it's kind of insane how disasterous of an effect it can have on your psyche and development as an adult if people thought you were annoying when you were 8

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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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@thejackalghost
it's kind of insane how disasterous of an effect it can have on your psyche and development as an adult if people thought you were annoying when you were 8
Tbh germ theory DOES sound crazy. Like if you told a regency-era nobleman that tiny creatures lived on the surface of everything and THAT’S what causes consumption, they’d be like “ah, I see you are a lunatic. Would you reside in my hermitage? Rantings and ravings do so amuse my guests”
But if you told a Medieval person this they would probably go "Ah, so when the miasma settles on surfaces it gains evil life. I understand."
Yeah, actually, it would probably be pretty easy to explain germ theory to a Medieval person as tiny evil spirits that live on everything, but they can be purified by soap and water, or by alcohol, because that is why God has granted us those things. And because they can float in the air, if you cough or sneeze after they have infested you, that can cause them to infest others. And when you are sick, the angels God has deputized to defend the bodies of His beloved children are at war with the evil spirits, and, sadly, sometimes they lose, but the best way to help your angels win their battle is to rest, drink plenty (this would probably be small beer in this time period, not water, because the water was also infested), stay clean, and for the sake of God do not allow anyone to let your blood, for the angels need that blood in their war against the evil spirits. Bloodletting is good for some types of illnesses but not the kinds caused by the tiny evil spirits.
boiling as a sterilization measure is also easy to explain. water returns to the air when heated and it rises as steam back up to the floodgates of heaven; we know God created the world in seven days, He's not up there making more water every time it rains. it circulates. the returning of water to heaven also purifies the water of unclean and malign influences. you know wormy water from a muddy puddle will kill your kid. you know you wouldn't wade into a bog and have a slurp. water that remains in the low places of earth absorbs all that is unclean from our waste and it may also sponge up new diseases from hell, we're not totally sure about that one, but it seems likely. God set up the heavenly water cycle so that the earth's waters wouldn't totally fill up with gunk.
what does this have to do with boiling your surgical tools? well look, the boiling water releases bubbles of steam which carries the malign influences up to heaven. you boil a knife, you send all the miasmic particles off with the steam to heaven. if you rinse the knife off in a bucket the water isn't hot enough, the particles go into the water and then right back on to the knife. you gotta boil it to get the particles all the way away. how can a tool or rag or a bed have miasmic particles on it when you can't smell them? humans have a lousy sense of smell. look at your dog on the hunt. are there no rabbits in the woods just because you can't smell them? we know that miasma is carried on the air, and is what makes stench so dangerous, and we know that humans can't smell worth a damn compared to dogs cats horses etc. a dog can smell if a rat died in a corner of the room last week. you can't. do you think licking the spot where the rat died is going to go well for you? luckily, what humans lack in snout we make up for in brains. we have extra brains where our sniffers should have been. God set that up for a reason.
and why does a rinse with wine spirits work? man, look how fast alcohol evaporates. my guess is that because wine contains a lot more vice than water, it evaporates a whole lot faster, in sort of an equal and opposite way that a rock falls faster than a feather. if you want the miasmic particles to get off there FAST, you dunk it in something that's going back to heaven at a gallop.
what's up with honey? it just preserves things against corruption. doesn't clean them off. honey doesn't evaporate at all. probably because bees don't sin. it's not good for ridding a tool of particles-- it's sticky-- but fine for preserving anything you don't want to go to heaven OR hell. this is why you wash the wound with wine spirits or purified water FIRST, to sluice the miasma out, then slap the honey on AFTER. and boil the damn bandage, too. you wouldn't put a rotten door in a sound doorframe and expect it to keep out bandits, would you? cmon.
"People are not property!" - *loud cheering*
"This includes prisoners! They are not suddenly property of the state when they're convicted!" - *a little less cheering*
"And that includes children who are not their parents' property!" - *almost no cheering*
"What? I thought we said people aren't property?"
REBLOG IF ITS OKAY TO TALK TO YOU.
Please.
Item: The Couch Rarity: ⏶ Common
Couch co-op or online?
Feed your dashboard by answering my question, blogger.
Online, but playing co-op next to others is so fun and social rewarding
Ancient of Space!Phantom who can, and does create planets, as well as stars, asteroids, ect. Its part of his job and he remembers every single thing hes ever created. But, he remembers Krypton the most, and with great fondness.
Krypton was the first planet Phantom ever created. He had so much fun, and since it was his first, he put so much care into it. He cried when the first signs of life took form- but after creating the planet, Phantom could no longer directly interfere, he could only watch.
Phantom was so sad when Krypton was destroyed, and he thought all of the inhabitants were dead. He mourned the Planet and the life it held for a long time. When he eventually met the Supers, and smelled Krypton clinging to them, he openly wept. Phantom immediately picked them all up, and cradled them in his arms like they were his babies, chirping happily that some fragments of his beloved First Creation still existed.
The Justice League had faced gods before. They had faced reality-warpers, ancient cosmic entities, beings older than time itself. So when the Watchtower alarms screamed about an unknown energy signature larger than a solar flare appearing just outside Earth’s atmosphere, everyone assumed the worst.
Superman was first into the observation deck and froze. Floating in the void beyond the glass was a figure wreathed in green starlight. He looked humanoid but vast in a way that made the mind stumble. Space bent around him like a river around a rock. Nebulae swirled in his long white hair. Tiny stars blinked in the dark fabric of his cloak as though sewn from the night sky itself. His pale skin glowed a pale blue like floating ice. His glowing green eyes were fixed solely on Superman. Then on Supergirl. Then on Jon, who had been visiting the Watchtower that day.
The stranger made a sound, a tiny, broken gasp. “Oh,” he whispered and then he started crying.
Everyone tensed.
“League formation—” Batman barked.
Too late. The being vanished and reappeared in the center of the Watchtower. There was no boom, no flash, no warning—one second empty space, the next ancient power in the room.
Before anyone could react, he scooped up Superman, Supergirl, and Jon. All three Kryptonians were suddenly bundled into his arms in a crushing, glowing embrace.
Batman stared.
Wonder Woman blinked.
Green Lantern actually choked.
The being was openly sobbing. “My babies—” he cried, clutching them close. “My little star-born babies, you lived—some of you lived—”
Superman, pinned and bewildered, managed, “I’m sorry, what—?”
The being nuzzled the top of his head. “You smell like Krypton.”
Everything stopped. The room went dead silent.
Supergirl’s eyes widened. “How do you know Krypton?”
The being pulled back just enough to stare at her with wet, luminous eyes. “How do I know—?” His voice cracked. “Beloved, I made Krypton.”
Silence.
“…you what?” Hal Jordan asked.
The being sniffled, still refusing to release the Kryptonians. “I made Krypton,” he repeated softly, like it should be obvious. “It was my first planet.”
Nobody moved.
Nobody breathed.
Superman stared. “You’re saying…” he said slowly, carefully, “you created my homeworld?”
The being’s expression turned impossibly tender. “With my own hands,” he whispered.
Suddenly the observation deck vanished. No, it shifted. Stars exploded around them. Reality peeled back like a curtain. They stood now in open cosmos, yet somehow still breathed, still lived, suspended in a memory made manifest.
The being smiled shakily. “I remember every world I have ever shaped,” he said. “Every star ignited. Every asteroid spun. Every moon tucked into orbit.” He points to the him in the memory and they watched a being so old create a world.
Dust gathered in his palm. They watched as it swirled before it was compressed. A tiny planet formed there, spinning gently over his skin.
“My name is Phantom,” he said. “Ancient of Space. Creator of Worlds.”
The miniature planet dissolved into glittering cosmic dust.
“And Krypton…” His voice softened into something heartbreakingly fond. “Krypton was my first.”
He waved his hand and it showed a vision of a newborn world taking shape in darkness. Molten oceans cooling beneath crimson skies. Continents rising. The first rains. The first forests. The first creatures. The first people.
Phantom watched it all with tears in his eyes. “I spent so long on it,” he whispered. “I wanted it to be perfect. I was so proud when life first bloomed. I cried for a week when the first child was born beneath Rao’s light.”
Supergirl’s breath hitched. Superman looked like someone had struck him. Jon was in awe
“But after creation,” Phantom continued, voice trembling, “I could not interfere. None of us can. We make. We watch. We love from afar.”
The vision shifted and it showed Krypton but it was older, advanced, and unstable. There were cracks spreading through its core. There was fire and destruction and the planet was no more.
Phantom crumpled to his knees. “I watched it die,” he whispered. “And I thought-" he gasps, "-I thought all my little ones were gone.”
Jon’s face softened. “You mourned us?”
Phantom looked at him like the question itself hurt. “As every parent does when they loose a child.”
He reached out with trembling fingers and touched each of their faces with reverence. “You carry the scent of my first sunrise,” he whispered.
Superman broke. No one had ever spoken of Krypton like that. Not as a lost civilization. Not as a tragedy. But as something loved before it even existed. Superman’s eyes shone.
“You remember it all?” he asked quietly.
Phantom smiled through tears. “Every mountain ridge I carved. Every ocean trench. Every mineral vein beneath the crust. I remember where I placed each continent because I thought the shape looked nice from orbit.”
Hal muttered, “That is the most insane thing I’ve ever heard.”
Batman, somehow still functioning, narrowed his eyes. “If you are truly a creator-level cosmic entity, why reveal yourself now?”
Phantom’s expression softened. “Because I smelled Krypton.” He hugged the three Kryptonians closer. “I had resigned myself to grief.” His voice cracked again. “Then suddenly—there it was. My world. My first world. On living souls.”
Superman’s composure shattered completely. He wrapped his arms around Phantom. The Ancient of Space froze.
“You made my home,” Clark whispered.
“Yes.”
“You watched over it.”
“Yes.”
“You loved it.”
“With everything I have.”
Superman swallowed hard. “Then… thank you.”
Phantom made a soft, broken sound.
Batman pinched the bridge of his nose. “We are not dealing with this in the briefing room,” he muttered.
“No,” Diana said softly, smiling as she watched Phantom cradle the Kryptonians like hatchlings. “I believe we are witnessing a family reunion.”
Jon grinned. “Does this make him our space grandpa?”
Phantom gasped dramatically. “I am FAR too youthful and radiant to be a grandfather.”
“You’re ancient,” Batman said flatly.
Phantom sniffed. “Rude.”
And for the first time since Krypton died—
The one who made it was no longer mourning alone. Far above Earth, in the silent dark between stars, the creator of Krypton held the last children of his beloved first world close and wept tears of joy into their hair. His planet had not died completely. Some part of it had survived and he would treasure that miracle forever.
In the future, children will think our ways are strange. "Why do old people always grow so much milkweed in their gardens?" they'll say. "Why do old people always write down when the first bees and butterflies show up? Why do old people hate lawn grass so much? Why do old people like to sit outside and watch bees?"
We will try to explain to them that when we were young, most people's yards were almost entirely short grass with barely any flowers at all, and it was so commonplace to spray poisons to kill insects and weeds that it was feared monarch butterflies and American bumblebees would soon go extinct. We will show them pictures of sidewalks, shops, and houses surrounded by empty grass without any flowers or vegetables and they will stare at them like we stared at pictures of grimy children working in coal mines
We will be feeding our grandchildren strawberries and raspberries we grew in our gardens, dragging them along to the farmers' markets for tomatoes and eggs and goats milk and pickles and pecans and salsa and sunflower seed butter and jars of honey, as they complain and drag their feet because Gramma always stands around talking to people for like an HOUR
and we will say "When I was YOUR age, fruits and vegetables came from a supermarket and they were bred to get shipped 1000 miles in a truck and sit on shelves for weeks, and they tasted so sour and watery it was like eating paper compared to these ones. It wasn't even legal in some places to grow your own food"
and they will roll their eyes like yeah yeah just because everything was miserable in the 20s doesn't mean I have to have a smile on my face standing in the hot sun while you listen to that one guy talk about his bees FOREVER
But they will go, because there might be baby goats.
Since I made this post, dozens and dozens of people have left tags telling me that it was the first thing today that made them want to continue living, that it was the first thing that made them consider that they might be okay years in the future, that they might grow old, that it was the first and only post of its kind they'd ever seen—the first post that boldly predicts a future where we make it.
And many other people have been just spitting, foaming at the mouth fucking FURIOUS. How dare I have the audacity to imagine a future where things get better?
Don't I know how BAD things are? Am I not aware of the TERROR and DEVASTATION of climate change and fascism and biodiversity loss? How dare someone be so bold, so callous, as to imagine something other than misery and suicide. How dare someone suggest it will get better. How dare a person propose that there is a future where we will be okay, in the face of so much terror. Hasn't she seen the abyss opening its jaws before us?
Well? What do you think?
Do you think I've seen the abyss?
the idea that there is hope for the future is the only way we have this kind of future.
there were kids who stayed inside because of the black plague and went on to help cure it.
there were women who sat at home and cleaned the house and dreamt up a world where they could vote and have jobs.
there were kids in the mines who thought up a life outside of it. there were children who hid in annexes and wrote a diary where they prayed for a future without a terrible man in control
there were slaves who wanted freedom so badly and had hope that it would get better
there were gay people who hid in the corners of clubs and fought back for a future where they could walk down the street together
do you know what all of that has in common? they had hope that things would get better and they made that change. they looked at the world in its cruel ways and fought back.
so now, there are kids and teenagers and young adults and new adults who dream of a world so beautiful and the only amazon their grandchildren know is the rainforest
and it is in everything we do that we find this hope. wishing on dandelions, counting the stars, making our own clothes out of crochet or knit or sewing it, watching the sunset, going to the farmer’s market, feeding the birds, planting seeds.
step by step, we dream up, like our ancestors before us, a beautiful world
THE ONLY AMAZON OUR GRANDCHILDREN WILL KNOW IS THE RAINFOREST
You can have hope and fight. In fact, it’s the only way we will possibly succeed.
just so yall know
art block is your brain telling you to do studies.
draw a still life. practice some poses. sketch some naked people. do a color study. try out a different technique on a basic shape.
art block doesnt stop you from drawing, it stops you from making your drawings look the way you want them to. and thats because you need to push your skills to the next level so you can preform at that standard
think of it as level grinding for your next work.
As a scientific illustrator- this is 100% true and going to review your basics will fix it every goddamn time. Not only does it keep your skills sharp, when you’re not emotionally invested in the final product of a piece, you relax and your brain makes more/better art juice for you. So, when you get back to that big/important piece? You’ll know what to do and how to do it.
Nothing in nature blooms all year round. Rest, and take care of yourself.
i want someone to put this into writer’s blocks now
Writer’s block means you need to relearn the whole alphabet. idiot.
For writers block- same thing. Do Studies.
Write a description of an object. write the weather today. Write a made up characterization of a random photo of an actor from the internet as to the character they are in that picture. Write a little story about your pet’s day. Write about spilling soup and make it super dramatic and tragic. Write about someone’s day being ruined and make it funny. Write a meetcute coffeeshop AU of two OCs you’d never put together- maybe from different stories. Write them breaking up.
Write a bunch of short stuff meant for no audience ever and super duper self indulgent.
@sweetiepie08
@kanerallels
I found out relatively recently that it really helps if I write short fiction surrounding the novels I write. Like oh? I’m stuck for a bit? Ooh there was that section I wanted to explore but doesn’t fit in the plot really. There was that what-if that could never happen in the actual story but would be fun to explore. It keeps me in the characters’ headspace (tho that’s not always what I’m needing) but not right where they are exactly.
Yes! I have gotten past writers’ block multiple times by writing drabble collections. Making something coherent happen in just 100 words is a very different challenge from writing a long story and it also lets me get past plot points that I don’t want to explore in-depth.
I am also going to have to start drawing studies now…
thinking about how roman is the ego likely because thomas' ego is very attached to his creativity, so in another universe thomas' ego could be attached to a different aspect of himself and therefore that side
What if Thomas continued his chemical engineering career??
Imagine Mr. Logic as the ego bro. How far into pretentious academic are we going
Not to mention extreme reliance on academic validation and being seen as smart!
Ooh the thing about that is Roman has such an ego for Thomas obviously but his own ego is so incredibly fragile.
Now there's a lot of Logan angst but I don't think his ego is nearly as fragile as Romans.
So. If hes the ego. Do you thing he'd develope Romans own self esteem issues based off of how well Thomas performs academically. He'd end up with the fragile ego.
OR. Do you think his own sense of ego would transfer over to Thomas', making Thomas more stubborn rigid because he knows he's right about things.
And if Thomas never delve as much into his creativity, roman never became the ego, what would he have left? Would he develope Logan's complex of never feeling listened to? Of constantly being sidelined?? Would he *be* more sidelined?? Never taken seriously?
Oh that's just creativity, head always in the clouds. That's not relevant to what we're talking about, Roman. Not every problem requires you. We're talking about the real world. Why don't you just sit this one out.
So eventually roman starts to see himself that way. He can only go so long before he genuinely thinks of himself as a background element to Thomas' life. Not important. He's literally just a hobby.
I had to doodle Roman in this universe. The dreamer. The adventurer.
Here’s my question, how would this effect the others? Would the concept of “dark” and “light” still exist? With Logan being the ego, would it instead be the more logical view of those who fit into the right brain, those who fit into the left brain, and those who fit into some other part (such as the amygdala?) Or would they remain unnamed, simply the others? If Roman wasn’t acting as the classic Disney prince, would there be as much of a conflict between right and wrong, black and white? Or would Thomas (and by extension the others) also be more willing to see the benefits of the others without immediately labeling them bad or good?
Would anything change at all, other than Thomas being more academic? Or, better question, would the channel exist at all, or at least in the way that it is? With Thomas’s ego not being creative anymore, how would that effect what he puts out?
Would he still be our Thomas? Or would this alternate version of him be a complete stranger to us, someone we wouldn’t know or fully comprehend in the context of our own universe?
What conflicts would he have instead? Or again, would this small switch change much of anything? It’s not like being the ego makes you more listened to than the others, more important or in control, so would anything major change other than the dynamic shift?
Actually, if Thomas thought more like Logan, and Roman was shoved to the side as not as important, wouldn’t that change Patton as a whole? If Thomas’s way of thinking and overall goals changed, it would fundamentally change his morals, right? And Patton, as morality, would have to change accordingly to those morals. Would Thomas have always thought like this, or did he used to do theatre and at some point in his life decide that it wasn’t a logical or productive career, and get that degree instead? Would he still be an actor, or would he be a scientist?
And also, with Roman changing into the less listened to dreamer, how would that change Remus? Remus has been described as the “funhouse mirror” or “evil twin” of Roman, would that still be the case? What would the evil twin of an insecure dreamer be? Or, would Logan, as ego, have an “evil twin” or counterpart instead? What would that look like? Would Orange and Remus switch? We don’t yet know what Orange is, so would Remus become the mystery? Or would Janus? Virgil? Speaking of Janus and Virgil, would they be accepted faster? Although, Logan was quick to dismiss him early on, so would that still be the case? Would it actually take longer for them to be accepted, because Logan dismissing them would be seen as logical instead of creative differences (that’s a pun) or black and white thinking?
Am I just overthinking this? That’s the one question I’ll answer,
Yes.
I'M BACK IN THE FUCKING BUILDING AGAIN/ref
I finally found my motivation to draw and thought this was a fun project to do ^^ I plan to make a light sides version and maybe color it digitally
Virgil's like "I'm probably nonbinary but I have The Horrors™ so idrc about that rn"
i’m getting evicted from my own mind palace
I never really fleshed out Magnus much as far as how exactly he talked to the sides went so here’s some Logan and Magnus doodles :)
I’m fighting finals and shit (again, yayyyyy) is it possible to get some words of wisdom from Logan? Ik it’s been a hot minute since you’ve drawn him but I need the support
(You can also do someone else if you prefer)
You're right, it has been a hot minute since I drew him
Best of luck to you and your studies!!! ᕕ(*≧▽≦)づ♡
Item: The Time Machine Rarity: ⏶ Common
What game do you associate most strongly with a specific time in your life?
Feed your dashboard by answering my question, blogger.
I’d say probably animal crossing and Minecraft, during the pandemic (ah :0) and coming back from it, I was really stressed and my mental health was at an all time low (like the song). But running around my little worlds and building and talking to villagers (and collecting critters), really helped me through all of that. Being able to come home and turn up the music on my switch, and listen to the nature ambiance of the games was so relaxing. I never really got to the expert builder level in Minecraft, but making houses and buildings, and just exploring the world was a wonderful experience. I never had a purpose, and never got around to beating any of the smaller challenges in Minecraft (and I also didn’t have online play), so I would just run around and pretend all by myself. It was lonely, but it was fun. :)
I know I need to pull myself out of this.
It’s my responsibility to find the way out.
But the fog is so thick, and outside is just so, so loud.
The blinding mist dampens the noise that hurts.
I know this is bad for me, it’s something to fear.
I am not fear, I am not real, I am not even a person.
I am not the hands writing this, merely the thoughts behind.
I am something they ignore,
I am something to be ignored,
I am something to be lost in the fog,
I am lost.
So Janus told Virgil his power could basically go against king, virgil obviously didn't go against him, becuase he was-big suprise- anxious about for a multitude of reasons (involving roman and more). But could he go against kings power in other, like what it reversed the baby patton a few years older (bonus points if it's the same age as flashback) but of course i can only imagine what would happen if king found out about it.
First I was beyond excited and flattered that you directed this ask at me. Can't explain it, it's how it is.
Second... I agree that would be interesting, but it's more complicated than that. The power Janus was referring to was Virgil's own power as anxiety. In that function he can overrule any of the sides or support them. Fear can paralyze every aspect of you. Rational thought, creativity, it can overpower your emotions or, in extreme circumstances even your Morality. As I said it can also boost those aspects, see accepting anxiety. If he wanted to use that to undo some damage he'd have to use it on king to persuade him to take back his gifts.
The power you are talking about, the power to change the others is (and correct me if I completely misunderstood here @kingcreativityau) a very advanced form of his very new creation power.
In my 'might have been' series Virgil has had this power for most of his life and might actually feel competent enough to try it. That is assuming king leaves him alone with the others long enough to do that.
In this timeline however Virgil will be too scared to mess up. What if be ages him out of existence, what if he changes more than just age and corrupts Patton?
So I don't think he'll risk it. He'd need king to teach him more about his new powers first and if they get to that point in training it would have to mean that king is confident Virgil is truly on his side. And I don't think the role of double agent suits our boy well. So let's hope for everyone's sake king will never get that far with Virgil. Imagine the terrifying power they'd hold? Though Virgil will probably always be more merciful to his family than king. Still that would prob be the worst possible ending.
@moonlightshow00 @naturallyunstablegamer @antiredhuman @meowthefluffy @alias290