#i had two hours of peace

[ollys-useless-rambles]

why was watching spiderman literally the only okay part of the day what the fuck

[forourtomorrows]

memories

[red-elric]

davepeta...... the thing u gotta consider about them is the fact that homestuck is really explicitly a Narrative. like, sure, it sucks that davesprite couldnt have a satisfying story as his own person, but thats BECAUSE he was structurally a Less Important Dave in the storyline, and he knew that, and it made him really depressed. I love davesprite, but he was always always always going to be held in comparison to dave, and dave was always always always going to be the one more important to the living players, and the one getting real character development. there was no way forward for davesprite alone! which sucked

wrt nepeta..... she had been dead a long time. she was a ghost, she was pretty happy hanging out w her version of equius in the afterlife, and it was really awkward and shoehorned in to have her brought back as a sprite just to make jasprose happy. but u know what? her version of equius became arquius. and the x2 combo of a meowrails and strider bros reunion in arquius and davepeta makes me gd cry

the thing about merging into davepeta for davesprite especially is that it made them a distinct, relevant character again. something seperate from dave, something that could narratively have their own development and relationships. its similar to how rosesprite became much happier as jasprose; she didnt have to bow down as the alpha rose anymore, because she was something different now. neither of them felt relegated to the sidelines the way the sprites prototyped w only one person often do.

also like?? nonbinary icon made from the two coolest characters in the series??? sprite squared cat versions of the best siblings in the series???? kisses for jade?????? davepeta going to fight fuckin lord english??????? what an absolute gem. claw claw meowtherfuckers for real only issue is we didnt get more of them

[bunnihearted]

📓🖊️🧸

[frankbelloriley]

My mom's been in town for a few days, and we got into an argument because I insisted she (and my dad) put me into Jenny Craig as a fat teenager (which is why I don't like diet programs and they do not work for me) and she's insistent that she never did. And I'm just like...I don't have body dysmorphia for no reason, chief.

[livefromtheyard]

i'm sorry but he has never looked more munchable than he did in this episode with the yard socks (!!) and the shorts

[ollieofthebeholder]

to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfic

Also on AO3 || Next >

Chapter 1: October 2015

It was, quite frankly, probably the worst day Martin had had since getting moved to the Archives, which was saying something. His alarm hadn't gone off for some reason, so he'd had to rush out the door without eating in order to make his train on time; there'd been trouble on the Northern line that had caused him to miss his connection and have to wait for the next one, meaning he'd only just made it to work before he would be considered late; Tim had accidentally knocked over his tea and it had barely missed the stack of files Martin was trying to research (he just knew that would have been his fault somehow); he'd been hung up on three times trying to verify statements; and when he'd tried to call his mother to wish her a happy birthday, the nurse on duty had been the bossy one who'd never liked him anyway and had told him, condescendingly and specifically and with a spiteful emphasis on the last word, that Miss Liliana doesn't want any calls from you. He was stressed, he was tired, he was strung out. He was on his fifth cup of tea and hadn't brought one to Jon all day, he'd forgotten to pack a lunch and didn't have the money to buy until payday, and at this point he was just counting the hours until he could leave, something he hadn't done in months—not that being home would be any better, just that he could at least bury his face in his pillow and scream his frustration out.

He was the last one back from his lunch break, clutching his cup in both hands. Tim and Sasha were hard at work, Tim frowning and Sasha intent, but she was the one to look up and wave at his desk when she saw him. “We got a statement that mentions a Leitner. Jon wants you to check it against whatever catalogs you can come up with so we can figure out how his edition is different than the original. Says it's top priority.“

Martin made a noise of what he hoped came across as acknowledgment and agreement and sat down at his desk, opening the laptop and reaching for the sticky note with Jon's familiar loopy handwriting on it. He glanced at it, and his day went from lousy to full-on shit when he saw the words Ex Altiora.

“Oh, bloody hell,“ he muttered under his breath.

Tim looked up briefly from his computer. “You know the book?“

“Never read it, but I've heard of it.“ Martin began calling up all the catalogs he could think of, but he knew it was going to be hopeless. They'd never known much about Ex Altiora, but they'd all known it was never mass-produced; there had only ever been one copy, and that much sought-after. The old bag had been furious when…

He terminated that thought quickly. His last encounter with…her…hadn't been pleasant and wasn't one he wanted to relive. Not today. Not at work, anyway.

“How many Leitners are there, anyway?“ Tim asked, sitting back and stretching. “I mean, how many books did he have in that library of his?“

“Nine hundred seventy-eight,“ Martin said automatically. “According to rumor, anyway. Not like he ever let people have access to his collection.“

Tim let out a long, low whistle. Sasha cocked her head at him. “How do you know that?“

“I did my master's thesis on Leitners.“ It was a lie. An old lie, one Martin had trotted out rather a lot in the last eleven years. It had always served him well, but just then, he wished he hadn't said it. Tim knew he didn't have a degree, and he was sure to press Martin about it later.

Fleetingly, Martin gave a thought to cluing Tim in on what was really going on. What was out there. At some point he would need to tell them anyway; they were going to get too close, sooner rather than later, and it was better that they be prepared. Elias hadn't seen fit to tell them, apparently, if Jon's skeptic act was anything to go by (he had to be faking it, nobody could work for the Magnus Institute and disbelieve that hard), but surely he wouldn't have assigned Martin down here if he didn't want them to know. That Elias might not know had never once crossed his mind. It was definitely possible to work for the Magnus Institute without some idea of what it was about, witness the other three people in the Archives, but no way would he be able to head it up if he didn't.

At the moment, however, he put his head down and kept working.

“Martin.“ Jon's voice jerked Martin out of his work haze. He looked up to find Jon scowling at him…or at least in his direction. For once, Martin didn't actually think it was directed at him. Yet. “Have you been able to find anything on Ex Altiora in the catalogs?“

“No, sorry. I don't—it was a pretty rare book,“ Martin hedged. “I mean, there was only one copy.“

Jon's scowl deepened. Now it was for Martin. “Just because it hasn't turned up on any lists so far doesn't mean it isn't on any of them. You're going to have to try harder than that. We can't just give up because it isn't easy.“

Normally, Martin would have apologized, stammered out an excuse, something, but he was tired and overwhelmed and stressed all to hell and gone, and it all combined to make him snap back at Jon in a way he normally only did with people he trusted implicitly not to punish him for it, or didn’t care what they thought of him. “I'm not giving up. It's not just that it won't be on any of those catalogs because it was unique, it's because it wasn't any kind of history or instruction book. It was just a story, somewhere between an epic poem and a fairy tale, about a monster threatening a village that turns out to be bigger than they think every time they start preparing until they throw themselves off a cliff to escape it. The people who understood what it was and what it meant had a vested interest in other people not knowing, so naturally they'd be keen to keep it off of any publicly-available lists, and since there was only ever one copy of the original because nobody ever survived owning it long enough to duplicate it, there aren't going to be other editions out there. Jurgen Leitner's library wasn't all special editions of books expurgated for the general public, you know.“

He stopped, partly because he was out of breath and partly because his brain had just caught up with his tongue and was trying to throttle it. Jon looked rather like Martin had slapped him, and behind him, Sasha and Tim were both gaping at him like he'd just stripped naked and sung a lounge song. His cheeks burned, probably a bright red, but he pressed his lips together tightly to keep himself from apologizing. He hadn't actually said anything he needed to be sorry for.

Finally, Tim reached up and manually shut his jaw, then spoke up in a voice that was almost his usual jovial tones, which told Martin that was as much an act as his own usual soft-spoken awkwardness. “Martin's thesis was on Leitner's library, remember, boss? I think he knows what he's talking about.“

“I—yes, that's right, I'd forgotten.“ Jon sounded slightly off-balance and…almost subdued. “I—I apologize for doubting you. Undoubtedly you're correct about this.“

Was it Martin's imagination, or did he put slight emphasis on the word this? He decided not to mention it. “It's all right,“ he said, and he wasn't sure if it was true or not.

Slowly, he felt himself calming, at least a little. His computer beeped softly at him, telling him he needed to plug it in, and he twisted around to get at the cord. As he did so, Jon turned to Tim. “Have you had any luck in tracking down Gerard Keay?“

Martin fell off his chair.

[raraeavesmoriendi]

on this day I would just like to announce my eternal love and gratitude for noise canceling headphones

[murderous-wolf-daddy]

I love it when someone sneaks up on you because they think it'll be funny and act like you're a bitch for being startled and annoyed. Woah what a concept, some people react negatively to unpleasant, loud, and unexpected shit 🤯

[intertexts-moving]

gmmm :]]]]

[patrice-bergerons]

idk all you can ask from people is that they do their best but some days the energy it takes to deal with earnest efforts that fall short of the mark is prohibitively high.

[miodiodavinci]

you ever end up typing a rant in the tags so long tumblr physically cuts you off and the post publishes with probably only 1/3rd of the tags

[widevibratobitch]

.

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

everyone applaud me i stress wrote a whole 3page essay (and read 20+ pages in my massive fucking textbook for context) in like 45 minutes. it is the most half-assed thing i've ever turned in but that's besides the point

[of-stars-and-moon]

A month ago, I kept a random reminder on my notes that if I finish my book in a month it can be my birthday gift to myself. I knew it was just for motivation to finish it faster, because there are still external factors. But today, as I stood in a long line to fill forms under the scorching sun and trying not to get frustrated, I got an email that my book submission had been accepted :') Alhamdulillah, for even bad days can turn the best sometimes. This was a wonderful birthday gift 😭

[onuen]

38° c in the garden at 10am, in the shadow of my hazelnut trees... This is going to be a long day. @.@