#This is what I meant with the tags btw lmao

[justonefeather]

I wonder sometimes how often people read my tags when they get long. Like i go on long tangents, if you read there's probably lore and world building in there, could also be writing about my relationship with things like sexuality or gender or society, could also be talking shit about my dad. Could also be me staying something cringe or raunchy or just being plainly mentally ill. It's really rolling the dice when you go look. Is the risk worth the reward?

[whoredmode]

and then there was that failed DS port a few years after the GBA one

[unproduciblesmackdown]

imagine...

...that some things have changed (including some marigold ventures?) and Atlas May is like uh oh both lackadaisy & i are doomed, but if i set up my own death maybe only i'll be doomed and lackadaisy might have to shutter but perhaps more so on involved people's terms, such as mitzi being fine financially, but also if she thinks it's her fault that'll be good for maintaining my posthumous Image to her, perhaps she did some defrauding again? and i'll have mordecai, my trusted & effective gunman, be the one to fatally shoot me, & of course he doesn't want to, but it's Mere Work Ethic time, what's he gonna do besides argue at all maybe, ultimately refuse? (no) and he may hate it but he's not going to want to fully turn on mitzi or anything after because then what would have been the point

[teddybeartoji]

I'M HEREEEE!!!!! thank you @miyameowru and @mrsokkotsu and @storiesoflilies and @cloudwisp for tagging me i love you all sooosoo much<333333 THIS WAS SO FUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OIKAWA MY DARLING BOYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SEEING THAT MADE ME SO SO HAPPY ACTUALLY WAHH I MISS HIM SM<3333333 AND THEN TENGEN AND CHUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAHHH I LOVE THEMM!!!!!!

AND THEN OFC MY OWN PERSONAL TEDDY BEARR and kuna and bakugo😭😭😭 i can't believe that he and sukuna are the same lmao that's so funny. aaaaaaand then we have suguru and fyodor💀💀💀💀no comment there. i think fyodor would despise me actually and suguru is a lil yandere so idk what that says abt our perfect little relationship.

OK AND FINALLY SATORU AND DAZAIII WHAT DO YOU MEANN ONLY 85% THEY ARE MY LITTLE MEOW MEOWSS THEY SHOULD BE HERE WITH ME RIGHT NOWWW RRRRAAHHHHHH

no pressure tags: @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat @gothsuguru @staryukis @mossmotif @lxnarphase @kisstoru @ohimsummer @tirasamu @osarina @mizzfizz @sleepymarimo @hayakawalove @nappingmoon @spookuna @forest-hashira @madaqueue <33333

[dustykneed]

you are my sunshine, my only sunshine

you make me happy when skies are gray

(prompt fill for @mcspirkevents' mcspirk bingo prompt "gone with the wind".)

static frames below:

ouch! neck deep in aos bones feels rn... lmk if i should make a fix-it or somethin

[m1d-45]

reverse isekai but it’s me at 6:45 pm in a car

-> warnings: spoilers for inazuma archon quest, depictions of modern organized religion(none are specified, none are in great detail, but talks of restrictions within those are mentioned. it’s only one paragraph but still), this is unedited and with zero (0) plot to it :))

-> lowercase intended

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky

your world is loud.

from the moment the favored could see it, this was clear. it was loud, filling with screaming machinery that left trails of dust and buildings so tall it made their neck hurt to view.

it was bright, with lights that shone through the darkest of nights, reflecting off glass and the speeding machines and reflecting reflecting reflecting back into eyes to sting. your sun is so harsh, so unpleasant and overbearing, hot instead of warm and burning instead of soothing.

it’s cluttered, wires suspending from towers and running along your roads. glittering signs point out things they can’t read, the sacred script only giving them a headache. at night, they can find no comfort in the stars, something that sends them into a panic the first time they see it. it’s not clouds, it’s not anything worldly blocking their view, it’s that they’re gone, the ones they can see washed out and faded. they wonder how anybody can live like this, and if you blessed them with a night sky of such beauty because yours was so…

they can recognize some of it, the plants and trees and flowers, wild or not, call to them in recognition, but so much is frighteningly new. the style of the clothing, the kinds of jewelry on the people you pass. try as they might, they can’t locate a single vision anywhere, not even on you. they wonder if people hide them, like during the vision hunt decree, but even at home you don’t reach for it, you start fires with odd devices and plants grow slowly, the air and stone unmoving to your desires. you spill drinks. you freeze water using more strange machinery.

it’s so strange, because they can feel your world brim with elemental energy. their vision beams, shining so brightly with all of the potential suspended in your world. no matter how poor their elemental sight, your world glows, the air itself carrying a blue tinge. they try, in a world without visions, to use theirs, and their power springs in an instant to their fingertips. it dances across their hands, enveloping when they barely intended for a small spark, a small flame jumping across the dry grass of unspent energy in your world. they extinguish it quickly, tightening their hand into a fist to stamp it out before they damage something, and something like awe shines in their eyes. there’s so much, their vision so eagerly lapping it up, and you.. don’t use it?

you have machines for everything, devices to harness the wind and waves, boats to travel across water at impossible speeds, strange flying machines that you can hear from the ground, mere specks in the sky, and yet… you have yet to capture them in their most essential forms. you speak of elements, sometimes, but you use different names and there seems to be many, many more. you say that the air holds ‘nitrogen’, that you seal things with foil of ‘aluminum’, and you even say that water itself is composed of ‘hydrogen’ and ‘oxygen’, something that they struggle to understand. how can water be made of something else? how can hydro users bend more than one thing to their will? how can anemo wielders command such a broad spectrum of things? you speak of other elements in the earth, and though some are familiar, such as iron and gold, others’ names hold no meaning. you say potassium is in fruit, that there’s multicolored rocks called bismuth and poisonous liquids named mercury. you say that there’s 118 elements, when all they’ve known is 7.

it takes them a while to come to terms with that one, and even then they settle on it being inherently outside of their understanding. after all, they are in a world crafted by a god.

speaking of..

there are multiple religions in your world?

and it’s not as if they’re different ways or interpretations of the same god, no, it’s entirely different ones. not in the ways of teyvat, where everybody’s aware of all seven and follows the one of their nation, not even that much. they’re wildly different, with different policies and ways of worship, some with multiple gods and others with just one. some are strict, ways of lifestyle chosen and laid out, whilst others are lax. and even within the same religion, it varies from one place of worship to another? somehow? some religions specify clothing, disallowing certain parts of the body to be exposed- which they can understand to an extent. it’s when they learn of religions that police love, ones that write in harsh lines where and when and who somebody can love, that they need to take a step away.

so many parts of your world are confusing. so bright, flashy, new, rumbling in the walls and barreling down the roads with nothing but a scream to warn. lights are everywhere, every sign and post and building vying for your attention. this they could understand, as who wouldn’t wish to be the object of your interest, but the most dizzying fact that they learn during their stay is that you are no different than anybody else. everybody is subject to these sights, everybody is pulled in by a particular shade or cut of cloth, everybody is startled by the bright lights and loud announcements. everybody. you’re lost in the ocean of people so different and yet endlessly identical, nobody’s eyes lingering on you or calling your name specifically. when you step into a crowd, nobody notices you, save for the select, precious few to whom you are known. you have to carve out a place in your world, go out of your way to make sure your name, your face, your interests are kept in somebody’s mind, and even then people dare to forget.

that’s the worst of all. overwhelming lights, sounds, smells: nothing. it makes sense that they’d be out of their depth in a world built for the divine. but to know that you’re not receiving any of the recognition you deserve, to know that nobody thinks highly of your work in teyvat, to know that you were kind enough descend and build yourself a new life amongst the world, and to share your creation across said world, only for nobody to appreciate it. nobody thinks twice. people dare to complain over something you’ve hand-crafted, over something that, even after completion, you revisited with a traveller, doing your best to save one sibling and fix the problems that had cropped up in your wake. you’ve done so much, you’ve cared after it so lovingly, and you boosted the power of some of those you granted a vision to. as somebody who had experienced this love first hand, the favored could not find the words to express their anger at the situation. your world was wrong, it was cruel, and though they found beauty in the most hidden of places, it didn’t change the fact that it didn’t love you.

it only strengthened their desire to take you back to teyvat, where you would be truly loved.

[handsomegentlebutch]

My 3 little cousins were baptized today. "Triggered" is kind of a strong word but being in a catholic church again... I'm a little fragile rn ngl.

[ask-the-bone-boys]

WIP SNIPPETS!

HELLO i want to prove that i actually AM working on stuff (actually because i need to share things or i will explode) SO here are some sneak peeks for the three whole wips i've been cooking lately!!!!

Chapter 3 of Familiar Faces

(some context: "Papyrus" is Stretch, "Red-Papyrus" is Edge, they don't have their nicknames yet </3)

“Who designed all these, anyway?” Russ asked, squinting a bit as he poked at a powered-off laser. “I know a Papyrus wouldn’t come up with a display like this.”

“They’re mostly old puzzles from back when those were still a big thing,” Papyrus said. “We’ve been too busy to make new ones, and we’re still trying to get rid of all the solutions-”

“Oh, these are ancient!” Russ groaned, rubbing his hands down his face like it was the worst thing he’d heard all day. “Okay, okay, good news! You have us here now! We will amend this!”

“You really don’t gotta-”

“If we don’t it will be an affront to traps everywhere!” He looked through the toolbox they’d brought along. “We’ll need some more tools, but… Hey, Papyrus?”

“What?” Papyrus and Red-Papyrus said simultaneously. They squinted at each other.

“That one, sorry,” Russ clarified, pointing to Red-Papyrus. “You know what we’re looking for, right? Do you think you can dig around and find anything like that?”

“...Yes,” Red-Papyrus said somewhat reluctantly, backing off from where he was inspecting a rusty saw blade. “Blueprint paper, flamethrowers, scrap?”

“Right on the money!” He snapped his fingers into a gun shape. “Also some power tools, bigger wrenches, maybe some gasoline… And, whatever else you come across, I suppose!”

“I can grab that stuff if you want,” Papyrus offered, fairly certain he’d know where to find it better than someone who’d allegedly only been in this universe for a day.

“Nonsense! I need to show you how to bring these hunks of junk to their full potential!” Russ said, grinning as he raised a hammer that was far too big for the toolbox he’d pulled it from. “We’ll start with some percussive maintenance!”

mourning the loss of the horizontal line in the text editor-------------------

Something's Wrong With This Guy (WORKING TITLE LOL)

(Context: Edge's perspective, takes place before meeting Stretch)

“Russ?” He called out. “God dammit, Russ, where did you go?”

He scanned the area for even a hint of where Russ had run off to, but he could hardly see a thing. Maybe he was being smart for once, hiding in a bush somewhere. He wasn’t in any state to fight. He’d sooner topple over before he could get a word out.

There was no answer. Of course there wasn’t. If he was hiding, answering would give him away.

Unfortunately, that was just as likely as if he were already dead.

He finally caught another glimpse of the attacker, sending another round of attacks their way with a renewed fury. No matter what had happened, he’d make sure he dealt with it appropriately. 

Right as his first round ended, he rushed in close, forgoing his magic just to pin them against the ground. He held them there by the neck, rearing back his fist.

Then, finally, he saw Russ, grinning up at him and cutting through the thick fog of adrenaline like a knife. 

He shoved himself off, his anger dissipating just as quickly as it had arrived. 

“Aww, but it was just getting fun!” Russ complained, pulling himself out of the snow and brushing himself off. “I had a suspicion you’ve been holding out on me, but…”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Papyrus shouted. “I could have killed you!”

“Isn’t that what you want?” He pointed out. Papyrus couldn’t find a response. “Besides, I’m fine! That was fun! Come on, let’s keep going, we can-”

“No.”

“But-”

“You are incredibly lucky that both of us are not dead,” Papyrus hissed, gesturing to the open area around them. “I don’t give a damn how much of a death wish you have, but if you want me to have a part in it, I will do so of my own accord. Otherwise, leave me out of it.”

“So… You don’t want to kill me?” Russ asked. Papyrus sputtered, quickly gaining the urge to prove him wrong as a smile grew on his face. “Oh, Papyrus, you’ve grown so much! I’m so proud of you!”

With a swift smack to the back of his skull, Papyrus finally began to drag Russ to the house.

---------------------------

Reboot Part 1: Swapfell (working title)

(Context: Fluff's perspective, his very own introduction fic :'> so proud)

“What the fuck was that,” he growled, not caring to greet the bastard on the other end.

“I asked Alphys to install a plugin on your phone that’d get you to answer it for once,” Sans answered. He could hear the smile on his face. “It only activates after five missed calls, so really you’ve only got yourself to blame for this one.”

“Fuck you.”

“Hey, saves me the trouble of having to run back home to make sure you’re not dead.”

“And what’s so important that you had to wake me up in the most assholeish way possible?”

“I needed to tell you- wait, I woke you up? Papyrus, have you been sleeping all day? It’s seven in the-!”

He hung up. 

It took about a minute for the phone to ring again. He snickered, imagining his brother coming down from his tirade just to realize he’d been lecturing a ghost the entire time.

He stared at the screen. 

Five calls, huh?

He answered on the fifth, on the very last ring.

“Point taken,” Sans said, resigned. He was probably pinching the bridge of his nose in that way he always did when Papyrus pissed him off. “Look, I just wanted to tell you I’m gonna be working late again, okay? Some stuff came up.”

“Wow, that’s a huge diversion from what you do every single day. Super urgent news for me to know, couldn’t possibly have just texted me that.”

“You regularly make me wonder if you’re even receiving my texts because you never answer them. The only way I even know your phone works is when I ask if you want takeout.”

“Maybe you should learn something from that.”

“I’m not going to bribe you into answering my texts, Papyrus.”

“Don’t be surprised when I don’t answer ‘em then.”

“Papyrus-” Sans started, but cut himself short. Then, he sighed. “...Look, kid, I don’t want to argue with you. I just wanna be able to know you’re alright. I’m sorry it’s annoying, but I can’t– ...I just need to know, okay?”

Papyrus didn’t respond. He clenched his jaw at his brother’s change in tone.

“If you’ve been sleeping all day, then you probably haven’t eaten,” Sans continued. “I’m pretty sure there’s still some leftover stir-fry in the fridge. You should have some. It might be a bit spicy for you, but it’s good food.”

He hummed plainly.

“...Well, that’s all I wanted to say. I gotta get back to work now, but I’ll see you when I see you, yeah?”

His jaw clenched just a bit tighter.

“Love you, kid.”

He hung up again, for real this time.

[camzverse]

Umm..... this is just silly...

LOL YEAGH MAN THATS ABSURDLY SILLUY

[monty-glasses-roxy]

For some reason, this round of meds (same dose and everything as last time) is making me have very violent Realisations and Remembering Things moments. And by that I mean the Thing I Forgot and/or the Realisations show up with a bat and see how hard they can make my brain hit the wall. So anyway.

YOU GUYS REMEMBER SPIKE THE WETFLOOR BOT??? YOU GUYS REMEMBER HER??? THE FIRST FAZBEAR ANIMATRONIC TO BE BORN FROM LOVE INSTEAD OF PAIN??? YOU REMEMBER HER???

CAUSE I JUST DID

[the-acid-pear]

This mystery is quite honestly my white whale (except not really because i'm very shy and lazy) so i'm giving it a second shot: does anyone who lived in Argentina in the 2010s remember those railroad safety posters that were extremely fucking ominous and creepy? The format was first mention the thing you Should Not Do and then continued with "ellos lo siguen esperando" implying that if you do that thing you'd fucking die.

The one in particular i remember was one that said "el se bajo del tren mientras aun estaba en movimiento, ellos lo siguen esperando".

Here's one pic a guy on reddit helped me found, it was on the background of a train station pic collection. I remember banners like this being Everywhere. Hell, I even remember there being a TV commercial version of them, but i cant tell with certainty i didnt make that up.

Anyway, point is: does anyone else remember these or just happen to have more pics or info on them? It's insane how impossible it is to find ANYTHING on them.

[white-weasel]

I love and hate both canon and fanon at the same time. I am very complex

[collegeboysam]

I need u to stop playing with me fr saying u need others to cook assad rpf because i have read all ur 10+ j2 rpf fics for supernatural so what's the holdup for iwtv? YOU do the cooking chef

ADASFSDFSDGDHDHFGFHFGHFG 😭😭😭😭

I'm sorry my liege! I'll get to it!

[eissaphir]

A couple years ago, I wrote a YouTube comment and somebody replied "AHAHAH THIS READS LIKE A TUMBLR POST LMAOOO"

I haven't been the same since.

[jack-kellys]

3 bc we are Choosing Violence today

well.

give me a number and i'm gonna say some real shit rn.

3. screenshot of an awful take or a description of the worst thing you've seen opinion-wise. [my tags say no hate is meant, btw.] [but also this is mild bro.]

i could say a lot of things! i could talk abt someone who sent me an ask saying that uksies "completely ruined the sprace dynamic" (racist and sexist, made a post abt it). i could talk abt a post that had said nothing had changed or was special abt uk's something to believe in even tho jack was entirely black and said "i know girls like you don't end up with guys like me” (made a post abt it) i could talk abt every post from the dawn of time about sunshine boy crutchie and the absolute damage andrew keenan-bolger accidentally incited with his/bway's take. but i saved two special instances bc someone else also asked for #3. ahe he hem:

there was an issue a while back where there was someone on tumblr saying that they don't headcanon the jacobs to be jewish, or something. in theory that'd be fine, everyone's entitled to their own cultural headcanons, but the jacobs' jewish identity and culture is something this fandom (& i) has been very adamant about and i’m gonna be frank. this was like……. the first if not only diverse headcanon/fact about newsies for like. a long time. and by that i mean popularized- i think latino jack kelly years later became popular but that’s like…. recent, oddly enough.

anyway the jacobs are canonically jewish, according to their names, their parents’ names, and the 1992 novel flat-out saying it. but this person’s reasoning, after a friend of mine cites the book’s statement, is "headcanoning characters with Jewish names as Jewish feels like stereotyping”. (i don’t have the post anymorrrre… might’ve been deleted)

and so like. this person. had to have been trying to cause discourse i’m sorry. what are y. the book is from DAVID’S POV, btw, like. he is saying they r jewish. the point of jack being irish in 92sies is that irish and jewish community tensions were high and so them working together is slay & cool. and since they do have jewish names, what you need to do is respect it, not make attempts to admonish yourself from not wanting to see them that way. what?? what the fuck. so that was a crazy fucking take. this fandom has history, and it’s important. like ur allowed to be new here, of course you are, but when these ppl who’ve been here a long time are trying to HELP YOU understand something and u say that shit. brother god help u lmao

[the-letterbox-archives]

is there a muse or inspiration you draw from when it comes to your stories? you just have so many and i’m wondering what fountain of immortal writing youth you drank from, dawg LMAO

last ask before signing off! but this is such a fun one to think about!

i don't have one surefire source of inspiration (other than my chronically silly brain), each story has a different landing pad that usually consists of a random thing that i've taken inspiration from, and a question to drive the work (some are very edgy or philosophical haha). they come from incredibly random sources, but i can list the ones i remember!

tales from a dying heart

where it came from: i wanted to write an anthology as a break from my old novella structure, and i was thinking about love. obviously i had to fuck it up because god forbid anything on the archives is happy. fun fact: that was originally the only story the archives was meant to hold! it was the first and only story, and the blog used to be themed after tales from a dying heart entirely (that's why my current pfp is still the heart itself)!

driving question: "why does love hurt people?"

the rockdove promise

where it came from: originally a group project that i had the idea for (i was itching to write something with mythology and more classic fantasy if that makes sense). when the others couldn't continue it, i had already fallen in love with the world and gods, so i added more to the worldbuilding, and added characters i was passionate about (and found my first ever character punching bag, laszlo).

driving question: "how can we save what we care about from oppressive control?"

insincere.

where it came from: i had one of my worst days where i couldn't get out of bed. i had the idea to channel the feelings into a story, so i got out of bed, and wrote insincere., then decided i wanted to keep it going after my initial bad day.

driving question: "how can we feel happy?"

on kingston alley

where it came from: someone, i think it was @noxxytocin, added me in a tag game that involved writing a scene with the provided line. i was a young, growing archivist back then and didn't understand the concept, so i wrote a short screenplay, giving it a fun mystery hook (because i felt like it) and some repressed sapphics, then decided to continue it because the format was so freeing!

driving question: "why do we forget the victims?"

school rules

where it came from: a novel i abandoned because the format wasn't clicking. i axed the mc, replaced them with sunny and remade the old mc to be what is now darcy spencer, and changed the format to my first ever first person story since my first novella!

driving question: "how does academic pressure hurt us?"

the dumaresq poems

where it came from: i was getting overwhelmed with my own expectations for uploads from the rest of volume 1, so i dug up some old poems of mine, rewrote them a bit, and put a cute woodsy aesthetic over it!

driving question: "how can poetry tell us emotional stories?"

the hunt is a dance

where it came from: another project with a friend that fell through, it didn't change much from then. i took the friends desired ideals of religious and folk horror and intertwined it with my own narratives of power, hatred, and misguided justice.

driving question: "why do we bend to corruption, and how can we stop?"

TITANSPINE

where it came from: @ominous-feychild and i were discussing some of her lore, and we both bonded over our love of telepaths/prophets in stories. i had always been fascinated by urban fantasy and had a vague desire to make it, but magic systems are so hard for me. that conversation sparked a drive to actually make it. i named it red velvet, then barlowe told me to change the it (thanks for that btw), and i created the protagonist that shaped the whole story and it's themes.

driving question: "how can we fight social and police corruption?"

n3xt y3ar

where it came from: scandal after scandal, feud after feud about the existence of generative ai and it snubbing real creatives tipped me over the edge, so i wrote n3xt y3ar out of spite, imbuing it with a main character near and dear to my heart due to our similarities, and a world i both loathe and fear. let's see a robot make a story with that motivation. fuckers.

driving question: "how do us creatives find hope in a world of generative ai?"

soleil éteint

where it came from: i wanted to write another fiction podcast style story (school rules technically being the first), and i was on a magnus archives high. i'm fascinated by fear in the real world, and dreams in writing, so with the motivation of some great fiction podcasts, i began writing soleil éteint, which flowed very quickly since screenplays and podcasts are quite easy for me to write as it turns out!

driving question: "how can we stop running away from fear?"

shatter the shield

where it came from: i realised i was long overdue for some tragic gays, and i wanted to experiment with a more distinct narrator without writing a fully discursive piece like a podcast or screenplay. as i was writing the prologue, i knew the narrator, kåre, wasn't the main character. but the love i gave him for the main character, roshan, was so palpable, it made me want to continue the story. i knew by how i wrote it that kåre was going to die, and soon, but i think that added an extra level to the themes of the story.

driving question: "why can't we accept love, and why can't we process grief?"

and of course, volumes 3 and 4 come from even more random places lmao- hope this explained my random writing process!