#i need to lock in ... for the sake of tumblr shitposting ...

[deathzgf]

Dear sir, i hope this ask finds you in good health and all that and if you’re still into amrev/frev could i pretty please hear about your essay on the similarities between saint-just and john laurens 🥺

if not, feel free to delete this ask!

your obedt. servant,

mizumech

first of all I AM SO SORRY FOR LETTING THIS ROT IN MY INBOX for. checks watch. gulps. Dont even worry about it kitten. anyways. i have been so excited to answer this ask ever since receiving it i do not know why i have been neglecting it so much

second of all this whole thing is like 99 . 9 % a joke between my good friend @toastytrusty & i + ridiculous stretches so dont expect anything too serious LMFAO

ok ramblings of a madman time yay

so the saintlaurens towers were first hit by the similarity planes back in late 2023 which prompted This Fuck Arse Venn Diagram

dont worry if you cant read it because i cant either . will try to decode what i can ft updated commentary to start off this yapfest though !

little fifteen year old me put in the saint - just set :

french

fatherless mdr

, in the laurens set :

numerous of his letters still intact ( * ?? i think i was blinded by my grief of sjs letters getting burnt when i wrote this because laurens certainly had his unfair share of lost letters )

american

present father

in a musical ( * im pretty sure sj is in a musical too ( Not les mis ) but i did not know this back in 2023 )

, & in the intersection :

( almost ) 27 at death

gay

autistic

mentally unwell

artist ( * to a certain extent ... side eyes sj )

in love with major revolutionary figure

military twink

almost lawyers

tried desperately to escape home town ( * its been so long i do not remember what i was referring to with tried " desperately " to escape home town with regards to sj )

" babe come home from the war i miss you "

enjolras tbh

gay trio ( couthon , robespierre , saint - just / la fayette , hamilton , laurens )

& honestly Yeah . Ok . Sure . no idea what i was cooking with some of these but

we also got

actually this might end up a compilation of various bullshit screenshots because i do not know how to collect and redistribute the sacred knowledge they hold in any better format

also flowers. something something john sunflower symbolism laurens something something louis antoine " florelle " saint - just

oh theres also The Fire

+ The Hand Thing

and Before you jump me gentle reminder once again that this is fun & games and i am well aware those are two incredibly different things & one is just made up for the hell of it but i like fire trucks and monster trucks i like to play & draw

anyways. theres also also their , as poetically put by toast , " lack of runtime "

theres also also ALSO their fuck arse gay arse letters

AND SOCIALISM !!!

& after scouring twitter & discord w key words i cannae find any more worth sharing nor anything to jog my memory enough but if i think of anything else i will update this with more silliness & if anyone thinks of anything else feel free to add :3

thank you for the ask !!! im so sorry again for taking so long & sorry if this is underwhelming AJLKFJDLKSJFK

[idk-where-im-going-but]

Touch That Warms The Heart

Thanks to @all-da-fandoms for the title and @spectralheartt for beta-ing y’all are awesome

Word count: 2241

Virgil has always had a problem with words.

All types of words—whether they’re on paper, in his head, or coming out of his mouth. When he writes, his words are incomprehensible even to himself. When he thinks, he does more harm than good (usually to himself), and when he speaks, he almost always sounds stupid.

So he mostly doesn’t write or speak (he can’t do much about the thinking problem) but, unsurprisingly, that can be a problem when humans—and sides—more often than not use words to communicate with each other. It’s really no wonder that Virgil is misunderstood constantly.

Sometimes, though, this is more than just a problem—it’s a fucking travesty.

——-

Virgil realized what he needed at two in the morning on a Saturday and it was absolutely Patton’s fault.

He was sitting on the left-most cushion of the couch, Patton immediately to his right with Logan and Roman next to him. Virgil was the only one awake, the others having fallen asleep hours ago, but his eyes were closed nonetheless. He’d surrendered himself to the fact that he would not be getting any sleep before morning, but there was no reason to keep his eyes open in a room without light, so he let them shut.

Virgil didn’t know if he’d been sitting there for 30 seconds, five minutes, or an hour when he felt something warm and heavy fall onto his right shoulder. His eyes snapped open immediately and he sucked in breath through his nose, turning to his shoulder. He wasn’t surprised to find Patton’s head resting there, snoring and smiling slightly.

Virgil sighed and closed his eyes once again, suddenly a bit drowsy and sleepy. It was then that he truly felt the weight on his shoulder and the heat that had begun seeping through his hoodie. It felt...nice, having someone so near. Really nice.

So when Patton shifted and his head fell onto Logan’s shoulder, Virgil felt cold. Not outwardly, no, but as if the lack of contact had made him empty. That concerned Virgil—the fact that physical contact could have that much of an affect on him.

Before he could overthink, Virgil reached over carefully, lifting Patton’s head from Logan’s shoulder with his left hand and resting it back on his own. Virgil smiled at the warmth that filled him, then frowned. Oh, Virgil thought. Shit.

Because physical contact was something Virgil liked, so much so that he felt cold without it, but what’s he going to do—ask the other sides to touch him?

The anxious side involuntarily winced at his thoughts, jostling Patton. The moral side shifted and yawned, opening his eyes groggily. Virgil, realizing they we’re still touching, gently shoved Patton off his shoulder and practically ran to his room, ignoring Patton’s confused What? and locking the door behind him.

Virgil did not leave his room the next day. The other sides knew that sometimes he needed time alone and did not question him or express any concern (Patton’s questioning glances were ignored and dismissed).

Virgil kept his head down for the next few days.

——-

It happened with Roman one week after Virgil’s epiphany.

Every Sunday, Roman wakes up early with Patton, cooking breakfast and singing or humming Disney songs while dancing around the kitchen as they work. So when Virgil leaves his room for breakfast he’s not at all surprised to see Patton and Roman dancing together, spinning through the kitchen with their fingers intertwined. (Virgil ignores the pang of jealousy within him—not for either one of them specifically but simply for the fact that they’re holding hands.)

Virgil makes his way into the kitchen, settles at the table, and immediately takes his phone from his pocket and opens Tumblr, scrolling mindlessly. His attention is completely elsewhere, despite his efforts to focus on the amount of shitposts and depressing memes glaring back at him, because Roman and Patton are still singing, still dancing, still holding hands. Until—

“Kiddo, you’ve gotta let me go now! Who else is going to make you my famous Patton Pancakes?” Patton smiles at Roman as he whines and begins to dance toward the stove, pulling his hands away from Roman’s. “Dance with Virge over there! I’m sure Ballroom is just his style.”

“But Daaad,” Roman frowns but relents when he receives no response, “Okaaay.” He turns to Virgil, who is still pretending to be paying attention to his phone, and drops to one knee, extending his hand. Virgil puts his phone down, faking confusion at Roman’s presence. The prince smiles widely and clears his throat dramatically, “Will you, Virgil, in all your anxious excellence, allow me the pleasure of being your dance partner this fine, Sunday morning.”

And what is Virgil to do but say yes—not for the sake of the dancing, of course, but Virgil would be lying if he said he didn’t hope they would hold hands. Honestly though, Virgil would settle for anything at this point.

It’s been an entire week since Patton’s head was on his shoulder and he’s gotten very little to no physical contact with the other sides, so he’s feeling a little (see: very, very) empty.

So Virgil could not blame himself for the smile that graced his face when the warmth of Roman’s hands began to seep into his. Nor can he judge himself for slipping his eyes closed, trusting Roman to lead him. When the prince began humming a different tune, a slow one, Virgil did judge himself for resting his forehead on Roman’s shoulder, but he did not move because Roman did not ask him to.

The two sides danced slowly around the kitchen in that position for nearly ten minutes before Patton announced that breakfast was ready, leaving to inform Logan, who was in his room. The anxious side made no move to distance himself from Roman, but soon the prince pushed him gently away, keeping their fingers interlocked between their bodies and stepping back. Virgil opened his eyes slowly and was met with the sight of Roman’s eyes observing him shrewdly, the creative side’s mouth pulled down into a frown. “Hey, Virge,” Roman spoke gently, squeezing Virgil’s hands in his, and Virgil was coherent enough to detect the concern in his voice. “You okay?”

Virgil nodded sluggishly and reluctantly pulled his hands away from Roman. He could feel his heart begin to freeze over from the lack of warmth as he walked to the chair he was previously sitting in and slouched, reopening Tumblr. Roman sat across from Virgil and the anxious side could feel the weight of his gaze.

“Hey! I’ve got Logan!” Patton rushed to the kitchen table with Logan trailing behind him, sitting down next to Roman while Logan sat with Virgil.

“They can see that, Patton.” Logan said dryly.

Roman turned his attention from Virgil and made eye contact with Logan instead, exclaiming, “Well, Pat, I think you’re absolutely wonderful for sharing this information with us! Logan’s just being a grump, as usual.” Logan rolled his eyes playfully, knowing Roman was joking, and Patton chuckled as Roman began inhaling the pancakes.

Virgil smiled, not because of Roman’s shenanigans but because the prince’s observant eye was no longer trained on him. I have to get myself together, Virgil thought. I can’t just go around touching people and I can’t ask for cuddles or hugs...so I guess I better get used to the cold.

——-

It happened with Logan two and a half weeks after Virgil’s impromptu dance with Roman, and Virgil was freezing.

It wasn’t a secret to anyone, including Logan, that the logical side had a temper. When things weren’t going according to plan (A.K.A. Logan’s Way), he lost it a bit. Logan knew this and he was trying to work on calming himself down and controlling his temperamental tendencies, but he sometimes he slipped up. Like now, for example, as he argues with Virgil in the living room about an outing that Thomas was invited to.

Virgil’s stance on the matter was this: Thomas would be ostracized, people would ask about his job and be disappointed with his answer, no one there would like him or appreciate his presence, and he’d end up alone or leaving early anyways.

Logan’s stance was this: Thomas has been avoiding his friends for too long and it was negatively affecting his mental health, there won't be many people there and Thomas will know most of them, and there it is very likely that Thomas will have a good time and his dopamine levels will increase.

Their volume levels raised rapidly and soon they were yelling, attracting the attention of Roman and Patton who left their rooms to investigate the noise. Virgil’s voice was loud but not as loud as Logan’s, whose face had become red, and Patton as well as Roman found themselves prepared to intervene if necessary.

It was then that Logan reached out and grabbed Virgil’s shoulders and shook the anxious side back and forth, over and over, nearly violent enough to hurt, and screamed, “WHY ARE YOU NOT LISTENING TO ME? DO YOU NOT WANT THE BEST FOR THOMAS, THE BEST FOR ALL OF US? LISTEN TO ME! LISTEN TO ME! LISTEN—“

It was only when Logan had stopped shaking him and stopped yelling or speaking at all that Virgil noticed his own chin was bowed, his eyes were closed, and all tension had left his body. But he didn’t move, didn’t speak, barely even breathed because Logan’s hands were still on Virgil’s shoulders and it had been so long since he felt such warmth. The anxious side knew that he should be utterly furious at Logan’s violence towards him but he just couldn’t.

“Virgil?” Virgil distantly heard Logan’s voice and the sheer amount concern in the single word he spoke, but he could not bring himself to respond. All he could think about was Logan’s touch, Logan’s warmth, and the fact that he wasn’t so cold anymore. It was only when Logan removed his hands from Virgil that the anxious side jolted and opened his eyes, the muscles in his back and shoulders tightening and his jaw snapping shut where it had been subconsciously ajar.

He stepped back and blinked once. Twice, before turning away and walking slowly to his room, shutting and locking the door behind him without a word.

—

Virgil remained in his room for the following two weeks, freezing even under two layers of clothes and his comforter; cold even while he sweat under his blankets. He only left (enveloped in two long-sleeved shirts and his sweater) when he became too hungry to ignore, and though the sides did not require food, they feel much better with than without.

He passes the living room as he makes his way to the kitchen and notices Roman, Patton, and Logan sitting on the couch, speaking to each other in moderately low voices, hunched over in a way that prevents them from seeing Virgil.

The anxious side almost made it to the threshold of the kitchen when the floorboards creaked beneath him and the chatter of the others ceased abruptly. Virgil didn’t stop though, and continued to the kitchen, grabbing five granola bars from a cupboard, and beginning to walk back to his room, refusing to acknowledge the weight of the three pairs of eyes resting so heavily over him.

“Virge,” He halted at the sound of Patton’s gentle voice, but did not turn to face the couch. “Please. Look at us. We want to talk to you.” And how could Virgil not turn around when he could so clearly hear the desperation and pleading in the moral side’s voice.

So he turned around but kept his eyes lowered, settling himself in the armchair by the couch without a word, and waited. He waited for them to yell at him for being in his room for so long; for enjoying their touch; for being such a fucking mess; for existing. Because he’s definitely yelled at himself for all of those more than once, and it wouldn’t be surprising if they did too.

“Virgil,” Logan is the first to speak, “We’ve noticed your odd behavior recently—spacing out at times, keeping your head bowed, and locking yourself in your room for a prolonged period of time—and we have a...guess as to why you’ve been acting this way that we’d like to share with you.”

Virgil opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. When he spoke, he was just above a whisper, “Okay. What…what are you thinking?” Keeping his eyes on his socks, he brought his knees to his chest, curling his arms around them, and braced himself for the wave of scorn and hate he was sure he’d receive.

“Virgil, my lovely dark prince, my knight in obsidian armor...are you touch-starved?”

And that just about broke him. Tears burst from his eyes and he set his forehead on his knees. He sobbed as he heard shifting from the couch and felt gentle hands combing through his hair. He sobbed as a fingertips lightly rubbed his back and shoulders. He sobbed even harder when his legs were carefully moved so his feet were resting on the floor and he was gathered into three pairs of arms.

There was no cold to consume him here. Only warmth, relief, and something that tasted a lot like love.

[orangestar1]

i just uploaded all my art off this blog to DA, so it’s time for the big ol’ where else to find me post

Mastodon Managed to snag a mastodon.social user before they went invite only. Pick an instance of your liking and search for @orangestar1@mastodon.social with the search bar.

Discord Linked is my personal Discord server. I mainly use it to store emotes but if you need to get a hold of me you can ping me/friend me through that. Otherwise just friend req me directly: Orangestar#1432. I also run the Undertale Subreddit Discord, so that’s another great place to find me.

YouTube I’d like to do more videos about Video Games, but currently I only have a few videos about Video Games but I think they’re funny so if you’re looking for a laugh hit them up.

SoundCloud I’ve posted a couple of my shitposts on here already, but just for completeness’s sake, here’s the whole damn account. Hopefully someday I’ll recapture the magic of when I was first starting out on that site.

DeviantArt From here on out, I’ll probably be uploading my art directly to DeviantArt. As much shit as we give it, it’s probably one of the best places to archive and view art.

Twitter My Twitter account is currently locked for dumb bullshit reasons. The link is here in the hopes that one day it will be unlocked, but I’m not going to use it ever again.

Alternative Twitter Converted an old bot account into an alt after the lock. I don’t post on it but you can use it to send me DMs.

I’m probably not gonna give up 100% on Tumblr but I worry about it staying afloat and I don’t really post here often anyway. Expect my continued posting on here to be mostly boosting my own art and updates with less flavorful descriptions. Mostly just “Hey I drew another thing here’s the DA link. Hey I made another shitpost here’s the SC link.”

[prettyboi]

I think I’m gonna start making diary posts. I haven’t been present on this tumblr; not like how I used to be with my old account I had for years before getting locked out of it forcing me to start over. This tumblr became another social media account where I just look at stuff and lurk through tags while not really engaging with anyone. And I kinda miss that. I think I’ve been seeking that feeling out for a while since and I just haven’t been able to or it hadn’t felt right or organic or just not overwhelming (like discord; I wanted to get involved in the different servers I would try to join and be active in but I would just get overwhelmed by all the constant notifications 😣). Tumblr was the only place I could really do that, shouting into the void, and feeling ok with it cuz I wouldn’t be posting for the sake of validation, or that posting meant that I needed someone to respond to my thoughts/opinions. It’s where I can enjoy and consume content on all my past or current hyper-fixations and I love that for me. Also like no matter how many notebooks or intentions I make to start journaling regularly I end up never actually doing it. And I NEED to! So this is my solution for the mean time. I already feel better 😌. Read this or don’t it’s really for me. (also so I can shitpost about one piece bc that show has given me brain rot and consumed my almost every thought and I think this is the only appropriate place to ramble on about such things lmao)

[uuuuuuuuoooooooooooo-blog]

Modern FUCKING technology

Alright everyone, sit your shitty baby asses down and get ready to listen because you’re in for a long talk about how I fucking hate Windows, art programs, technology in general, but most of all myself and my shitty habits.

I’ve cut the post to avoid stretching everyone’s Tumblr feeds because jesus christ I have a lot to say and I know you don’t want your gay anime shipping content to be obscured by my monolith of a Windows 7 hate post.

So today was a rather unusual day for me, for I actually decided to be productive for once and get some serious art done. Cool beans! It sure feels good to be motivated and doing things. There’s no way this day could go right down the shitter, huh?

Think again.

So about 2 hours have passed. and I’m pretty pleased with my progress so I decide to take a break, and I spontaneously decide to make some shitty ironic memes so I open up Affinity Photo (It’s like Photoshop, but not) and get memeing.

Things are still going good, but just wait. Wait.

After a while of copy-pasting emoji images onto shitty hyperfiltered and artefact-heavy shitposts (what a life I live) it’s time for me to eat so without even thinking, my brain switches to autopilot.

I must mention that my laptop is a piece of shit. It has always been a piece of shit. There was a time, back in the early days, where it would be considered less of a piece of shit than it was now, and the piece-of-shit meter has definitely been on a steady rise in the last year.

For some reason, my shit laptop doesn’t sleep unless I manually lock it. It used to put itself to sleep when I closed it, but now it doesn’t, and the fan’s been noisy as hell recently so I make sure it is in sleep mode 

So, mind on autopilot, I click the Windows 7 Start menu and click Lock.

Except I didn’t just click Lock. Because the Lock option is under a shitty, tiny little arrow right next to Shut Down. I just misclicked and hit Shut Down.

I knew EXACTLY what I did as soon as I let go of the mouse button. And yes, this has happened before, so the feeling of dread I was currently experiencing was all too familiar and frankly, that just made it eight times worse.

Now, if you’re unfamiliar with how Windows 7 shuts down, allow me to explain exactly how this feels.

Windows 7 does not give you a warning for Shut Down, Restart, Lock, or anything else. There’s no confirmation window, no helpful message stating “Are you sure you want to do this, you absolute fuck?” 

Nothing. Once you’ve clicked it, it’s done. No going back. If you end up misclicking, all you can do for the next 2.9 seconds is just freeze in fucking despair like

Windows 7 shutdown is merciless. It doesn’t even fucking do anything for the first 5-10 seconds just so you can bathe in the fucking horror of the situation for a while. 

And then begins Phase Two.

Phase Two, very much like Phase One, doesn’t give you a warning or anything - no, your programs just start to force close, no matter what. And even if the program has it’s own built in “Are you sure you want to quit?” prompt, the sheer devilishness that is Windows 7 Shutdown overrides that business and force quits it anyway. The only program immune to this black magic is Audacity, which must be programmed with various demonic counteracting spells and blessings from the Pope. 

And that’s when I realized SHIT, SHIT, I HAVE AN UNSAVED DRAWING OPEN AND IT’S GOING TO CLOSE. I frantically click over to Paint Tool SAI, because I’m an uncultured piece of shit who still hasn’t switched to something better even after all these years and all my mistakes. I slam CTRL+S about 15 times and pray. Praying is all I can do.

Then comes Phase Three. Phase Three is an overlay on your screen telling you that Windows is shutting down and that it’s helpfully nuking all of your programs for you. There is a cancel button, however, by the time you’ve reached the Phase Three screen hell has already been wrought across your poor mortal soul so there’s virtually no point to it anymore.

I click Cancel in the hopes that Paint Tool Sai didn’t close and that I was able to react quickly enough.

Well, I wasn’t. No surprise there, but hey, I did CTRL + S many times, it should be fine!

So I go to eat. Eat my trauma and pain away. When I come back I have forgotten my awful fucking mistake and I go to open Paint Tool SAI again.

It’s fine. I saved. I saved like 10 times. I’m fine. Everything is fine.

I open the god damn drawing.  It didn’t save. The combination of Windows 7 Shutdown happening plus my desperate CTRL + S spam must have slowed everything down so it couldn’t save in time.

The only two programs that were force shut by Bill Gate’s sadistic abomination of a shutdown sequence were Paint Tool SAI, and Affinity Photo. Everything else was untouched, except for Audacity which was doing it’s whole “do you wanna close or not fam” thing.

I’m still resisting the urge to violently throw myself in front of the next Tesco’s delivery lorry that bolts down the main road adjacent to my street, but hey, it wasn’t the first time this has happened, it was my fucking fault for not saving over the span of 2 hours, it’s also my fault for using a really shitty art program despite having multiple better ones installed.

I don’t feel like drawing anymore, possibly not for the next 47 years, so I open Affinity Photo again to shitpost, and what’s this?

FUCKING AUTOSAVE; my shitpost lost to the depths of hell was recovered.

I lost 2+ hours progress on a serious drawing with effort included, but recovered a shitty 30 second shitpost I regurgitated from my despicable mind into Affinity Photo.

Lesson fucking learned. The moral of this story, kids, is always save your shit, even when you think you don’t need to, don’t use shitty old outdated art programs for fuck’s sake, and BE EXTREMELY CAREFUL WHEN TRYING TO LOCK YOUR GODDAMN WINDOWS 7.

Fucking hell. Time to consume an excessive amount of sugar while I loathe my own existence.