Cherytmblracc - Cheri

I haven't watched tpot 9 /SRS.

OMG I LOVE THIS SONG!!!

When there's something you don't know

It's only natural to want to find out

Show me everything

And just for you, I'll show you mine too…

If you recognize the pose, you’re old enough to qualify for a veteran’s discount on Tumblr lol

Writing Description Notes:

Updated 9th September 2024 More writing tips, review tips & writing description notes

Facial Expressions

Masking Emotions

Smiles/Smirks/Grins

Eye Contact/Eye Movements

Blushing

Voice/Tone

Body Language/Idle Movement

Thoughts/Thinking/Focusing/Distracted

Silence

Memories

Happy/Content/Comforted

Love/Romance

Sadness/Crying/Hurt

Confidence/Determination/Hopeful

Surprised/Shocked

Guilt/Regret

Disgusted/Jealous

Uncertain/Doubtful/Worried

Anger/Rage

Laughter

Confused

Speechless/Tongue Tied

Fear/Terrified

Mental Pain

Physical Pain

Tired/Drowsy/Exhausted

Eating

Drinking

Warm/Hot

Did you give Gabriel a part time job as a way to punish him or was that just a quick idea? I find it so funny lol cus imagine his greatest fear is just working as a barista again (or does it motivate him to destroy humans?)

Pretty much LMAO. I dunno if I mentioned it before, but most of the time alternates own their own businesses, which employ other alternates, since that's easiest for them to keep their cover. In this post, I mentioned Gabriel owns and operates a small coffee cafe called Paradise Brew because, surprise, the church needs money to run, and there aren't enough donations coming in because it's individually funded. But not many people attend church anymore due to the severely decreased population in Mandela, and generally people are losing faith. Which is all totally Gabriel's fault due to the alternate surge in the 1990s, but he didn't really think that far, did he??

So now, he suffers through people's atrocious drink orders and their nasty attitudes. It's not...the worst, there are SOME nice people, as he vagues about in this comic. But no, surely, all of humanity deserves to be destroyed.

...Yes, surely. Every last one...

⚔️ Ten of Swords ⚔️

(really really really late Ides of March art based on this ask)

my grandpa was a good man. and it really wasnt his fault - recreationally lying to kids is a proud family tradition - but he told me, once, that cutting a worm in half resulted in two worms.

i think he said it so i'd be more morally okay with fishing? i actually dont remember the context.

point was, he told me this, and he understimated (by a very large margin) how much i liked worms. i was a worm boy. very wormy. and after hearing that, i went home, and i dug through the garden, flipped over every rock, did everything i could to gather as many worms as i could, and then i uh.

i cut them all in half. every worm i could find. all of them. with scissors.

i then took this pile of split worms, and i put them in a box with a bit of lettuce and some water and stuff and went to bed expecting to double my worms overnight. i have math autism, so i had a vague understanding that if i did this just a few times in a row, i would eventually have a completely unreasonable amount of worms.

i was very excited to become this plane's worm emperor.

(i think i was...six?)

anyway, i did not become the inheritor of the worm crown. i instead woke up to a box of dead worms and cried. a lot. i got diagnosed with panic attacks as a teenager, but i think i had them as a kid, i just had no idea what they were. i was kind of processing that a.) i had killed what i had assumed was every single worm in my yard, and thus would have no more worms, and b). i was going to like, worm hell.

(six year babylon spent a lot of time worrying about god.)

so i kind of freaked out, and i climbed a tree, because god can only smite you if you're touching the ground (?) and i sat up there mostly inconsolable until my mom came out and asked, hey, what's up? what happened?

so i explained to her that i had killed all of the worms, forever, and was also Damned, and she took me to the compost pile, and we dug for all of five seconds and found like twenty more worms.

the compost pile was full of worms.

and she told me that a). there were more worms, and we could put them back under rocks and stuff and recolonize our yard and b). that one day, i would die, and i would go to heaven, and i would be able to talk to the worms, and i would be able to tell them all that i was very sorry, and that i killed them on accident out of excessive Love, and that they would forgive me, because worms have six hearts and no malice.

at that point, i think i was sixty percent tear-snot by weight, and i had no choice but to gather enough worms that i could hug them. which my mom helped with. and then after that she helped me put some worms back under each rock.

and for my epilogue: i spent a significant portion of my childhood in trees. and for many years after, even when my mom didnt know i was watching, i would catch her giving the space under the rocks a light spritz with the hose. not because she loved worms.

but because she loved me.

Some silly Gabriel doodles from the Discord 👌👌

won't you give me what i want?

just wanna add onto my reblog of this to say that I made a fuck bunch of noises when I realized that Gabriel is (probably) the one asking the question

Does it matter?

(textless vers. below)

Not only is AI dangerous because of the implications but, even more importantly, it’s damaging the backbone of online society: Those of us who make stupid little edits in the free knock off photoshop app on our phones