AT ALL, its more like an outline disguised as prose. Anyways
im gonna post some of my writing wips unedited out of my obsidian files bc i don't write a lot and maybe if anyone wants me to try and noodle more on them i will lol
(7/30/26) The Red Cross just declared the second US blood crisis in its history.
Summer sees both a drop off in donations and, at least for our trauma center, a spike in traumas. Trauma centers across the US are in danger of running out of blood for our trauma patients TODAY, which is very scary but, unlike much of the other scary national news coming across our screens these days, is something you can help fix immediately and directly.
We need ASAP donations of blood, for people to spread the word, and for manager types to help facilitate others' donations. All blood types are needed, but universal donor blood (type O) is especially dire.
Many things that previously made people ineligible have been rolled back. If you previously thought you were ineligible, please consider checking current guidelines!
While O- is the most dire need as it can be safely given to anyone in an emergency, all types are needed! Our emergent release blood is being pulled for patients who have a high chance of death if they don't get blood within the hour. Once they're stabilized, they can have their type confirmed and get blood of a specific, matching type released to them so that O- can go to the patients who need it most.
Canada is also in a blood shortage, not just the US. Even if you're not in the USA or Canada, maybe check locally, especially if it's summer where you are.
1) do this even if you're under 40. seriously. I definitely should have been doing something like this for years and I only turned 40 a month and a half ago
2) if you're like me just now trying this going "oh god i've only done 15 and i think my hands are cramping" start lower than 30 and increase by 5 once whatever number you're doing no longer makes your hand cramp up. I can manage about 15 per exercise at the moment.
having hobbies that have contradictory circumstances can be so annoying. what I mean is like I want to paint my nails but I know in 2 hours I'll be making a loaf of bread and kneading bread with freshly painted nails sounds kinda like a recipe for yucky disaster so I'll have to paint my nails after I make the bread but now idk what to do for 2 hours except nap maybe
