but no time to render them all

McDonald’s facts
  • The special sauce used in Big Macs still remains a secret even to this day. While dataminers have found a number of data involving the ingredients, the optimization algorithm remains unknown.
  • McNuggets were once thought to be procedurally generated via metaball physics but this has been disproven since. What we do know about McNuggets is that a normal texture is applied to the surface to give the illusion of bumps, when in fact the model is made up of very few polygons to reduce costs.
  • All items in the drive thru are not rendered until they are actually taken out of the bag. Physics do apply to them however, so watch out
  • The reason why hamburgers, etc look “better” in promotional content is because the low detail models and textures are used in the restaurant instead. If they did use their high detail models at all times, McDonald’s would have to start dedicating more costs to their worker processes.
  • “All day breakfast” was not possible for a long time due to a glitch where any breakfast data would get corrupted when served at an irregular time. This was fixed in an update that took advantage of faster GPU clock speeds. There have been a few successful attempts to get corrupted breakfasts since, with hash browns producing the most interesting results.
  • The McFlurry machine was intended to be released in an update years down the road, but it was rushed due to time constraints and now we have the infamous buggy and unoptimized mess.
  • I would like to give a fact on the new “Grand Mac” but even the bun’s data is encrypted so it’s currently impossible to even view any of it. 
Long Live Octopus Pie

Three cheers!

I check the webpage out of habit, but Meredith Gran’s comic work Octopus Pie is over.  I feel like this is how sports fans feel when a jersey is retired and lifted to the rafters, forever in its untouchable place, time divided between when it was active and whatever comes after.  

That might sound grandiose, but in my mind, nothing tops the ten year run of Octopus Pie.  And in the lifespan of what we call Webcomics, 2007-2017 is a granddaddy of a run, worthy of names like “pioneering,” “influential” and “groundbreaking” because in the space of those years, in this new medium, there was room to be those things without any hyperbole.  The comics landscape of the past decade needed filling out and Meredith carved her space out with precision, showing a polish and drive and a talent from the beginning that set a high standard.  

I’m guessing that I started Hark a Vagrant about six months after Octopus Pie began, but Meredith’s was already a name to be reckoned with, due to the solid reputation of her previous comic Skirting Danger and because she was an honest to god trained animator in a sea of stickmen comics or two-dudes-on-a-couch comics (RIP forever *kisses fingers, holds them to the sky*). I was intimidated by her sheer capability.  But inspired too.  I did not need to be intimidated, she was one of the first people I met in comics, and easily one of the best.

Meredith and I briefly shared an apartment and a studio, and I can tell you, she can draw circles around everyone you know.  I later shared a studio with Mike Holmes, who could also draw circles around everyone, and now the two of them are married in some sort of talent supernova.  I am happy for them, even though I feel like I make grade three crayon pictures next to them.  But the other thing that being friends with Meredith for a long time has shown is the cutting wit, the care for stories done right, the love for a medium that will take you through highs and lows that come with comics, and lately through her job as a comics professor, the nurturing of upcoming talent.  I see all of this in Octopus Pie, a comic where character was paramount, where plots were expertly moved, a fine balance was found between the messiness of people and the fun you can have with stories, where subtle emotional movements where rendered with room to breathe, where I felt like I could reach deep into the hearts and minds of the characters on the page because they had been fleshed out so well over the years that they seemed as real people, people that I loved.

I don’t really like that phrase “comics will break your heart,” commonly attributed to Schultz, or Kirby, it doesn’t really matter.  You see it all the time, mostly when people are reckoning with the fact that they work in an unforgiving medium.  I don’t even know what it is about the saying that I don’t like.  Maybe it’s because we all know that comics are hard work, we all know that you might put your life and blood and heart into something and you might get nothing back.  There are no surprises to be found there - it’s not a bad day you had, it’s a life you’re well aware of living, if you do.  But we love the perserverers in comics.  The people who live the phrase are the ones who inspire us the most.

I’m saying all this, and pardon the segue, because I have seen Octopus Pie, some of the finest story work of my generation, passed for recognition time and again and it confuses the hell out of me, truly.  I don’t want to turn a tribute to a work I hold dear into sour grapes, that’s not the intention here, but lord above, if I can’t point this out now, then when can I?  We all know that there are no guarantees in this life (comics will break your heart) but I’ll say this once and then leave it: this is a comic of quality that was miles ahead of so many of its peers, and it deserved better, industry wise.  To wrap up the earlier point, maybe I don’t like CWBYH because it implies that you should shrug your shoulders and not ask for better every time, that a short end of some kind of stick is expected even.  That’s easy when it’s yourself, but speaking as a fan now, I say to heck with shrugging, I want to put Meredith on my shoulders and parade her around and dump her into a Scrooge McDuck thing full of awards.  

Actually that sounds pointy and bad and the Ignatz awards are bricks to begin with so maybe forget that analogy but you get the idea.

I hope you read Octopus Pie, I hope you buy the books.  I hope the legacy of it is long and full, because it always will be for me.  And I think readers will agree, because I know this devoted fan base pretty well.  I read the comments, I’ve sat next to Mer at comic shows, I’ve listened to some of the emails that touched her.  I know this is a comic that meant a lot, to a lot of us.  In this world of work we put our hearts and souls into to begin with, that is a wonderfully worthy thing.

I do not know what Meredith will do next, but whatever it is, I am here for it, seat pulled close to the stage.  The retired jersey is in the rafters, the game is still being played by the people who dreamed better because it was there.  Aw what can I say, I’m sentimental!

 Thanks, Meredith. <3

pretty boy ☾ peter parker

summary : you think peter is very pretty, and your duty as his girlfriend is to tell him every chance you get.

wc : 1.4k 

  Peter Parker has freckles. They’re countless in amount and infinitesimal in size, but they’re spread across his sloped nose, his cheeks, and some of them are scattered across his shoulders from the days he spends at Rockaway Beach in the summertime sun not because he likes the beach, but because you do and you drag him there almost every day throughout July. He doesn’t mind. He can’t have you taking the train there alone, and he’d rather spend time with you in the sweltering heat than leave you by yourself. If you’re sitting close enough, the way you are right in this moment, you can count each one of those stars on his cheeks and play connect the dots with a ballpoint pen, if he’d let you. He most likely would. Peter would let you get away with anything. If you were to try to kiss each individual freckle that was settled there on his skin you’d be pressing your lips to his cheeks for hours on end. He’d like to see you try such a thing. 

   Peter Parker also has the sweetest brown eyes you’ve ever had the pleasure of gazing into. They were warm and kind and they felt like home whenever he turned them on you in that loving way he held. You love the way he looks at you, often and bright with happiness. You haven’t stopped looking at him since you started all those months ago, you couldn’t anticipate a time when you would. He doesn’t mind the permanent way his eyes settle on you, but it’s the way you’re always looking at him that makes him blush and turn his face away. He’s not much to look at, in his opinion. 

    He whines a little when he catches your eye again, trained on him like a reflex once again. His face glows a red the color of a ripe strawberry as he spins around in his chair and stares at the peeling cover of his science notebook. “What’s wrong, pretty boy?” You grinned when he flushed a deeper shade of crimson, still evading the smile that crept across your face. 

   “Y/N,” he whines once more, the heat creeping up toward the tips of his ears. He turns toward you, holding his cheek in his hand and keeping his elbow propped up on the swivel chair. “You know I get all,” he squirmed around in his chair, “flustered when you call me that.” The admittance came with a great reluctancy on his part, but it only made you smile more as you walked across the room and cleared away the clutter of his desk, taking a seat there so you could continue your study in Peter Parker. “I’m not pretty.” 

    “Shhh,” you chastised, using your foot to spin him back around. “You’re very pretty, Peter.” He stretches out his hand, waiting for you to grab it and hold it as careful as always. He presses a kiss to your knuckles whenever you hold his hand, he knows you think it’s the sweetest thing ever and that every single time he does it, you swoon like it’s your first date all over again. He’s big on holding hands. It’s intimate without being too much, and the teachers can’t really scold him for holding your hand the way they can for kissing you against the lockers when you both think no one is around. Still, he kisses your hand, and you close your eyes, smiling shyly. Then, you say, “How’d I get the sweetest, prettiest boy in the universe to be mine?” 

   “Oh, god,” he takes his hand out of yours and covers his cheeks with them, feeling the warmth of his skin against his palms and squeezing his eyes shut. He can’t believe what you’ve made him. A blushing mess undone the moment you call him pretty, sweet, yours. “Feel my cheek,” he demanded, grabbing your wrist and pressing your palm to his face. You laugh. 

   “You’re burning up, babe,” you say, patting his cheek. “I can’t help it. I have to compliment you. All the time. Every hour of every day.” You tap a finger against his cute nose. 

   “I would compliment you but every time I try you swoop in and render my speech incoherent with that little nickname you have for me,” he kept his fist against his cheek as he stared up at you, your legs dangling off his desk as you extend your hands out for him. He takes them, presses them to his cheek. 

   “What nickname?” You question innocently. “Oh, oh, oh, I know which one. Pretty boy.” You held his scrunched up in embarrassment face in your hands, squishing his cheeks. “So pretty.” 

    “I’m gonna spontaneously combust.” The words came out muffled because of the position his face was in, but if he were being honest, he could feel himself light up every time you said he was pretty, as amusing as the word was to him. Even if he doesn’t think he’s much- anything, really- to be fond of, he’s happy, so happy, that you disagree. 

   You call him pretty boy every chance you get. You seize the opportunity with pride, throwing a wink his direction when you can because he has the dopiest little smile on his face for the rest of the day even if he feigns irritation in the moment. 

     You greet him every morning outside his apartment building with a cup of coffee in your outstretched hand and a sweet smile curling at your lips and a, “Morning, my pretty boy,” and Peter starts his school day with a blush, his arm around the shoulders of the girl that he loves. You lean up to kiss the corner of his mouth. He’s invincible. 

    Then, you see him in chemistry class, goggles strapped to your face and a stupid apron around your neck. His heart still stops when he sees you. You slide in the seat between him and Ned, pulling at his goggle strap before it snaps back to his head as gentle as you can manage. “Did you finish the lab conclusion, pretty boy? I’m stuck on the last sent- Ned what happened to him?” You turned to the other boy, eyebrows raised in confusion because Peter is motionless and the redness is spreading all over his neck. 

   “You called him pretty again,” Ned replied, stretching his hand across the table and waving it in front of Peter’s face. “He’s probably just offended that you didn’t greet me with a compliment.” 

   “C’mon, Ned, you know I think you’re gorgeous.” 

   “I’m actually not deaf, guys.” Peter nudged you playfully, rubbing his cheeks with the sleeves of his gray sweater. You ruffle his honey hair. 

  “We know,” you answered. “Ned’s stunning, obviously-” Ned grins at this- “but you’re forever the only pretty boy for me.” Peter scrunches his nose up. Then, he takes off his goggles, placing them next to the looseleaf paper that has his neatly compiled lab report scrawled over the page. He leans forward, scooting his chair close to you so he can remove your goggles, too. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you quick. He’d put more passion into it if the teacher wasn’t standing across the room, looking for any excuse to separate the two of you. Every teacher was the same. He pulls back after a second, his hands lingering on your cheeks when he gazes at you. 

   “I love you, you beautiful and lovely and wonderful girl of mine.” Triumphantly, he removes his hands and places them back down on the desk. He catches it before you turn away toward Ned, and for a brief and fleeting moment, it’s there on your cheeks. “Oh, oh, what’s that I see? Is that a blush?” He jumps around to Ned’s spot, a stupid, prideful grin on his face as he savors the moment for himself, commits the pretty sight to memory. “Pretty girl, are you blushing?” He pressed his hands to against your face, pinching your cheek gently, lovingly. You punched him in the arm, a warning behind your eyes, but Peter didn’t care in the slightest. 

   “Yes, you big idiot,” you mumbled. “Happy now?” 

   “Oh, I’m very happy.” 

   “I hate you.” 

   “Do you really?” Peter raised his eyebrows, resting his palms against your shoulders and rubbing his thumb along the place where your collarbone peeked out of your shirt. 

   “Of course not,” you said, a grumble in your tone. “I love you and your pretty boy face, sweet little freckles and all.” You poked a couple of his freckles and kissed the one by his mouth. Peter sighed, still smiling brightly because no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t pretend to be annoyed at you when you called him that name. He’d wear it with like a badge of honor, grateful for it. He had an effortlessly gorgeous love that thought he was the prettiest thing she had ever laid her eyes on, so what more could he ask for? 

In the charming and soulful Japanese anime Your Name, two teenagers who have never met wake up rattled to discover that they have switched bodies in their sleep, or more precisely their dreams. And it’s not just their anatomies they’ve exchanged, or even the identities-in-progress each has managed to cobble together at such a tender age. Mitsuha, a spirited but restless small-town girl of Miyazaki-type vintage, and Taki, a Tokyo high school boy, have also swapped the country for the city, with all the psychic and cultural adjustments that will entail.

Soon it grows clear the two have also switched places in time as well, with potentially drastic consequences for at least one of them. Indeed Mitsuha’s village of Itomori may be in terrible danger from the fallout of a beautifully rendered approaching comet. The kicker is that the fallout fell three years ago.

‘Your Name’ Goes There: Teens Switch Bodies In Charming, Dreamlike Romance

Image: Funimation Films

Appreciate OCs

Before I remake this blog, I got to get one thing off my chest. Appreciate and interact with original characters. Yeah, I know there are douchebag OCs who are overpowered or only want romantic ships, etc.. BUT DON’T LABEL THE MAJORITY BY THE MINORITY. Especially, if it’s a person you know who has a canon muse and is a nice mun. They aren’t going to change into a completely mean person just because they have an original character. 

As a person with quite a few original characters, lemme tell you: 

  • It takes time to get their personalities just right so they don’t come off as a mary sue/gary stu
  • If you have a female OC, good luck getting interactions because it’s 4x as hard for them [us]
  • It takes time to get a faceclaim that works just right OR if you draw your characters you will be forever in icon hell. 
  • And once you get that faceclaim. The manga/comic/anime caps can take DAYS if you are doing them by hand. Then you have to resize them, color them, put overlays on theM.
  • A LOT of times your faceclaim doesn’t have renders so you gotta do that yourself and design a flipping background for a container so you look “cool” because some reason you will be overlooked just because you don’t have it [WHICH SHOULD CHANGE!]
  • Backstory. Backstory. Backstory. It takes days of research to come up with this stuff and if you are building a world…holy guacamole. Some people draw maps, do languages, and even draw EVERYTHING. 


So. PLEASE. Respect original characters. Try interacting with them. If you’ve had a bad experience, I understand. But if it’s a person you’ve interacted with before [as in canon muses] then please try to interact with their OCs at least. Maybe expand your horizons after. Trust me there are so many fun OCs out there with the sweetest muns who deserve love and respect. 


An OC creator

helathegoddessofdeath  asked:

Imagine The Losers Club as the most dysfunctional superhero team

ok but listen i Love this so much i could even write a fic for this au
have some headcanons about their abilities;

Bill: Telekinesis. Bill can move litterally anything he wants with his mind. at first it was little stuff like a pen or a paper sheet, but the more he grown up, the bigger his power became. he’ll soon discover his abilities are, in fact, related to his emotions, and the stronger the emotions he will feel will be, the bigger the objets he will be able to move will get, even people.
“no Stan, I won’t l-l-let you move. You’ll come with us and save this f-f-fucking city.”

Richie: Invisibility. Richie can render himself unseen by everyone and do whatever he wants without being seen. he keeps using his power on bad purposes like to annoy the other members of the team and scaring them all the time, or to steals stuff
”oooOOOOooh i’m the ghost of Eddie’s underpant, flying through the house!!!”

Stan: Telepathy. Stan can read people’s mind, but also affect their minds/thoughts. It started with terrible headaches, then he started hearing voices that werent his (the poor boy was terrified).
Now he has learn how to control his power and can choose to hear only one person’s thoughts at once
”….I wish I didn’t hear what you were thinking about, Richie. You’re so gross…..”

Eddie: Healing factor. Just by touching someone’s injury, Eddie can heal it and take all of their pain. Unfortunately, it’s only working on other people, but not on himself. He discovered his powers by touching a bird which couldn’t fly, and flew away as soon as his hand touched it.
”Could you stop hurting yourself on purpose all the fucking time to see if my power still works?? Of course it still works!!”

Mike: Fire Manipulation. Mike can create, shape and manipulate fire with his hands. Like the other members of his team, he couldn’t control his power, and everytime he would have a strong (negative) emotion, he would create fire. Unfortunately, his power was also the cause of many incendies, inclunding his own house…
”If you tell me one more time “hot damn” I swear to god…”

Ben: Enhanced Strength. Ben can lift approximately 10 tons with his hands,  he can crush, lift, throw, or catch items of great weight without hurting himself. Like most members of the team, Ben’s abilities gets stronger when he gets a negative feeling, especially anger or sadness. Scared to hurt people, Ben can’t touch anyone until he will be able to have a better control of his own strenght
”I’ve already told you; I won’t carry all your bikes in my arms because you guys don’t want to ride them home…”

Beverly: Plants manipulation.  Beverly can create, shape and manipulate plants, including trees, vines, flowers, but also part of the plants (leaves/fruits). She can also revive withered or dead plants just by touching them with her hands, make them grown flowers, fruits.  yea… kinda like Poison Ivy!
The other members of the team love her power, she’s also the one who made them their “secret base” as they’re calling it; a cabin on a tree

Tossing in my 2cents for humans are space orcs

For time immemorial, sector df-17 of the galaxy had been used as an industrial waste dump, for want of a better term. Gravity distortions had filled it with an exorbitant amount of random debris, choking clouds of toxic dust and the whole area was bathed in lethal radiation that rendered all forms of long distance communications uselessly scrambled . The common name of the area translated as dead zone, wasteland, or the boonies. A hundred different worlds would bring their derelict ships here, ships too worthless to bother with, or considered too dangerous to strip down and salvage. They brought them here and cast them into the wastes.

It should be noted, that “worthless” and “Too dangerous” are terms relative to the scale of an operation, as well as one’s rationality and desperation. What makes for a poor or pointless company’s bottom line, is more than enough to keep a small salvage ship running, with a crew that’s well fed. Salvaging ships from the wastes was not illegal per se, but was seen as distasteful, dirty, and a living for those with few to no other options.

Kurthar’s ship was weeks deeper into the wastes than they had ever been. Pickings had been slim this run, and xe was worried if they’d gather enough trade goods to even refuel. Ran-gee, the communications and sensor operator had shut down most of the ship in an attempt to reduce interference and extend their scanner range. Xis personal communicator crackled as Ran-gee called out.

“Hey, Kurthar. I think I’m picking something up. Come have a look.” Kurthar ran a clawed hand over his skull frill in a subconscious gesture of hiding his concerns. It was a short walk to the bridge where Ran-gee squinted into the glowing monitor. “It’s so distorted that I thought it was glitch, or interference of some kind… but its a hot reactor, that’s for sure. Really, insanely hot. I’d argue that someone peeled the shielding away and left it just on the edge of critical. Why anyone would do that is beyond me.”
“Someone laying a trap ship out here seems like a stretch, but it’s possible. Or it had some biological contamination that they left the core exposed with the hope of killing it off.”
“The radiation levels should do that nicely.” Ran-gee leaned forward, quickly making adjustments. “It’s moving.”
“Moving moving. Like it’s under power moving.”
Kurthar paled, “Someone is flying it? Is there a distress beacon? Maybe they had a failure and are trying to limp to port.”
“This far out? It would be a damn desperate move.”
“I’d do it if I had no other choice. Hope they can treat the poisoning later.”
“I guess. But there’s no beacon. And…” Xe tried to resolve the scanner results. “The reactor signature looks like its Trath, but the drive reads N’gthy.”
“It must be interference. The N’gthy have no business with the Trath. Not in a million eons.”
“I’ve rechecked it twice. Also… there seems to be some dust haze around it that looks like its reflecting Gamma radiation.”
“Is it a weapon of some kind?”
“They’d be firing a Gamma beam of like 130 petawatts at nothing. And not just a burst, this is a continuous beam.”
“What in the great egg would do that?”
“ If we stay here too much longer, we’ll find out. It’s 4 causal seconds out, and approaching fast. I for one don’t think we should be anywhere near it’s back-end after it passes.”
“Spin up the engines, and move us to a safe distance.”
“I don’t think there’s a safe place in this sector.” Ran-gee said, swiftly moving to activate the drive systems.
The scanner unit chimed an alert.

They both turned in dawning horror to see that some kind of radio signal was suddenly focused on them. A quick repeating ping.
The strange ship was altering course toward them.
Their heads swung in unison as the Communications console on the other side of the bridge also chimed its own alert.
“it’s trying to contact us.” Ran-gee moved to the com panel. “The Identifier says its Iderant.”
“All of the Iderant died in the old wars ages ago.”
“Maybe there were some hiding out here?”
“I guess we are about to find out.” Kurthar said, as Xe opened the channel. The face that appeared on the screen was… disquieting. Snoutless, flat. Some raised, bulbus structure in the center of what must have been its face. It was scaleless, and a greyish pink color, as if it had been burned and had its skin removed. It sprouted some kind of growth from the crown of its skull, like a brown moss. It opened what must have been its thin, round, tiny mouth and bared its teeth in a show of aggression. The screen froze, and alarm klaxons began sounding from nearly every ship system. The drive system went into emergency shutdown, forcing the reactor into standby mode.
Ran-gee was trying to make sense of it. “The ship is outputting some kind of defense screen around it. It generating some kind of pulsing wave of gravity distortions, and a magnetic field that forcing our systems into triggering their safety protocols. Its scrambling the main processor, and radiation levels are high enough that the core thinks there has been a breach.”
A ship so wrong in so many ways, that even nearby vessels would lock up in panic. A ship that seemed to have been stitched together from trash, insanity, and nightmares. A ship filled with snarling, scaleless monsters.
Kurthar could only look on helplessly as it moved into position to dock with him, the door responding to a hail from what it believed to be one of its own kind.

This was how the Nuklan met what called its self the Human race. A race that after throwing itself into space atop giant explosions, had found the void riddled with relics and artifacts. They had taken everything they had found apart, and learned from it, or used it. Often repurposing simple devices with complex and insane new uses. One of these was how the E.S.S Clark, The ship which so confused, and frightened Kurthar, had repurposed simple gravity units into containment for its drive core. A small, artificially constructed quantum singularity.

The worlds had to be cautious. If a human even saw an image of some technology unknown to them, or worse yet got to touch it, the humans would have their own version of it in less than a cycle.

They had a nickname for the humans. These reckless, naïve beasts from the junkyard. Creatures that would build a black hole out of spare parts, strap it to a pile of trash, and take it out for a spin. They were named for a small pest animal that would frequently cause headaches by evading traps, and cleverly thwarting attempts to keep them away from refuse.

Roughly translated, Humans are the Trash Pandas of the galaxy.

The Hidden Insecurities of Each MBTI Types


INTPs derive most pleasure from solitary activities such as research and acts of creativity. Their minds are always bubbling with ideas and  random sometimes hilarious cogitations. INTPs know that if someone were to glimpse the amusing contents of their thoughts it would be clear why they are so absorbed with their inner world.

They do not particularly concern themselves with what people think of them but on some level they do realize that their penchant for being reserved and detached can lead other more extroverted types to assume they are boring, dumb, or arrogant. INTPs are sometimes torn between doubling down on their defiance of social paradigms or coming out of their shell to impress everyone with how witty and funny they can be. INTPs generally don’t feel the need to prove how interesting they are to anyone; it is enough that they know it. But when they sense they are being underestimated or labelled as dull, they may be compelled to unveil some of the brilliance they keep to themselves.


ENTPs thrive on engaging in animated debates where they can flex their litigious wit. In the process, they can cultivate the reputation of a quarrelsome troll who will indulge in frivolous arguments just for the hell of it.

Others may quickly learn to avoid messing with ENTPs because of their skill with mordant retorts. ENTPs may sometimes be concerned if those even in their inner circle truly value their friendship. They want to be entertaining and amusing to others and they spend a lot of time trying to be charming and clever conversationalists. They can seem very airy and impersonal but they still desire deep and meaningful connections with people.


INTJs are not known for being soft emotional sponges nor would they want to be. Part of this is due to their disapproval of maudlin displays of sentimentality viewing it as a sign of weakness.

Having a bleeding heart does not jibe with the INTJ’s self-image, which in their mind would resemble a pillar of stoic strength built with the blocks of empirical truth. INTJs prize their independence and their sense of agency and self-sufficiency. Despite their phlegmatic demeanor, INTJs do experience a flux of emotions that threaten to destabilize their temperament, potentially sending them into fits of rage or into the pits of depression. They actively suppress the expression of these feelings choosing instead to examine their meaning intellectually. The realm of emotions is to them a messy and troublesome affair and INTJs fear baring too much of their soul at the altar of public scrutiny.


ENTJs are statistically the highest earning of all the personality types; a figure they would undoubtedly take pride in. They are enterprising and always casting their radar out into the ethosphere scanning for new horizons to explore. They are naturally competitive and know that there are always competitors who threaten to snap up an idea or opening before they can.

This is a source of stress for them and something they endeavor to mitigate by optimizing and refining their senses and ability to capitalize on good bets before others can. They can be so busy thinking ahead of the curve, that they overlook unexpected windows of opportunity that suddenly appear in the here-and-now. Being the ambitious high achievers they are, they would not want to miss out on valuable options just because they were too singularly focused on their predefined plans.


INFPs don’t like getting burned but at some point in their lives, it’s bound to happen. When it does, the lesson can have lasting impact on future relationships making them more guarded and harder to get to know well. They can become very suspicious and distrustful of other’s motives for fear of being taken advantage of or betrayed again.Luckier INFPs may never experience the need to develop an emotional coat of armor but for many, it is essential for protecting their psychological balance. People who want to get past an INFP’s emotional barriers will likely first have to pass the battery of ‘character’ tests which the INFP administers through furtive observation of their subject over time.


Though often very talented, ENFPs at their heart may harbor some insecurities that they attempt to alleviate through achievement. Earning status, fame and recognition in the world may serve as tokens of validation for them and they pursue this end with charismatic chutzpah.

They accentuate their quirkiness and creativity like a peacock displaying it’s plumage. They contribute to the world through their unusual yet valuable and often spiritual insight. It would put a damper on their self esteem if they were viewed as typical or commonplace. They would like to fancy themselves as more than just another crab in the barrel but at the same time desire to uplift and inspire others.


For all their noble qualities, INFJs are apt to develop a persecution complex in response to criticism leveled against them. Their sensitivity to criticism and conflict can easily render them feeling victimized and beleaguered by others who disagree with their ideas or beliefs.  

In asserting their ideas they sometimes feel their back is against the wall as they contend with what they view as unfair treatment or willful misconstructions of their arguments by opponents. By their estimate, most of the problems INFJs face stem from a failure by others to properly understand them or simply a depravity of good ethical principles on their part. INFJs are inclined to cry foul when they sense the playing field is not level and often, the causes they take up are centered around equalizing it.


ENFJs may have the noblest of intentions but their lofty ideals can sometimes set them up for failure. Their desire to be everything to everyone leads them to become charismatic and popular moral leaders but sometimes come across as glib and disingenuous as well.

The effort to maintain the pristine saintly image they have built up can force them to conceal or deny the human flaws they share along with the rest of us. They fear disappointing other’s expectations of them or their idea of what others should expect of them. They want to be a belweather and shining example of decency and likability. ENFJs fear becoming a pariah and being cutoff from the social main and they can be quite officious in their effort to gin up their popularity and esteem within their community.


ISFJs want to help others and derive much of their self-worth from how vital a role they can serve in this regard. They feel most secure when they are dutifully fulfilling a support function upon which others depend.

But like a crack dealer, they may go so far as to stimulate this dependence in others by monopolizing their role such that no else may be allowed to conduct it for themselves. In order to satisfy their own need to feel needed they may attempt to make themselves indispensable by performing tasks to such a high degree and standard that others would feel loathe or unwilling to match it. It would be heart-breaking for them to feel that no one truly appreciated or needed them for anything.


ESFJs will go to great lengths to please those around them, sometimes doing too much and annoying others in the process. This is because they want to be appreciated and valued by others and will make gestures to engender gratitude from them.

They may occasionally feel their place in the hearts of others unjustly threatened by someone or something and they may engage in not-so-subtle attempts at winning favor with them. They may particularly engage in shameless self promotion making exaggerated claims about their abilities and qualities. Within a group, they may become stressed out as they are pulled in a million different directions, attempting to please everyone while also becoming extremely sensitive to others’ opinions of them. They are extremely concerned with being accepted and feeling liked.


ISTJs are tradition-minded empiricists who look to be a firm and responsible figure in both their personal and professional circles. They seek to position themselves in a place of authority where they can make decisions and assert control.

In order to justify this, they make an effort to maintain an image of high standards, and ethic. They want to be seen as diligent and dutiful and will cultivate this image even to the point of appearing self-righteous and sanctimonious. They will seek respect from their subordinates even if they have to demand it sometimes resorting to dictatorial means. ISTJs may be very fair but strict and disciplined. They view their conservative temperament as essential to being taken seriously as an object of authority and repute.


ESTJs usually look to their experience and history to guide them in their decisions and methods. They focus on facts and data and value tradition and customs but they also have ideas of their own although they may not always be confident enough to rely on them.

ESTJs do not like being seen as unoriginal  and unimaginative and will at times try to convey an openness to new ideas and possibilities whether put forward by themselves or others. Of course, it would be ideal if they could take as much credit as possible for the ideas that really work. Their sense of pride and self empowerment compels them to occasionally venture outside of their comfort zone when necessary and be more inventive.


ISFPs have no desire to control other people and simply want to be free to be who they are. They want to express themselves and their unique creativity authentically and unadulterated by arbitrary social constrictions.

A rigid, stifling environment is terrifying to this type. They are insecure about feeling imposed upon or beholden to others particularly within a power structure or hierarchy. They fancy themselves as free spirits owned by no one. They do not like feeling common and lowly and crave the freedom to express themselves like the rest of us crave water and air. This type needs to go out into the world and explore, discover and create without limitations, in order to feel like themselves.  They fear having their self-expression limited in any way.


ESFPs live to perform, entertain and excite those around them. The spotlight is where they thrive and their idea of horror is a world in which nobody finds them interesting or entertaining. They live to explore people possibilities and the idea of those possibilities disappearing truly scares them. They want to be popular and well-liked and will often blend in to their environment to do so. ESFPs take special interest in their appearance and social image and are very aware of how they are perceived by others. They enjoy being the epicenter of attention and try to gin up excitement when they come around. They also dislike being seen as unintelligent and will take that very offensively. Just because the ESFP enjoys having fun, does not mean they are not intelligent.


ISTPs  cognitive style lends itself to a more tactile approach to education. They are statistically one of the least academically inclined personality types because classroom settings and literature-based curriculum don’t stimulate or cater to their way of learning. The ISTP lives to understand the world in a direct, concrete fashion. They learn by tinkering, testing, experimenting and meddling. A world in which they are expected to blindly accept how things work is a world that they don’t want to live in. The ISTP needs to get their hands dirty in life – and being held back from doing so is a truly terrifying thought.


ESTPs are often attention seekers who would be malcontent in a modest life of obscurity. They want to be somebody and can be very ego-centric and arrogant in their pursuit of prestige, adulation and acclaim.

Their actions are often calibrated to achieve this end and their means may range from low brow prat-falls and slap stick-humor to prodigious accomplishments in the realm of academics and business. They fear the prospect of failure and being a disappointment in the eyes of others perhaps especially those of a parental figure. At the same time, it may be that they predicate their personal value on material expressions of value such as expensive property, accolades and titles of rank.

From a Twitter thread about Nazis and memes.
  • First furry nazis. Now trans nazis. Is there a thing like Rule 34, except instead of porn, it’s Nazi versions of everything? Bcos fuck that
  • Mind you, Nazis have ALWAYS tried to wholesale steal from and recruit from subcultures.
  • See skinheads. They took that subculture’s whole look and sound and rendered it so toxic that skinhead became synonymous with Nazi and many, despite the best efforts of SHARP and communist skinheads, had to abandon the look lest people think they were Nazis.
  • More recently they’ve been stealing the look, attitude, and protest tactics of the far left/anarchists.
  • Guess that’s what you have to do when you’re so bereft of the ability to create anything.
  • They even stole fucking Pepe, whose creator then had to fucking kill him off.
  • They say Pepe’s the symbol of their movement. And it’s fitting, bcos it’s a perfect example of them stealing bcos they simply CAN’T create.
  • Every time you see Pepe, you should be reminded of their lack of original thought and their thievery.
  • Even the swastika, previously a symbol of good fortune was stolen and rendered toxic. That’s all they do. They steal, and steal, and steal.
  • They stole the gold fillings from the teeth of those they murdered.
  • Maybe that’s why they love memes and snowclones so much. I mean, absolutely minimal creative input required, innit.
  • I mean, everyone loves memes, but these fucks, they have nothing BUT memes. Zero original content.
  • And no, you don’t get to separate yourselves from historical Nazis because you’re LITERALLY USING THE SAME ICONOGRAPHY
  • You fly a modified Nazi battle flag, you’re gonna get called a nazi, and we’re gonna directly associate you with the genocidal fucks.
  • Anyone using Pepe, anyone flying the ’kekistan’ flag, you’re a nazi. All of you. And history has already judged you.

(Source: https://twitter.com/ThatSabineGirl/status/884589910447050752)

So I’m going to attempt to answer the question I’ve been asking for the last day: “WHO IS SHE RANDY?”

Brief recap: At GDC, Gearbox presented a tech test demo to show how Unreal 4 will affect lighting, shadows, and the art style overall in Borderlands 3. It specifically addresses a lot of things in the art style that I’ve wanted to see addressed for a long time, and I’m really happy with the way the game is looking. In it, they used a “development resource” character model, one we’ve never seen before, whose face they deliberately obscure. Randy Pitchford specifically draws attention to this fact.

You can watch that here:

So… who is she, Randy?

Obviously the first answer is: “It’s just a development asset, no one in particular.” I’ve seen a lot of tech demos like this, and when the devs aren’t using characters from their upcoming game, they either use:

  • a character model from the last game (who this clearly isn’t)
  • a character designed briefly in a game’s CC (which Borderlands doesn’t have)
  • a silly-looking character specifically made for testing purposes/to be funny (which this isn’t)
  • a blank slate (either something you’d see as a default in a CC or something that’s missing textures, which, again, this isn’t)

So in all likelihood… this is a WIP design for a character in Borderlands 3. Judging by the pose, this is very likely to be a new Vault Hunter (I say this because Vault Hunters’ rest animations tend to look somewhat heroic, like this characters’, while NPCs’ rest poses look far less asymmetrical).

They show a gas station-looking thing in the trailer, which is rendered in the Borderlands art style, and Randy implies that they will likely be used in BL3′s game world. If those are going to make it into the game, why wouldn’t this character design that seems very well-made.

At the start of the video, I was fully expecting them to just re-use a character from BL2. I was expecting to see Axton or somebody. That would’ve been a pretty normal move, I mean devs do it all the time for these tech demos. But they didn’t.

So, now, here’s the second answer to this question: “She’s a new character, one of the new Vault Hunters in BL3.” I’d say there’s a good chance of that. I’m about 50/50 on this. I say there’s a good chance of this not being her final design, but as it stands, I think this most likely will be the new soldier-type class in BL3, akin to Roland, Axton, and Athena.

“But why hide her face?” Well, they don’t want to outright confirm that she’s a new character yet. Showing a character’s full design–especially the face–is a Big Move for developers. It’s VERY likely that her design isn’t done yet, not only in the armor, but in the face as well.

But still… the question remains, “why hide her face?”

Let’s take another look at her:

I see the choppy straw-blonde hair and immediately think, Janey Springs. But Janey isn’t a soldier, and this character doesn’t have Janey’s scars on her arms.

Second thought, then, is “Janey’s daughter,” which would make sense: This certainly looks like someone who would’ve been raised by Janey and Athena. But after the way BL2 ended… I don’t think they would do a timeskip that far into the future.

But what are Borderlands timeskips like?

There were, if I remember correctly, roughly five or six years between Borderlands 1 and Borderlands 2.

And who else do we know in Borderlands, specifically in Borderlands 2, who has choppy straw-blonde hair?

So, put on your tin-foil hats as we arrive at answer #3: “This is a grown-up Tiny Tina.”

Let’s say there’s another five or six year gap. Tina was 13 in Borderlands 2, that would make her 18 or 19 for Borderlands 3.

But, okay, I hear what you’re saying: “So she’s got similar hair, so what?” And, yeah. I agree.

But here’s the most damning piece of evidence:

Character artists like to assign parallels to character designs as they age, to show that they’re the same character despite how much has changed. It’s sometimes silly, but it works, and it helps keep the character feeling consistent. This soldier getup is a MASSIVE change from Tina’s BL2 design, I’ll give you that. However…

Their belts, for comparison:

It’s a silly, probably minor, probably meaningless thing. Tina had a pouch on the back of her waist with a knife stored in it, this character has a pouch on the back of her waist with a knife stored in it. That could be the world’s biggest coincidence.

This character’s even missing Tina’s trademark bunny. It’s nowhere to be seen.

Like I said, I’m still 50/50 on it being a new character, but… hey, I dunno. The character design VERY LIKELY isn’t final. Things like the star on her shoulder armor might be temporary.

And, perhaps more than anything, it makes a hell of a lot of sense to me that Tina would want to grow up to dress like Roland.

Tiny Tina reference model credit: DrySockett on DeviantArt.

anonymous asked:

is there any information u would consider relevant to know for the wonderwoman movie?

i’m not going to assume too many (and sometimes obvious) specifics because the movie may have chosen to interpret them differently to fit the overall universe and i don’t want to confuse you further, but some of the things i don’t think will change substantially:

  • *the DCEU version of wonder woman is apparently following her new 52 origins which means that, unlike her pre-flashpoint origins where she was made out of clay, here she’s the daughter of the olympian god zeus and the queen of amazons hippolyta. that makes her a demi-god and explains her ability to still kick around in the modern timeline
  • her lasso of truth has the ability to not only make you speak the truth but see it yourself, understand and sometimes accept it too, effectively rendering bad guys useless if they have a conscience. it was made by the god hephaestus and it’s completely indestructible
  • diana’s iconic bracelets are actually steel cuffs that all amazons wear as a reminder of the time they were enslaved by hercules to show they remember and won’t ever be subjected to such or any oppression ever again. it’s occassionally been said that diana’s, specifically, are made out of part of zeus’s shield and/or that they have the abilitiy to contain her true power so she doesn’t completely wreck her opponents. it’s why we sometimes see her in the comics take them off if the danger is too high and she needs to end the threat immediately
  • she has a myriad of powers than can even rival superman’s, and they were primarly given to her by the ancient greek gods who are patrons to the amazons and paradise island/themyscira (the ones that aren’t complete dicks, anyway)
  • steve trevor is considered to be the link between the amazons and man’s world because he was the first one to, after a very long time, show up on paradise island, largely later helping diana settle in our world. it also helped that he wasn’t a douchebag so thank you steve
  • let me make clear that the amazons had absolutely no intentions of interacting with man’s world ever again since hercules and his men had completely broken their trust by pretending to come in peace and then subjugating them. they consider us lost, dangerous and to be disregarded. queen hippolyta continued being weary even after diana proved that we might not suck so bad
  • she’s funny. unintentionally at first because she had no idea how anything here worked, but later too, because she’s too clever not to pick up some good puns along the way
  • she’s kind and gentle but she values truth above all else so she will sometimes go to extremes to get it if it’s important
  • she’s (and will be in the films too) a founding member of the justice league which means she had to deal with batman from day one and yet she’s kept her sanity. that’s like… a plus ten in my book
  • a p p r e c i a t e   e t t a   c a n d y

*edit: some of you are making some fair points that the trailer more or less proves she will have her clay/non-flesh and blood origins that i misinterpreted from not remembering the trailer correctly. so there’s that :)


13x06 “Tombstone”
Of Wings and Winchesters

I have to say the ending scene of the episode was probably the one to make abundantly clear that (and I know it’s been emphasized before in the episodes prior how Jack is paralleling with Sam, Dean and Castiel alike) Jack already is a Winchester. Not only made him Dean part of “Team Free Will 2.0″ which is an honor all by itself, but Jack’s identity crisis and fear of hurting the ones he loves and for that reason decides to keep his distance is probably THE action/decision to truly render him one of them, after all all of them - Sam after his demon blood addiction, Castiel in purgatory and Dean after the Gadreel fall out - deemed it better at one point in time to walk aay from the people they cared about most, because they were afraid to hurt them, pull them down or “poison” them.

Furthermore, and of course we already knew that Jack could teleport, but we never actually heard the “swooshing” noise of angel wings (which Jack seems to have given the sound cue - which works nicely in opposition to Castiel) and I did enjoy how they introduced and foreshadowed how Jack would disappear just moments later in the first gif, because the way this short was framed, the lights behind Jack already give him wings. So that was pretty neat in an otherwise way too overcrowded and uneven episode.


Process gifs!! Because it was frequently asked, here it is finally!

My process is fairly straightforward, I always follow the same routine, I think it’s good to keep good habits in doing landscapes or else it’s too easy to get overwhelmed by all the different parts, layers and details etc…Gotta keep it simple~~

    - 1. First I always begin with doing tons of  thumbnails (less than 300 pixels each). Once I get an idea, I don’t jump directly into making the painting, nah I take my time laying my ideas on tiny thumbnails. Those are fast to make and will save me so much time in the long run. I try different views, try different colors, atmosphere, composition etc I’m just fooling around really, and at the end, there’s always one that will speak more to me.

   - 2. After choosing one thumbnail, I take few seconds to think how I will build up my painting, how I will place each components, how I will ‘layer’ it all. It’s good to have a plan and stay organized I think. It’s the color blocking time!!

As you can see in my process, I like to begin with the farthest object, and then little by little I make my way forward. Most of the time, the sky is the farthest object, so I begin with it. Then I add a new layer on top of the sky and place the stars for example. And then a new layer on top and I place the clouds. And so on and on, I build it up little by little. (even when I work on just one layer, I follow this process, it’s easier to touch up the background if something is amiss before adding the foreground and details)

  For this part, I don’t go into details yet, I just place my composition, I decide of the local colors, I use a big big brush, it’s really rough, but it’s a really important part. Once the big shapes are into place, once the balance looks good to me and the colors and values are alright, I can finally go to the next step.

   -3. Time to decide, where I want my light to come from, and so my shadows. Yeah nothing to explain here ^^’

   -4. Once I know my light and shadows, I start rendering, I go back to my color block layers, and add the details on them., I defines the shapes, add new things etc … I readjust colors to my liking, trying to fit the mood I’m aiming for. And really that’s it, it is the longest part.

We all are different, we all have our own preferences, there isn’t a ‘right’ method, we just need to find what we are confortable with, here is just my way of doing landscapes, hope it can help!  have a good day ❤❤

dopejellyfishstudentthings  asked:

Since the Eldest Curses is an adult series I doubt that my parents would get the books for me anytime soon !so I was wondering if my lack of knowledge (about the trilogy ) would mean that I wouldn't exactly understand the happenings of TDA,TLH and TWP. Will I miss out on alot ? Thxx

No. We're very aware that some teens won’t be able to read an “adult” series (though it’s no racier than plenty of adult books that cross over to young adult audiences, the characters do have sex.) Therefore anything in it that’s immensely significant to the overall plot of the Shadowhunter books will simply be mentioned in TDA or TWP. It’s not as if Magnus and Alec aren’t also in those.

Mostly TEC is about spending more time with Magnus and Alec, deepening our knowledge of them as characters, and enjoying adventures with them. Remember that both the first and second books of TEC take place before the beginning of TDA and you will already have read 2/3 of TDA when you read them. If you have understood TDA so far, is it likely you’ll stop understanding it because TEC got published? 

You can read TID without TMI, TDA without TID. All the Chronicles interlock but none render other series incomprehensible. People read TDA without TMI and understand it fine. I do think reading them all deepens understanding and enjoyment but it isn’t required.

(I hope your parents don’t keep you away from everything in the “adult” section since that’s just the “fiction” section. Jane Eyre, Lord of the Rings, Catch-22 – half my favorite books when I was a teen were technically “adult”!)

sneak peak of i’m not ashamed

SCENE ONE: long haired Rachel holds an fruit longingly while Token Goth Girl in a Christian Movie twaddles her fingers. They all have apples and nothing else. Just apples at this table. And everyone looks miserable.

OwO what’s this? She looks to the side and sees Rat Boy, Dildo Ebola, eating an orange. That’s the orange table, Rachel. We’re the apple table. We don’t associate with them. Why are they eating so much fruit? Why is he looking at her like that? Why is he looking at her at all? Why does he care?


fLUSTERED dylan suddenly turns to his orange

Yes… orange, very peely and orange. he is looking for anything to distract him from his boring red-shirted friend, who is staring lustfully at an apple, a probable symbolism of the girls at the Apple Table . 

“get rid of all the fat ugly retarted gross stupid weird nerd star wars fans old people nickelback fans bronies twihards people that arent i eric har” wAIT, this red shirted, hairy-armed chap must be Eric Hairless! Wonderful. He has a glass of apple juice, and an apple. What a rebellious choice from someone outside the Apple Table. Must symbolize what will happen to the people at the Apple Table. Eric you cruel monster….. you devil…. I cant even look at him and his ham sandwich. 

Dildo and random guy who i’m assuming is some sort of Brooks Brown character look at ranting child Eric with distaste. Is he done? Will he ever be done? Seems, upon closer inspection, Dylan is the only one eating an orange. Is every table the Apple Table? Does this symbolize how Dildo Memaw had no sense of belonging in the world? What the everloving fuck is Brooks Brown Guy wearing? 1950′s Grandpa pajamas? That’s not grunge at all. We have our first glance at the pristine white hats in the background. Our eric finishes his rant and looks at Dildo for validation. W-Was it cool, Dylan-senpai? OwO?

“y-yeah.” He stutters. Oh god. I can just smell Dave Cullen. What the fuck is he wearing??? Is that some kind of bondage harness? Or it could be just a keycard or something but to what? Weird design to it also.

Eric, finding validation in the y-yeah, continues on with his rant, looking up from his beloved apple to his gay lover. “Nobody is deserving of this planet,” he says “just me and who i chose.” FUNNY because I think i remember the quote being “Give the world back to the animals, they deserve it more than we do,” but of course they had to satan it up so people hated him more.

“send them all up to space”

“dude we can’t send them to space”

TWO trenchcoated figures appear in the background! We weren’t looking at Dylan and Eric the entire time! These inaccuracies weren’t actually inaccuracies. Thank you Dave. But they are. 

“look at these F AR T K N O CK ERS!!!”

alright, i’ll admit i lost my s h i t when he said that. Whhhhat? is that a slang for gay… because like, anal? Probably not. Probably a Christian censored version of ‘fag’ or something. So… it could be? I don’t know. It’s easier not to think about it….. they never said it…………………………………… they never said it….

“what’s up? F O U R E YE S” he pushes the trenchcoated chap into a table. 

He kinda just nudges him into the table, but he flies across the table, knocking everything over, breaking his spine and rendering him immobile for the rest of his life. Not really. But i’m sure Dave asked. By the way, yes, I’m sure Dave Cullen is involved with this movie. He can call me a dirtbag, but I know.

he gets up?

and falls to the ground, his trenchcoat goth friends dragging him away as Jock Stud over there kicks him. He has been rendered immobile for some reason. Everyone watches, amused. This always happens at 12:00. Same time every morning. It’s a spectacle.

come on bro, we gotta be gay somewhere else…. these heterosexuals don’t accept us.”


thanks, jock? is that even an insult? thanks for the motivation,

The jocks laugh in triumph, they have belittled another Goth. They’re so fucking cool, and they know it. There are many ways to wear a white hat, but they’re all wearing it at a 90 degree angle, pristine white like they soak them in bleach before they go to school, and backwards. 

they have this really long pan on this black kid. Eric’s face is wrinkled in distaste. I think this is the moment trying to signify that Eric is racist because he’s looking at the black bully distastefully. Alright, Christian Movie. Thanks for that.

Rachel giving the Lanza Stare™ to the Jocks. 

Who is this and why are him and Rachel making intimate eye contact? He looks like Dennis the Menace. Like who the fuck is this supposed to be. Also what shampoo does that other jock guy use? Damn


What I’m assuming is he’s one of Rachel’s friends that is trying to relapse and recover from his Jock Asshole ways but he can’t seem to quit. Rachel reminds him and he feels shame.

Back to the Sin Table, Dylan looks expectantly at Eric as he continues peeling his fucking orange. He expects him to be like I DONT CARE WHAT YOU SAY IF YOU EVER TOUCH HIM AGAIN ILL FRICKIN KILL YOU ILL PULL OUT A GODDAMN SHOTGUN AND BLOW YOUR DAMN HEAD OFF DO YOU UNDERSTAND YOU LITTLE WORTHLESS PIECE OF CRAAAAHP but no, sadly, because that is not Eric’s true colors. That is his mobster alter-ego, Reb.

He looks like a thirty year old christian youth leader that’s newly married with a baby on the way. But he looks angry also… i guess?? I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.

he violently bangs his apple on the table. Damn, does he want to bang someone from the Apple Table on the table?/?/????? Where does his violence end

ooh dam, it got a broose. Also he’s fucking shredded. Why.

-the scene fades to black-

The Coldest Night in Hawkins

Summary: February 1985 brings an awful chill, and not everyone in Hawkins is prepared for the cold. 

(Cue Jopper, Joyce being the mom Jane always needed, and Byers-Hopper family fluff)

At exactly 11:38 p.m., Joyce Byers’ doorbell rang.

She remembered the time because she’d been staring at the flickering red digits of her alarm clock and willing herself to fall asleep, closing her eyelids only to feel the electric shock of nightmares lurking in the darkness. Will had gone to bed an hour ago, Jonathan was – at the very least – in his room, and she had a long day of work at Melvald’s tomorrow that would only get longer if she didn’t fall asleep right this goddamn second and –


Joyce froze, muscles tightening against the worn, threadbare sheets that did only the bare minimum of work to keep her warm. She felt her heart starting to scream, thumping against her ribcage as she tried to figure out whether it was best to answer the bell’s shrill order or to let it go unfulfilled. Faint music drifted through the wall, which meant Jonathan was still in the house, and Will wasn’t the type to sneak out. Everyone in the Byers house was accounted for.

The house was quiet for a few moments, and Joyce let herself entertain the notion that whoever it was had gone away. Maybe it was someone selling something: though what they could be trying to get her to buy after 11:30 on a Thursday night – one of the coldest on record in Hawkins – she’d never know.


“Shit,” Joyce breathed against her pillowcase, slowly hauling herself up into a seated position. Her bare feet curled around soft carpet as she found her footing in the darkness, pulling on the blue robe she’d left hanging on the back of the bedroom door. February wasn’t a kind month to the town of Hawkins, and her plaid pajama pants and loose-fitting gray t-shirt would do nothing but allow the cold to seep under her skin.

When she opened her bedroom door and turned her head, she let out a cry of alarm: there was a large shadow looming at the end of the hallway.

“Mom, it’s me!” the shadow exclaimed.

“Jonathan,” Joyce breathed, relieved, shoving away shadowy memories of manlike monsters. It had been four months since she found a dead…thing….in her freezer, and even longer since a monster came bursting through the wall of her living room, but every night she felt as though she could be only seconds from it happening again.

“Go back to bed, honey,” she whispered, praying they were the only two members of the Byers family whom the doorbell had awoken.

“I’m trying to see if I can tell who it is,” Jonathan said, pointedly ignoring her request as he leaned as close to the window as he could without pressing his forehead against the glass. “It looks like…”

He trailed off, and Joyce frowned.

“Like who?” she asked.

It couldn’t be Nancy, or he would’ve been at the door already. It was unlikely the kids would be visiting this late – they’d radio Will, not show up on his doorstep. That left Steve Harrington and Jim. Neither were likely candidates for the doorbell-ringing: Jim was living with Jane in the double-wide for the time being since it had a working heater, and she doubted Steve would have any pressing matters that required their attention.

So the question remained: like who?

“Hopper,” Jonathan said, and she could hear a confused scowl in his voice. “I think that’s his car. But isn’t he-“

Joyce sprinted the hallway before Jonathan could ask her what she was doing.

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