ghost-skull-trash

[ghost-skull-trash]

I am going to scream and eat this now :D

Doll, and every time I cry its about you,

and every time I laugh its for you too,

so do your little dance around my room

I know I'm gonna join you soon!

Papers dolls - Stomach book

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I just got an ad that was a recording of a woman through i think her apartment window? Like looking down from a higher floor???

I wish all gambling ads a Go suck a fart and die!!

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CHAPTER 1: A STONK COMES RARELY ALONE

Word count: 1,4k

Tags: Mention of Blood and death, sillyness, Thana is too cute beware of nosebleed.

Once upon a time.

There was a brave young lady with scarlet red hair, the kind of red that made you think of burning fire, glorious rebellion, and expired strawberry jam. Her name was Chirians, and she had ascended upon a journey most perilous, most ill-advised, and most definitely under-researched.

She was hunting for something.

Not treasure. Not glory. No, something far more elusive.

The Stonks.

Nobody really knew what the Stonks were. Some said it was a mythical treasure of limitless value. Others claimed it was a scam, a cursed economy trapped inside an enchanted spreadsheet. There were even whispers that the Stonks were sentient and could judge your net worth by the quality of your boots. Chirians didn’t care. Her fingers twitched with anticipation. Her legs jittered like a caffeinated ocelot. Somewhere in the distance, a llama sneezed.

The world had spoken. The winds had shifted. Her time had come.

The Hunt for the Stonks had begun.

There wasn’t a map. Or a guide. Or a mysterious yet friendly old man to offer cryptic advice while stroking a gray beard. No, this was real life, and nothing in this hard world ever made sense. Especially not when you were a ‘self-employed traveling merchant’ with no fixed prices, a very loose definition of ‘consent’ and an inventory full of items suspiciously similar to things other people had recently lost.

If you looked closely, you'd realize Chirians wasn't exactly a merchant.

She was a thief.

A stylish, charismatic, moderately dishonest thief with a knack for relocating goods from one person’s inventory to another’s — for a fee, of course. It was all very professional. Very business casual. And very illegal. Maybe, just maybe, it was one of those many ‘business secrets’ that led her into her current… situation.

The rain poured hard. Angry and cold, it soaked her through to the bone as she stumbled backwards, breath hitching. Scarlet blood spilled into the mud, mixing with her scarlet hair. The colors blurred. Her body trembled.

She gasped, eyes wide, not in surprise, but in that quiet, exhausted realization that she’d finally miscalculated something she couldn’t talk her way out of. She failed.

The mysterious sword that had run her through glowed faintly. It stood proud in the storm, its hilt jutting from her chest like some horrible trophy, a cruel exclamation point at the end of her messy story.

Her vision flickered. Her thoughts slowed. Everything was distant now. And in her final moment, as the wind howled and thunder shattered the sky above, Chirians stared at the blade and thought:

This would have been a chapter in a how to find the stonks guide book. How to not get murdered along the way.

*BEEEEEEEEEP*

A mop of scarlet-red hair slammed straight into the steering wheel, setting off the car horn with the full force of her forehead. The shrill sound echoed through the lot, scaring birds, bugs, and the local passengers that complained loudly.

Chirians blinked. Wide-eyed. Dizzy. Confused. Alive.

"Wait, alive?" she mumbled to herself.

She looked around in a daze, unsure whether she had just dreamt of being dramatically impaled by a glowing sword in the middle of a thunderstorm, or if she had just dozed off on Griefer’s car horn after downing three questionable meat pies and a bag of expired gummy creepers.

But secretly, she knew it felt like a distant memory scratching a the back of her head.

“Cheezus, Lady!” Griefer groaned from the passenger side, clutching his chest like she’d just punched his soul. “I asked if you were awake enough to drive — and here you are smashing your tired head into the car like a maniac!” He leaned lazily into the backseat, one arm stretched behind his head like this was all totally normal. No seatbelt, of course. Just a hand full of Bloxy Cola, half-empty and bubbling with regret. If you looked closely, you'd see a second bottle already waiting — being gently passed over by a tiny hand.

Mneme.

Sweet, forgetful Mem. A girl with the memory of a goldfish and the attention span of a chicken. Mem was like popcorn: she needed a bit of time before her thoughts popped. But once they did, it was usually useful, slightly off-topic, and delivered with the energy of a toddler discovering candy for the first time.

That’s how Chirians had met her — just there, like an unexplained quest marker.

One day, Mem was following Griefer around like she spawned from his shadow, and neither of them had any idea why. After a loooong (very looooong) talk full of pauses, miscommunications, and at least one accidental detour through a swamp biome, they pieced it together.

Mem had lost her memories.

Totally wiped. Nothing left but her name, a fondness for Griefer, and an oddly specific knowledge of how to explode enemies in exactly thirteen seconds.

So naturally, the journey to find the Stonks turned into something else entirely:

A two-for-one quest.

Find the Stonks.

Find Mem’s memories.

Try not to get stabbed.

And avoid letting Chirians drive while half-asleep.

Easy. Right?

Chirians groaned, sitting up straight and rubbing her forehead. “Ugh, that sword dream felt too real...”

Griefer snorted. “Yeah? Maybe it’s prophetic. Maybe the Stonks are stabbing you in advance.”

“Maybe you should shut your bloxy mouth,” she muttered, starting the engine with a cough from the tired, pixel-choked machine. “We’ve got a lot of blocks to burn, and no time to lose.”

Mem gently raised a finger. “Um… shouldn’t we also have a map?”

Dead silence.

Griefer and Chirians slowly turned to look at her.

“...You had the map,” Chirians said.

“The map?”

“The map.”

“Map…”

“Map!”

Mem blinked. “Oh! I gave it to a cow. It looked trustworthy.”

Griefer took a slow, painful sip of his soda. “We’re gonna die.”

This is glorious chaos in motion — you've got a beautifully unhinged road trip squad going on here. I kept your energy, jokes, and voices, and gave it a small polish to boost the timing, tone, and flow without losing your flair.

“I actually got a copy!” S1lly yapped, practically vibrating in xeir seat like a raccoon that had just discovered sugar. Xey triumphantly pulled out what could only be described as a fancy oversized piece of bubblegum wrapper, proudly crumpled and slightly sticky. Scrawled on it in what appeared to be crayon and hope was... a map.

The world's worst map.

Before Mem could reach for it with curious hands, a gloved one snatched it away.

Cruel King but forever nicknamed King, studied the wrapper like it was written in ancient glyphs. His brow furrowed as he ran a gloved finger along the questionable doodles. His face shifted as his glove touched a piece of chewed bubblegum remains. “This might give me a stroke,” he muttered darkly, flipping the wrapper upside down, as if that would somehow help. “Try and turn right at the next crossing.”

A hum.

Then the car violently swerved right.

Griefer remained completely unmoved, sipping his Bloxy Cola with the calm of someone who had accepted death five minutes ago, which he had.

Mem, however, glided smoothly to the right like an air hockey puck, softly bonk-ing against the car window before being absolutely flattened by S1lly, who squeaked and followed the same gravitational fate.

King, mercifully strapped in, avoided becoming part of the pile by clutching the seatbelt like it was the last shred of logic in this world.

He and Chirians were, disturbingly, the only ones actually using them.

“Looks like someone found her license in the bin,” User called out dryly from the back. No, not the backseat. The trunk.

Sandwiched somewhere between a heap of old junk, suspiciously empty Bloxy cans, a dented music box that kept playing off-key disc 11 notes, and Thana — who looked like she was trying to astral project out of this situation — User was a flat, mildly disgruntled pancake of a man.

Thana clung to a frayed handle like her fragile soul depended on it. And honestly, it probably did. Chirians had banned her from the front with the very specific, very heated exclamation:

> “She’ll distract me with her cuteness!”

Whether that was a compliment or a war crime, Thana still hadn’t decided. She’d opened her mouth to ask, possibly to flirt back, maybe even to argue.

But she didn’t get the chance.

Because she got shoved in the trunk before she could speak.

Now here she was: crushed between sarcasm, soda cans, and emotional damage. “Hey,” Thana muttered, voice muffled by someone's spare boot, “I could be helping drive.” “You could be setting the car on fire with your smile,” Chirians yelled back, absolutely unapologetic. “Know your powers, love.” S1lly’s voice bubbled up from the front again. “Can I be banned to the trunk too? I wanna be cute!”

“No,” everyone said in perfect unison.

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Lobotomy Corporation + Deltarune

Yall Kris is gonna experience the horrors ²

[ghost-skull-trash]

One last meal before -P-A-R-A-D-I-S-E-

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So I'm back with the creepy gross ass mobile game ads AND now with the newcomers of temu....

Why does tumblr allow blatant scams?....

I wish all gambling ads a Go suck a fart and die!!

[ghost-skull-trash]

PLEASE DON’T IGNORE ME!!

My four-year-old sister Soso has caught chickenpox from other children. It would be fine if her body hadn’t been weakened to the extreme by almost two years of malnutrition, sickness, poor life conditions, lack of sleep and lack of access to clean water. She’s very sick and won’t stop crying. She’s battling a high fever while baking in the intense summer heat. All I can do is fan her face with a piece of paper because we don’t even have windows to shield us.

Until now, we held on to our gold rings because they held sentimental value, but yesterday we sold them to buy medicine for her. As painful as it was to part with this last piece of our old lives, it’s not enough. She needs more medicine, she needs food, she needs clean water. I can’t bear watching her deteriorate anymore, what is her fault?!

Please help me help her. She’s only four, how is this fair? At the very least please share this post if you see it. You might not be able to donate, but someone out there can and we need to reach them. Please!!

✅Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #347 )✅

PLEASE DONATE HERE

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Voyeurism? Or Observation

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happy freakin pride or somethin!!! this is my piece for the @mesevents gift exchange, i got to draw @ghost-skull-trash OC Emm T. Graves ^_^

very very fun very cute!!! i hope u enjoy!!

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The Fear is Hunger.

My gift for @euporiavortex for this @mesevents of their F&H oc Oskar, I tried to replicate the game style as much as I could and I hope you like it!

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she's doom scrolling 😔

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Critical levels of S1ll1ness!

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AN ANNOUNCEMENT...

Deep in the bowels of our server, some of the most twizt'd myndz of our age have gathered together for one terrible goal: the creation of a fanzine... coming soon.

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you wont believe what they got in the charity shop!

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Who knows, perhaps you will encounter The Dream Lady tm?

I dont know if my dreams are weird simply cause I either don’t dream, or the ones I have are just normal days

Like a week ago I had a dream of a regular day but I realized it was a dream and woke up cause there wasn’t any clothes hung on my chair

I miss having wild ass dreams

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I am either imagining Jack blacks head on a giant centipede or with enough arms he is effectively a centipede or jackblack, but he crawls around like a spider in the middle of the night..... neither of those options are any good...

I dont know if my dreams are weird simply cause I either don’t dream, or the ones I have are just normal days

Like a week ago I had a dream of a regular day but I realized it was a dream and woke up cause there wasn’t any clothes hung on my chair

I miss having wild ass dreams

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The Nightmare over.