How Do You Infinite Scroller Webcomic People DO IT

 Me: It’s 2017, no one wants to hear Gravity Falls meta

Also me: Stan never believed Gideon was an actual psychic—even though he knew supernatural things were possible, and even though everyone in Gravity Falls was against him, Stan always insisted he absolutely knew Gideon was a fraud.  Why was he so certain?

Gideon always called him “Stanford.” 

Anyone with real mind-reading powers would’ve known that was actually his brother’s name, and he was living under a false identity

Some words to use when writing things:

winking

clenching

pulsing

fluttering

contracting

twitching

sucking

quivering

pulsating

throbbing

beating

thumping

thudding

pounding

humming

palpitate

vibrate

grinding

crushing

hammering

lashing

knocking

driving

thrusting

pushing

force

injecting

filling

dilate

stretching

lingering

expanding

bouncing

reaming

elongate

enlarge

unfolding

yielding

sternly

firmly

tightly 

harshly

thoroughly

consistently

precision

accuracy

carefully

demanding

strictly

restriction

meticulously

scrupulously

rigorously

rim

edge

lip

circle

band

encircling

enclosing

surrounding

piercing

curl

lock

twist

coil

spiral

whorl

dip

wet

soak

madly

wildly

noisily

rowdily

rambunctiously

decadent

degenerate

immoral

indulgent

accept

take

invite

nook

indentation

niche

depression

indent

depress

delay

tossing

writhing

flailing

squirming

rolling

wriggling

wiggling

thrashing

struggling

grappling

striving

straining

Jjjjjjj~

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i remember being like 13/14 and starting to get REALLY pissed about capitalism and social inequality and corruption and all that stuff and the adults would be like “how sweet :) your rebellious phase :) you’ll get over it once you grow up and see how the REAL WORLD works :)” and guess what i did not get over it that WAS the real world and part of growing up is deciding if you’re going to give in and submit to it like all those adults around me did or if you’re going to stay fucking pissed

Anon Hate IS Illegal.

Guys, I’m not kidding.

Suicide-baiting, cyberharassmemt, cyberstalking, death/rape threats, and hate speech are illegal in all 50 states as well as Australia and the UK.

Some places include school suspension or expels. Some even include jail time for multiple years.

And yes, they can find someone by username or IP alone.

Also, yes. There are methods of catching someone’s IP. Even under a VPN.

So.

Next time you get hit with anon hate?

Casually remind them you can very easily take this to the next level. And they can earn jail time while you lay back in your chair, having saved yourself and everyone else from a violent criminal.

Your online actions have real life consequences.

Make sure they learn that.

(Just in case there’s a “the police wouldn’t do that” - Yes. They absolutely would.

Or a “I can handle it.” No. That person will continue to harass others as well. And one of them may not be as strong as you. So do it for them and everyone else.

Or a “It’s not that severe.” Yes. It is. People have died because of this. It really is that severe.)

Take action. And make sure the lives of these bullies are truly wrecked.

What do you mean this isn’t how it happened? (Has this been done already?) @hellsings-trump-card gave me the idea!

You know those anime meta posts along the lines of “I was born with pink hair. The doctors told my parents I was a Main Character and ever since my life has not known peace from demons/spirits/sports competitions/harems who find me”

Well I see that, and I raise you this:

An anime boy whose appearance is, by absolutely anyone’s account, completely and utterly average. Mundane hair. Mundane eyes. Not even glasses to set him the tiniest bit apart. A simple, unmemorable, unrecognizable civilian among a backdrop of millions.

And he has a lot of passions, and a lot of ambitions, which he hones every chance he gets. He’s dabbled in sports and archery and cooking and just about anything you could wrap a competition around. And he’s competed in many of these. Every chance he gets. With all of his passion and all of his might.

He’s crushed by the competition every single time.

Until one day–one day something clicks for him. Something that should have seemed obvious from the start and yet never was–as though everyone, including himself, was unwittingly blind to it. It clicks, when he realizes every kid who’s beaten him in competition, every kid who’s gone on to fame and glory and acclaim, has been some candy-haired gel-spiked ridiculously-dressed fucker. 

There’s some trend there that this Main Character boy can’t explain and can’t understand but he decides, this one time, fuck it. He’ll play along too. He’s got a model train competition in four days, and he’s got nothing more to lose. He hits up the department store, buys the pinkest, noxious-est, fruitiest hair dye he can find, the spikiest hair gel available, and the gaudiest clothes on the thrift rack. He enters the model train competition looking like a bubble gum gijinka.

And he wins.

Suddenly, the other candy-haired contestants notice him. They talk to him. They pledge rivalries. Girls notice him. Judges applaud him. Acclaimed model train aficionados offer him internships across the world. He’s hit on something. 

The main cast expands to cover just about every candy-hair cliche in the book: from the mostly-normal-looking demure school girl with the blue hair to the Naruto-est, yelling-est boy with the red-and-green spiked hair. The cool megane senpais, the purple haired tsunderes, suddenly everyone is interested in him. They’re prodigies and upstarts and underdogs and they truly believe that this main character boy is one of them.

So the main character boy maintains his ruse. He touches up his roots at dawn every morning and carefully attends to his gelled spikes and tells absolutely no one about this great, uncanny, unfathomable secret he’s stumbled upon. He wins his competitions left and right. He racks up the acclaim. He’s hailed as a prodigy of all trades, just now bursting onto the scene, and boils to the top of all his candy-haired peers.

He’s rising up, his every dream within his grasp. Until one day he gets a note under his door, taped to an old picture of his Normal Boring self from middle school, that says “You don’t belong”

I don’t know what I was expecting.. but it was NOT this

GUYS I’VE FOUND A VERY IMPORTANT WEBSITE FOR PEOPLE WHO CAN KNIT WITHOUT INJURING THEMSELVES!!!!