mcyt-valentines - Tumblr blog

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my friend took in a stray and she’s the cutest kitty ever but he named her oil so whenever he sends a picture of her me and my other friends look like we’re roleplaying as the US military

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fml I can’t for the life of me reblog to the right blog … yall get this one

me when i fucking Boop you

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me when i fucking Boop you

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I think… I have made a mistake

Ty to everyone that has booped me so far.. I will try to boop you back

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Ty to everyone that has booped me so far.. I will try to boop you back

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Hello everyone!

I’m @captiandirtnap, or Lavi (Lay-vee). My pronouns are she/he. As the new owner of this blog, I don’t have much to say just yet! This blog isn’t going to be very active until the gift exchange time comes around again, but you can also find me over at @mcyt-halloween. I’m so excited to be a part of this. Please treat me well!

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Alright y’all, important updates!

- Everyone now has their gift! Yay!!! I’m really happy with how this turned out and I’m proud of everyone who participated!

- I’m not doing this again. I’m only really in the dsmp side of things, and with that side dying for obvious reasons, I no longer feel as inspired to run this gift exchange (I may run a dsmp one, but that will be for future me to decide closer to October)

- if someone would like to get this blog and/or @mcyt-halloween , I don’t mind transferring ownership! Just dm me and we can talk about it

I greatly enjoyed running this and if this is picked up by someone else, I would love to see y’all give them the same respect you gave me. Have a great day!

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this is my gift for the @mcyt-valentines exchange for @darubyprincx ! happy..... march!

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happy @mcyt-valentines to @naohr! here's a scariande-pop-flavored playlist for you :) and here it is on playlist-exchange for the non-spotify-ers

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Pinch Hitter needed for:

Pixlriffs, Skizzleman, BigB; Writing and drawing; February, 29th

You don't need to have participated before to and you are welcome to be a pinch hitter if you have.

I'm really impressed with the lack of pinch hitters needed this year, only 2 people needed them at the tail end of the gift exchange, which is a large departure from the latest Halloween exchange, with 6+, despite an increase in overall participants.

[mcyt-valentines]

Pinch Hitter needed for:

Pixlriffs, Skizzleman, BigB; Writing and drawing; February, 29th

You don't need to have participated before to and you are welcome to be a pinch hitter if you have.

I'm really impressed with the lack of pinch hitters needed this year, only 2 people needed them at the tail end of the gift exchange, which is a large departure from the latest Halloween exchange, with 6+, despite an increase in overall participants.

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HI im so sorry this is so last second , @lmanburg here is your gift for @mcyt-valentines !!!, i hope this works as a callium college au i have no idea what college is like i had to make a guess lmao

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belated gift for @joe-star!!! sorry for the wait :")

bonus under the read more :)

i felt bad about taking extra long when i didnt even really like the red piece i drew so i sketched out a revivebur for you... hope you like at least one of the two!

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for once, i'm here with something a little different!

my gift for @cowboyjeremiah for the @mcyt-valentines exchange is this playlist :D

apologies for the delay with your gift! i had a fic planned (and am including what i have written here, while planning to get it out and properly gifted to you as soon as possible) but got hit with pain & life, so i'll do my best to explain the major concepts!

Warm candlelight all around soaks the room in its gentle glow, even as the spring sun begins to set outside. Everything is covered in the swirl of soft pink and white, cherry petals collecting in every crevice and making hiding places out of spots nobody thinks to look. And just outside the window stands someone who Branzy hasn't seen in months. Clown is back, after so long away, off in the Fray, off fighting and returning only blood soaked and staining the ground in crimson and gold. None his own, no blood daring to pour from the cracks on his mask. He's still as pristine as the day he left, perfect in a way that Branzy's sure should worry him, the truth of welcoming in this lost dog baring its teeth. An ugly, perfect grin, all full of teeth, sharp and ready to snap. Yet, there's no growl, no snarl, silence speaks of something trained, someone fine tuned and sharpened to a point. Dangerous, in a way that only proves that he's alive, that they're both alive, alive as can be. It comes easily, comes almost naturally, to welcome in the danger because really, is that not all he knows? Or, rather, all he'd like to know? Stain the pristine white and perfect purples with dark crimson, sully the perfection that he's always known with the imperfection of the outside world. Welcome home a bloody soldier, and happily tend to his wounds, because what is he if not trapped here with the purpose to serve? [...]

so, welcome to the seraphim au. where branzy is a god (a seraph) and clown is... human? (not really, he isn't. he's a machine, something made to replace seraphs in battle)

a lot of the thought going on here is "what would happen if you flipped the power of their dynamic, while keeping them relatively similar?"

an example of a seraph, though this isn't... how branzy looks? he strays far more human, purely because of how attached he is to clown.

the playlist's main focus is the general vibe of the world, especially the choices of songs (but especially with the artists, you'll notice a few which focus on religious topics, and especially have hymn-like qualities.) and especially its focusing on the concept of clown and branzy's dynamic.

but, overall, the changing of seasons and the ruining of imagery which is traditionally seen as something soft is the main focus. a god often viewed as benevolent is drawn toward the violence and blood of the world, finding solace in clown's stories. it's a parallel to clown trapping branzy in the end, even if it's vague about it!

there's also. this piece?

Finally sitting down to rest and just sitting in silence with Branzy. They haven't seen each other in a long while, yet they settle in regardless, Branzy handing Clown a letter, carefully penned and addressed to him, looking away when Clown looks at him for clarification Branzy is embarrassed, having handed Clown such a bold show of heart, a love letter. Something that's so open and real to him, it's no different from an xray, of a photo of his ribcage, handing him his beating, bleeding heart. It's love, it's truth, it's him.

i think we need more victorian era shows of love in the world, give somebody an xray

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Nature of Curiousity

Fandom: Hermitcraft

Characters: Joe & Cleo

words: 1024

Warnings: very mild body horror (Cleo is embroidering on Joe, but he's made of fabric and does not feel pain)

Ao3: Here!

Summary: Joe Hills the puppet wants to make friends with humans. The humans do not want to be made friends with. Cleo puts him back together afterwards. [Abecedarian Prose Poem]

@mcyt-valentines gift for @therizino-ao3! Hope you enjoy :]

...

A sunrise the color of a bitter lemon tea beckons in the fresh morning scent of grass and dreams, soft around the edges and losing their remaining sharpness as sleep turns to wakefulness. Beneath an old willow tree, a corpse as fresh as the day it died rests in the dewy grass and embroiders artful designs into her best friend’s shoulder.

Cleo huffs at him, “You know, it would’ve been nice if you had waited until at least breakfast to go galavanting around and get yourself shot by a humanfolk.”

Dauntlessly undeterred as per usual, Joe merely smiles serenely and says, “But I must watch them, as the rain must fall and snow must melt; it is in my nature, sewn into my skin.”

Even-spaced threads holding his innards on the right side of the felt are the only thing decorating his skin, by Cleo’s own observation.

“Fine as that may be, your ‘nature’ does not make you invincible to arrows.” Generally speaking, being made of cloth made Joe invincible to very little, save for perhaps pain and common sense. He would grow tired of his game eventually, and then he would stop attempting to consort with the humanfolk (at least, Cleo hoped he would tire of it).

“If I am endlessly repairable no matter my condition, is that not a form of invincibility?”

 “Joe, you can only be repaired if I have the pieces to put you back together; if the humanfolk decide it would be more fun to capture you instead of running you off, you would be in more pieces than magic thread could possibly hold together.”

“Killjoys—that being people who deny my innermost whimsy, that being you—” he gestured at her with the arm not being worked on, “should not judge how one chooses to express themself, especially when they are themselves of humanfolk blood.”

Less ever said about one Joe Hills’ innermost whimsy, the more sane one would be, as neither consistency nor thoughts of sound minds are facets of his being.

Minutes flow around them like a gentle brook as Cleo continues her stitchwork and pointedly does not give his comments the dignity of a direct response, at least until she thinks of one worth saying.

“No humanfolk,” she began slowly, “Would consider me possible by their understanding of the world, let alone ‘of their blood’; I have not been theirs for a very long time.” One day was all it took to lose everything that she’d built over the course of her entire life, as one day was all it took for the sickness that ravaged her village like a pack of wolves descending on a flock of sheep to bury her in an early grave that she didn’t stay put in.

“Perhaps that much is fair and you have no love left for them, but I have never been theirs; the humanfolk ways are unlike our own, and I find myself pulled in again and again despite all attempts to the contrary.”

Quickly fleeting curiosity would be too much to ask, she supposed, as temporary passion was also as antithetical to Joe’s nature as he claimed sedation to be.

 “Really, you can’t be all too mad at me for this, because if you were as upset as you pretend to be, you wouldn’t have offered to sew me back up, and you certainly wouldn’t have added these nice yellow flowers without me needing to ask.”

She glances down to her hands as if seeing them for the first time that morning, the hands that gently wove the thread in and out of his fabric skin with a practiced ease and the comfort of a close friend. This conversation—despite its distances—has still grown much too close to an uncomfortable shard of glass nestled deep into her chest, digging and poking into the soft tissue beneath her heart that she could not excise no matter how strong her will. 

“Unfortunately, we still live in a world where I need to sew you back up for reasons other than your own foolishness, and it’s not like I could simply let someone I’ve worked on walk around looking like I did the job carelessly.” 

Vexed enough by her candid response, Joe allows the conversation to wander along to more familiar territory by changing the topic with all the subtlety he could muster—that is, not a whole lot.

 “What type of flowers are these meant to be, anyway?” Joe asks, stretching to see Cleo’s handiwork.

“Xyris flowers, of some kind; they’re all over around here and you seem to like them well enough that I didn’t think you would mind if I put some on your arm.”

Yellow petals of soft thread cascade from the top of his shoulder down midway to his elbow, just shy of of meeting up with the dusky green vines—those were almost ready to come out, but the new stitches would have to stay for a few weeks so the fabric could knit itself back together. Zero weeks have gone in recent memory that did not end with one of Cleo’s friends needing stitches (usually Joe, and usually for silly and-or humanfolk reasons), but she never stopped pulling out her needle and thread before they could even apologize for bothering her.

And as Joe thanks her for the help and the flowers, she leads him back to her house for an early breakfast to cap off an odd morning, all the while dreaming of a world where the humanfolk and the otherfolk didn’t have to live on opposite sides of the veil, and Joe could make strangers into friends.

 Better worlds and broken hearts are playing cards of the same set, but a card for resilience is also shuffled into that same deck. Crisp toast and peppery fried eggs aren’t quite miracle workers, but they’re enough to bring Cleo back up to normal when combined with good company. Dreams weren’t going to come true on their own, but maybe Joe was onto something with his adventures.

 Everything considered, it took him an hour longer than last time to get run off.

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Reminder that the gift extension ends tonight!

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two sides of a coin (Lifesteal SMP)

Rating: Teen & Up Audiences Characters: Roshambo Games, PrinceZam, Mapicc (Other characters mentioned) Additional Tags: Betrayal, Hurt No Comfort, Angst, Canon Compliant, POV Multiple, Misunderstandings Words: 2071

Summary:

"Today, I left Team Awesome." There. Now it's written on a sign, the text glowing and everything, it's officially a fact. Of course, the accuracy of this information is highly debatable, the wording a little off, but Zam doesn't like to think of his retirement, from the group, as a betrayal.   or; PrinceZam and Roshambo, and their experience with Team Awesome.

Read on AO3

my @mcyt-valentines gift for @pyrriax! sorry this took a while </3