#reread post 9

[scoundrellyfeline]

great homestuck rereading discussion T+19 (Mar 1)

first last next

SF 16:26 > i got a fun neʬ role for being too silly... so ill probably start li⩔eblogging here instead

SF 16:29 > (i also hit my tumblr limit for today because it is my sacred duty as a homestuck to celebrate march eridan... so i might blog here before being able to post the pre⩔ious one, ʬhich, ʬhile technically only three pages, looked at some stuff like the homestuck beta, the ʬayʬard ⩔agabond, going o⩔er the insane flash, and dinocomic)

SF 16:29 > tldr: i got wayyyyy too silly for my oʬn good :,<<

SF 16:34 > noʬ if i quirk ʬith ʬ or ⩔, its definitely on purpose

SF 16:36 > tho i dont r3ally -av33 th33 tim33 or pati3nc33 to us33 my full quirk ʬh3n liv3bloggin, so this ʬill probably b33 th33 only tim33 (or on33 of th33 only tim3s) that i fully us33 it to talk in this thr3ad

SF 16:37 > also my full quirk is a butt-ton harder for people to read ʬhen compared to my reduced ⩔ersion

SF 16:38 > it just makes me feel so happy ʬhene⩔er i use the cool characters as a replacement!!! it probably makes next to no sense to the a⩔erage person reading this, but i simply adore usin those characters!!!

SF 16:39 > :33

SF 17:57 > also a survey:

SF 19:09 > ok im going to start posting stuff here i think

SF 19:11 > ok the seisure clown is splitting and going up and down?

SF 19:11 > and now there are sphirographs above johns house?

SF 19:11 > wait the commands look different

SF 19:12 > [> BOY.]

SF 19:12 > yeah no thanks can we not listen to this bossy fella?

SF 19:13 > at least the seisure clown isnt inducing seisures anymore?

SF 19:14 > [For a moment you thought you heard someone say "BOY", as if whispered in the periphery of your awareness. It was probably just your imagination though.] ...is he becoming self aware? no? ok must be a fluke then. also whos talking then? is it the clown?

SF 19:14 > wait another S page.

SF 19:14 > hmmmmm

SF 19:43 >

SF 19:45 > blinking vacantly

SF 19:45 > more news!

SF 19:45 > also were finally getting back to rose

SF 19:46 > [TT: I've been watching you scramble through the house like a lunatic.] watching? i dont know if i should feel embarassed or creeped out

SF 19:47 > [TT: I've been reading reports in the news. Over the last few days, there have been many smaller meteor collisions with people's homes around the world. TT: And they seem to be getting bigger. Yours was the biggest they've identified so far.] well i suppose that answers about the meteors from earlier

SF 19:48 > [EB: wait, rose! one thing... TT: What? EB: you never even wished me a happy birthday! EB: um... hello? TT: I was working on something to send you, but I was running late with it. TT: I didn't want you to think I believed meager well wishes alone would suffice for the occasion. TT: That said, happy birthday, John. EB: haha, oh jeez, that is silly! EB: anyway, thanks!] :B <== johns face

SF 19:48 > that was nice of her to explain i think

SF 19:49 > wonder what it is

SF 19:49 > i really dont like the bossiness of this new narrator thingy guy

SF 19:50 > well were here now i suppose

SF 19:50 > wait newspost

SF 19:50 > let me read that rq

SF 19:50 >

SF 19:50 > amazing. supurb. who wouldve thunk it

SF 19:51 > i worry about how full the sylladex is

SF 19:52 > scrungly creatchure

SF 19:53 > at least it was a 1 to 1 grist ratio?

SF 19:54: id call him a wuss because of roses house, but of course, this kid doesnt have to routinely scramble across infantesimally small surface areas every time he wants to get around the house. and, at least for roses place, she doesnt have a blank void below her

SF 19:55 > cut him some slack! hes trying his best im fairly sure :<<

SF 19:55 > [BOY I SAID MAKE HASTE ON THE NARROW CATWALK!] i do not like this voice

SF 19:56 > [John is very nervous about the idea, and the strident tone of your commands is starting to make him a little upset!] uh, yeah. of course they are! if anything, im upset!

SF 19:57 > just looking at this makes me nervous

SF 19:57 > o7 harlequin figure, we barely knew ye

SF 19:58 > [==>==>][Just one ==> command will suffice. Thanks.] lol

SF 20:00 > ...yikes. so was fedorafreak nearby when it all went down? is this house a copy of johns old house and the real one is burning up from the meteorite??? idk anymore, yall. my brain hurts

SF 20:00 > [THESE BORING MEN ARE UNINTERESTING.]

SF 20:01 > he looks like hes pushing a button or something

SF 20:01 > [EB: since i got here i feel compelled to do these weird things i don't really want to do. EB: by some kind of voice that i can't really even hear. i don't know, it is hard to explain. TT: Perhaps the early symptoms of an anxiety disorder, like post-traumatic stress? EB: yeah, maybe. who knows!] quite the shrink we have on us

SF 20:02 > so will he do it???

SF 20:03 > [Now you're just being a pest.] this is true

SF 20:03 > shaking creature

SF 20:03 > quick! someone bring john inside before he catches a cold or something!

SF 20:04 > well im tired so thats all im going to do tonight

SF 23:42 > wait i just noticed that the time for all these statements is ??:??

SF 23:42 > thats a little odd

SF 23:42 > ill need to double check that pesterlog

[xieliancore]

PSU Foxes

[funsizedshark]

i spent the whole week reading buddie fic so i'm giving back by making fic covers (graphic design is my passion bla bla)

top left: ice cream before dinner by @/cloudydaisies on ao3

top right: hot ghost problems by @ebjameston

bottom left: a good day to be by @hetrez

bottom right: leave the light on (i'll be coming home) by @hmslusitania

summaries/yelling under the cut:

ice cream before dinner:

post s7 finale, eddie ends up babysitting jee and mara since he's the only one with free time on tuesdays. do you want to cry over friendship bracelets? this is how you cry over friendship bracelets. a really wonderful character study and also a manifesto for girldads buddie.

hot ghost problems:

what if you were MAGIC and A FIREFIGHTER and you STARTED A NEW JOB and you SAW A GHOST and he was REALLY HOT ????? that's eddie's whole thing in this fic. christopher is the actual real MVP, and the magic is so delightful to read about i jumped up where i was sitting multiple times. also ATHENA GRANT SAVE ME ATHENA

a good day to be:

eddie is a dance instructor, buck wants to learn the foxtrot for maddie's wedding. i cannot dance to save my life and ive always wanted to learn partner dances, but this made me feel like i was being twirled around the room anyway. do you want to cry pt two but this time about the shared human experience of being on the dancefloor? this is how you cry abt that.

leave the light on (i'll be coming home):

one of the very first fics ive read for this fandom and one that set the bar really high for everyone else. eddie is presumed dead, and wakes up in a hospital miles and miles away from home. buck steps in as christopher's guardian. had to lie down about it. a fandom favorite for a REASON

[every-sanji]

[lazyveran]

Could I get a uhhh… *squints at the menu* Jinx burying or cremating Silco’s body?

you have chosen 'veran's interpretation of what a jinx mental breakdown would feel like, featuring dead dad number 3.' this was interesting as hell to write and genuinely challenged me thank u anon!!!

Dead bodies were waste. Big, bloated flesh things. Ugly, useless, so so useless. They took up too much space. In her eyes, in the street, in the inside too, deep in the dark thing that writhed around in untouchable—

Nothing ever stayed dead. Did it?

Living things were a waste too. More than dead things, sometimes. Dead things whispered, living things were big and loud and angry. Living things hit and hurt.

Jinx knows that. Has been that. Is that. The dead has no place. Useless. Like trash. The living always became dead. And lived again, as dead.

Nothing ever stayed dead.

An idiot’s prayer

Her first body was hot and fresh. A mothers face. Father’s disappeared. Gone. Bridge eaten. Her third down the end of a stinking lane, a rotting, a misface. Then her own. Then others. More— forgotten, as if she would—

Corpses weren’t scary. Never. It was normal. She knows what people do with them.

Jinx doesn’t know what to do with Silco’s father’s body. The last body had—burned? Burnt. Shimmer mangled and dead dead dead – her fault, always.

He was in his chair. She’d made it pretty for him, drawings like he liked. The ones she made for him. His paint blood was splashed with it, now. It was prettier. Worse. Neither. She can’t look. Looks anyway.

He was cold, now.

Jinx knows that bodies rot. Flies, maggots, the stench of decay. Seen them in the streets. Made them, dozens. Proud of that, when flesh was warm. Now, now, she—

Fishbones is heavy on her shoulder. It digs into her skin, cold metal. Cold like him. The eyes dead without the crystal. Silco father didn’t have his crystal anymore. Cold, dead, soft— not metal. Maybe—

She picks his body up. It weighs as much as Fishbones. Maybe Fishbones should have been red, like him.

She asks Fishbones. He answers.

At least someone stayed. Mylo hisses in her ears. A bullet shuts him up.

Jinx takes the body from the chair.

There should be a monument. There should be people in witness. No one should see her, her Jinx, no one should know but him, Silco, bigger and better and Zaun—

Vander had one, him in metal spikes, father’s face rendered and big hands around big pipes and what would Silco have when—

Sevika. She would know.

Jinx takes Silco father to the shore.

In the lanes, you burnt your dead. It was space efficient. The first father, the only mother, they were not burnt. Piltover took their corpses from their bridge to be buried in a shallow hole. Vander—she doesn’t—

Silco should be burnt. A true Zaunite.

Jinx Powder doesn’t know how to burn a body.

Useless.

Useless

His body floats on the waves, Jinx walks out with it. Where Powder died, here, in the waters. Where Silco had died. Where father will rest.

It was wrong. Right? What would Violet think of her, hugging a corpse, soaked in his ocean, shimmer mixing with the pollution in an agony wracking her body.

She doesn’t want to let go. Pain was evidence. Pain was a cleanser. How much did it do to her? All the purple purple pain and stupid grinning faces and that fucking woman—

Was she perfect? No, no, or else—

Silco can join his first death. Live and die and live again. Like Jinx joined Powder’s death. Wasn’t that what he wanted?

A face drifting in the tide. What was peace when his face was always a painting of a single thrash of brother given agony. Betrayal. Ringing knoll bell of a new death—

Dead. He was gone. Her fault, always her fault.

Someone is screaming.

Her grip loosens. The tide grabs him with invisible fingers, pulls him away. He should have been in his coat. With a cigar. She should have fixed his hair, done his eye, like he was particular about.

Jinx watches as father’s body disappears into the tide. Not burnt. Not buried. Jinx can’t do anything right. Or— Powder—

Fishbones speaks. Jinx sees her own face disappear with father’s.

Above the dark wash water, Piltover burns.

[aeromantica]

Nine books I want to read in 2025

thank you so much for the tag @nigmos!

So, let's go!

I tag: @simsofstrawberryhill, @cursedhaglette, @woodswit, @homsic, @irrewilderer

@blackgirlprotagonist, @sapokanikan, @eekwinn, @anna-perenna @amarmeme (no pressure to do this, but I'd be interested what you're all planning to read this year <3)

[somerunner]

I feel like Lindon in this scene whenever I get an Activity notification that I decide to follow up on, trawling through an entire page because someone liked a specific post of mine

[littleaipom]

*kicking my feet* i made a comic :3

[incesthemes]

Hi! I read your (excellent) meta about s8-10,l and I would love to chat with you about it. But tumblr etiquette is hard, and I agree with your analysis in part and disagree in part, and the places where I disagree are controversial. So I was wondering if you'd prefer to have me respond on reblog (my thoughts are too long for a tag rant), on a separate post with you tagged, or just link to your post but not tag you? Or uh, maybe something else I havent thought of (like perhaps some thoughts are better left unshared lol)?

Anyway, thanks for the interesting meta!

ohh hi, thank you for reading all that, i know it’s a long one :) i can’t say i really mind what you choose to do with it; honestly i’m so curious about your thoughts i’d be happiest talking to you directly about them through like dms or something (yknow for the gratification of conversation haha). but yeah i don’t care either way, feel free to do as you like

[flymold]

we got free tix to the wolves game frm a sweet waitress at our fave restaurant and it happened to be like a special shoresy night, walked right by a bunch of the cast and my brother got to meet em thru work wtfffff it was so fun the wolves had blueberry bulldogs jerseys and everything 🥺🫐

[fagofgod]

reconsidering e9 core again after being set on so4 for like a year...

[makmakgoose]

heard from your mother (she don’t recognize you)

A man named Cas wakes up in 2003 with no memories, but he's able to piece together a few things: 

Supernatural creatures exist, and most of them will hurt innocent civilians if he doesn't stop them; he has abilities that no human hunter should have, but he knows enough about human hunters to keep that to himself, and finally; he keeps running into another hunter named Dean Winchester, who must be as lonely as he is if he's willing to put up with those former facts long enough to help Cas unravel the mystery of who (or what) he really is. 

For his part, Dean's still (not) dealing with Sam's departure to Stanford, and figures distracting himself with a bit of mystery and intrigue is as harmless as it gets, right? Right.

LINK

[castielsupernatural]

i miss virginia 🙄

[yepthatsacowalright]

"And it seems to me now that the slowing triggered certain other changes too, less visible at first but deeper. It disrupted certain subtler trajectories: the tracks of friendships, for example, the paths toward and away from love. But who am I to say that the course of my childhood was not already set long before the slowing? Perhaps my adolescence was only an average adolescence, the stinging a quite unremarkable stinging. There is such a thing as coincidence: the alignment of two or more seemingly related events with no causal connection. Maybe everything that happened to me and to my family had nothing at all to do with the slowing. It's possible, I guess. But I doubt it. I doubt it very much." - Karen Thompson Walker, The Age Of Miracles

[kontadodju]

Hirohiko Araki has an obsession with whiteness I swear to God 😭