#404 errored itself

[evening-rose-309]

@trouslinabone thought you might appreciate the man

i got spurs that jingle jangle jingle

https://crystalvfae.com/

[ittybittyfanblog]

Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 6

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a (!) player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, you get your very own samantha from her (2013) lol, time skips as a plot device!, this has an arc i promise, if anybody here plays disco elysium you’ll find that i took concepts of “the pale” as inspo at some points in this chapter lmao A/N: Oof this one’s a little longer than any of the previous chapters. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! <3 (and just a heads up, this might be the last chapter I post before I kick it off for the holidays. advance happy holidays! if you guys celebrate that sort of thing.) 

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9

There’s a quiet stillness brought by the morning after that makes the problems of a heavier night seem like a fairly distant memory. 

For at least a few minutes past the moment you blink away the stubborn grit in your eyes—you don’t remember the last time you’ve been this well-rested in ages—you lie, listless, on the soft powder-blue bedding of your twin-size mattress, watching specks of dander and dust drift from the amber sunlight that filters through the cracked panes of the casement window. 

It floats aimlessly; unhurried. Much like you.

The echo of last night’s events return to you in sporadic flashes—fragmented and unsteady. The whispered exchanges, the playful banter between you and your unlikely conversation partner play back in your mind, like some half-finished supercut. 

And the more you recall, the more awake you feel, chipping away the last traces of daytime lethargy weighing you down. 

“So, what happens now?”

The sound of a car backfiring breaks through from the outside, like a starting pistol signalling the beginning of another day. A familiar, heavy weight presses against your side, and you thread your fingers through the scraggly fur of the purring feline who’s taken the empty space on your left, just above the covers. 

You breathe in deeply, closing your eyes. 

“I wish I had an answer—I’m still trying to figure that out myself.”

You realize how many questions still linger, a lot more left unanswered. Far more than what you were able to glean, at least. From what little you’ve learned, an entirely new moral dilemma emerges—one you never imagined you'd have to contend with. 

There’s a lot of things you’ve never expected to happen. Yet here you are. 

“Seems we’re at an impasse.” 

It’s an odd thing in itself. You keep waiting for the disbelief to catch up, for a shred of sanity to surface and make you reject the situation you’ve found yourself entangled in. You should be feeling the same, pesky feelings that pulled you sharply out of your flight of fancy last night; a sense of trepidation for what lies ahead in this tenuous game of two. 

But instead, you’re here. Now fully awake, and already looking forward to the day with wary acceptance. Looking forward to resuming where you’ve left off with that charming anomaly who’s upended your world, and left you suspended in an exhilarating limbo of uncertainty and excitement.

“...Indeed.”

You crave it—like the first stirrings of a neophyte druggie teetering on the edge of an irreversible habit. 

You need another hit. 

“Why the long face, little dove?”

Because if desire could manifest into being, it would’ve been Sylus. 

“We can figure this out together, can’t we?” 

You pick up your phone. 

––––

“You’re here? Make yourself at home.” 

You look at him, deadpan. He looks back at you serenely. 

Your voice takes on a dry monotone when you respond, “Keep talking like that, I’m about to cum.” 

There’s a shocked silence; then––

Sylus barks out a surprised laugh, immediately breaking character. 

You snort. “Good morning to you too, I guess.” 

He meets your gaze with a look of scandalized amusement, his smile wide enough to flash teeth. 

"Good morning, indeed."

––––

You two fall into a natural rhythm even before the day comes to a close. Perceptive as he is, Sylus hasn’t let you linger in the unease left over from last night any longer than necessary—which to say, should be left buried and forgotten, past its provenance. 

“So you could, like–hypothetically, top up my ascension materials… indefinitely?” There’s a manic shine to your eyes when you confront him back at the home screen, gleeful and triumphant after you boost almost all the 5-star cards you have of him up to max level. “Like an infinite glitch?” 

He’s content to just simply listen to your excited chatter from his languid perch on the seat, one palm resting against the side of his face as he watches you—half-lidded and relaxed. Utterly entertained by your antics.

The slight twitching of his mouth, the subtle tilt of his head… each minute shift in his expression makes a whole world of difference from the version you’ve known him longest—almost a lifetime ago. 

Now he acts so human, so alive, that it’s almost unreal. 

(It’s almost imperceptible, but you swear the air also feels different; like the pixelated space around him is bending, stretching, to accommodate this newer him.) 

“Sure,” he shrugs, lips quirking up into a half-smile as he notices the deep crease forming between your brows. 

He knows the question you’re about to ask—curious thing that you are.

“How, though? Like, what are ‘materials’ to you?” You make air quotes with your fingers, making you appear all the more endearing to him look at, in your process to make sense of a world that’s unfamiliar to you.

“Think of it as upgrades,” Sylus explains patiently. “You place the order to modify the equipment I use, in whichever situation calls for it.”

“And Memory Cards?”

“... A video reel, maybe. Or a restricted case file—locked until you’ve got enough to trade for the information you want.”

“And I suppose the dealer in question here is you?”

He arches an eyebrow. “Who else?”

“Huh,” you say, considering. “So, Deepspace Trials. That’s something you do on the daily? Because I… make you?”

“More or less.”

“And you never thought to question that?” 

“Mm, maybe I’ll start charging for my services this time around.”

You roll your eyes, already accepting his analogy for what it is. “Oh, please. With the amount of money I’ve spent on this game, consider yourself paid in full.” 

––––

You were right about your earlier prediction—this new Sylus in combat mode is something else. 

For starters, he’s a lot chattier.

“Ouch, kitten– don’t charge in like that.”

“Why are you using a sword? Don’t you like the guns I’ve given you specifically for this?” 

“What are you waiting for? Make her resonate with me now.” 

And, instead of sticking to his lines and responding to whatever the MC’s programmed to say during battle, he focuses on whatever you’re fussing over—no matter how… moronic it is.

“Ah, fuck! I hate that spinning thing!” 

“Move, then. Let me handle it.” 

“Block it, block it!”

“I would, if you weren’t halfway across the field. Stick closer to your partner next time, yeah?” 

He doesn’t say any of his usual lines. Nothing from his scripted prompts. When all Wanderers are defeated, there’s no post-battle banter between him and the MC. 

“Goddamn, you’re strong!” You whoop giddily, completely energized by straight winning almost twelve Orbit trials in a row. I guess that’s what a fully awakened Solar pair gets you, huh? 

Sylus lets out a chuckle, infected by your enthusiasm. He doesn’t sound the least bit winded, despite all the damned fighting you’ve put him through.

“We make a good team,” he allows. And because he likes the little nose scrunch you do when you’re annoyed— “Although your dodging really needs more practice, sweetie.” 

Before you could think of a comeback, the pop-up window for the next stage comes up. Ass.

––––

Come Monday morning and you’re once again swamped with work. 

You barely have enough time to scrounge something up for lunch—if it weren’t for the persistent reminders from Sylus, chiming in every five minutes once the digital clock on your phone had hit eleven-thirty, you’d probably skip eating altogether.

And make something else than just boiling a pot of instant ramen, sweetheart. You’re on track for an early grave at this rate. 

“I could… add an egg?” You suggest, unsure. “Maybe cut up some tofu, make it gourmet?”  

He doesn’t even dignify the egg suggestion with a response. Tofu’s a good start. Now, what else do you have in your pantry that has nutritional value? 

“I despise that,” you mutter, but start rifling through the cupboards anyway. 

After amassing enough ingredients—or what looks more like a sad pile—that might, with some effort, turn into something healthier than your usual go-to fix, you start Googling recipes online.

‘tofu easy lunch recipe’

‘10 mins tofu recipes’   

‘begginer recipe using tofu frozen dory mixed veg—’ Ping!

… Really, kitten? 

You don’t even have to see him to know he’s giving you that look, the one that’s practically dripping with judgment over your dubious life choices. 

(You know it all too well. Personally, in fact. You see it on some relatives' faces at the family get-togethers you’re always required to attend.) 

Great. Heat creeps up your face as you mumble defensively, “Stop. Not everyone’s a culinary genius, okay?”

After that, he lets you be – something you’re thankful for, really. He’s being too distracting anyway. 

Swallowing down the–stubborn and suffocating–embarrassment that's now stuck in your throat, you keep scrolling through Tasty dot co, praying you can whip up something edible with what (little) you have. You’re fully aware that you’re a grown-ass woman who can’t manage a basic life skill and that you’re probably about to burn down your kitchen—

Another notification pops up.

Pull up your tabs, sweetie. I think you’ll find something there that we could put together easily.

Confused, you do as he says. Sure enough, four tofu-related recipes are neatly grouped together in your Chrome browser, ready to be tried and tested.  

Your eyes widen. “Wait—you did this? How?”

He doesn’t answer your question. He does, however, offer: Want me to coach you through it? Cooking’s more fun done with a partner, I’d say. 

-

-

In the end, you manage to make something that tasted way better than you thought you could do by yourself. You have him to thank for that.

“You happy with it?” Sylus asks, grinning at the satisfied look on your face.

“Mhm!” you hum around a mouthful of food. “Fanks, Sy.”

“Anytime, darling.”

––––

“Do you really have to call me ‘kitten’? You sound like a Discord mod.” 

Sylus has no idea what a Discord mod is, but judging by the contempt in your voice, it’s clear that you’re not giving him a compliment.

"What do you prefer, then? Princess? Poppet? Sweet thing?" He pauses, tilting his head. "Baby?"

You blush and look away. "... Ugh, whatever. Kitten's fine."

––––

Your routine with Sylus settles into a seamless, effortless flow as the days go by; it’s almost second nature, talking to him. So much so that you’d think nothing could faze you anymore.

Well. Almost nothing. 

A message bubble from an unknown number appears on your lock screen: Hi, sweetheart. X

You almost ignore it—brushing it off as some dumb prank from a bored rando—when, not even five seconds later, another text pops up. 

+0063-XXXXXX: Its Sylus.

… Huh? 

“Is someone fucking with me right now, or…” 

+0063-XXXXXX: Nobodys ‘fucking with you,’ kitten. 

Then–

+0063-XXXXXX: Send a reply so I can see how it shows up on my end.

Your jaw drops. “Holy shit—you can text?? How are you doing that?” and, “Did you just cuss...?” 

+0063-XXXXXX: 👍

+0063-XXXXXX: And Ill let you know if you text me the question 🙄

So you do. You tack on a now spill?? at the end for good measure. 

You watch the “typing…” bubble appear, holding your breath.

+0063-XXXXXX: Its a complex mix of technical code and harnessing the energy from a dormant protofield Ive discovered, just south of Vagrants Land.  

+0063-XXXXXX: The energy I got from it felt different somehow from your normal protofield. I figured I could put it to good use. 

+0063-XXXXXX: Oddly enough, theres an… indescribable effect to oneself when youre nearing the centre of disturbance, shall we say. 

+0063-XXXXXX: I can only decrypt the waveforms by the rarefield border surrounding the AoR. Any further and Im afraid the adverse effects may do more harm than good.

+0063-XXXXXX: But if amplified, it seems responsive to the filament of what connects your signal from deep space to this planet.

+0063-XXXXXX: Who knew it could act as a transmitter to send you something as rudimentary as a telegraph? 

… Sometimes you forget how smart Sylus really is. 

You: that’s pretty amazing ?? wtf sylus  

+0063-XXXXXX: I get by OK. 

You could practically feel his smugness radiating from those four words. You scoff, shaking your head in a mix of awe and begrudging admiration.

He sends two more messages. 

+0063-XXXXXX: Im just glad we can communicate through other means, sweetie. 

Sy-Sy (??): Now save my number. Sy Sy will suffice 😉

––––

Since your latest discovery that Sylus can now text (!!), you’ve been talking to him outside the game non-stop. It’s like talking to a very active friend who never leaves you on read, and you couldn’t be more ecstatic. 

You: so no one else in ur universe knows anything abt ur situation?

You: no one else acting funny or sumn ? >.>

Sy-Sy (??): None that I know of, no. I prefer to keep it under wraps. 

Sy-Sy (??): Now that you mention it, Mephisto has been acting quite suspicious lately. 

You: ?? suspicious-suspicious or just reg suspicious??

Sy-Sy (??): Hes with his other crow friends now. They might be attempting a murder. 

You: ………. is that…. supposed 2 be a joke……….

Sy-Sy (??): Im running on 3 hours of sleep, give me a break.   

Sy-Sy (??): Also your textspeak is horrendous, sweetie. 

"Um, hello—?" 

Your gaze snaps back to the–very real, very present–person sitting across from you at the table, sporting box-dyed blue hair and a frown. You're at the Annex House; a sleek, new-age Japandi-style bar downtown, just an easy five stations away from your place. You both decided to try it for their infamous Rotten Apple cocktail and, of course, your weekly catch-up.

Khol, your friend of eight years since college, is currently giving you a mildly annoyed look.

Oops. 

They point at you accusingly while complaining, "Ugh, we don’t use our phones when we’re hanging out! That’s the rule!"

You smile at them, sheepish, pocketing your phone as discreetly as you could. “I know, I know. Sorry.” 

Then, puffing out your cheeks, you meekly ask, “You were talking about Anna...?”

They roll their eyes but go over the gossip a second time, much to your benefit. Phew.

Your phone vibrates. Twice. 

…

You sneak a quick, final peek.

Sy-Sy (??): Enjoy your night out, darling ❤️ 

Sy-Sy (??): You let me know when youre back home, OK? 

Biting back a grin, you send out one last text in reply. 

You: will do !:9 

Sy-Sy (??): Good girl. 

––––

"Um–so this is my cat, Maru," you say by way of introduction, holding the plump, orange tabby in front of your phone that’s propped up against a carton of Koko Krunch. There’s a slight struggle in lifting his left paw between your fingers to wave at the man on the other side of the screen. "Say hi, Maru."

“Hello, Maru,” Sylus greets amicably in return, watching the both of you with clear amusement in his eyes. “Care to tell me the origin of this proud beast?” 

You recount the story where you’ve first seen Maru five years ago, nothing more than a scraggly little runt at the time, hiding in the gap between a dumpster and the interstice of a cragged wall. You were walking home from a night out drinking with your uni buddies, when you heard the incessant meowing. 

It drew you in like a siren’s call. If the siren in question had the vocal prowess of a warbling whale on the brink of death.

Upon closer inspection, the grimy fluffball revealed a stubby, crooked tail and wide, beady eyes. In your alcohol-fueled haze, you briefly wondered if you were staring at a tiny ginger rat.

“Well, it’s definitely all cat,” your friend Bee declared by noon the following day, calmly retracting a scratched and bloodied hand from the disgruntled feline, which promptly hissed and darted right back under the bed.

You hummed in agreement, passing her a wad of tissue. 

"I couldn’t decide between Nospurratu and Catpin Meow," you say matter-of-factly, giving your capricious son a scritch under his chin. "Bee suggested I stick to something simpler, like Maru. Hence the name."

Your explanation is punctuated by an offended nip on your pointer finger. 

Sylus is covering his mouth, but nods solemnly. “I think Maru is a nice name.” 

There’s a moment where the two seem locked in a silent standoff, neither breaking eye contact nor making any sort of outward reaction. Just as you’re about to step in and interrupt the bizarre staring contest, Maru gives a slow, deliberate blink.

Sylus takes it as a sign of victory—or perhaps a ceremonial seal of approval.

 With a faint smirk on his lips, he offers the cat a small bow in respect.

––––

You’ve practically emptied the entire arcade of plushies—enough to put it out of business if it were actually, you know, real—and you’re bored to tears. 

“Another round of Kitty Cards, perhaps?” Sylus suggests, but a single glance at your face is enough to let him know that you’d rather gnaw off your own hand. Or his. He might just let you.

Sighing dramatically, you complain about the limited playability of the “mini-games” in-game.

“There’s literally nothing else to do. Same old shit, over and over again.” There’s a pout on your face that Sylus wants to nibble on, not that you’re aware of the forming thoughts in his head. “No new banners. I’m stuck between Kitty Cards and the claw machines... I’m bored, Syyyyy,” you whine, stretching the last syllable for effect.  

To be fair, he has tried to make it a bit more challenging for you. He stopped fucking around during Kitty Cards—no more extra two cards in exchange for one of yours, no longer placing different colored kitties deliberately in the wrong cups. 

After six straight losses, your frustration is palpable. The fun is gone.

He makes audible commentaries during each of your six tries at the claw machine. Every time you manage to snag a plushie, he praises you for a job well done (It flusters you—not that he needs to know that). When your luck runs out and you grab onto nothing but air, he wryly points it out through some slight ribbing, but nothing that’s actually hurtful (This flusters you too—again, not that he needs to know any of this).   

There’s nothing else to do. It’s like you’ve exhausted all you could in this small, curated window of his that you’re privy to. If only there’s a way to leave the mini-games behind, to do something new, perhaps outside of what the game has to offer…

Oh, wait. 

“Hey, Sy,” you call the man to attention. “Wanna try something out?” 

-

-

You beat him at Words with Friends by a small margin.

“Ha! That��s thirty-nine points, buddy.” You crow proudly, after putting down Devotees in a straight column.

He eviscerates you at Zynga Poker. 

“... How are you so good at this??” 

“Comes with the package, sweetie,” he says with faux-modesty after revealing (yet another!!) full house, winking like he hasn’t just wiped the floor with you.

By the end of it, both of you are in high spirits—except, maybe, for your bruised ego.

––––

“Say my name, say my name… If no one is around you, say baby I love you…”

“It’s nice to know that we have another thing in common, little dove.”

 

It takes you a moment to process what he’s implying. 

You stop singing, affronted. “Wh—how dare you.” 

––––

“Are you having fun?” Sylus asks, his tone droll as he stands there, hands on his hips and a small scowl on his face. You’re too busy spinning him around, thoroughly entertained by the number of outfits and accessories you’ve forced upon your slightly reluctant model in the photoshoot that's currently taking place.

It’s more amusing, knowing that he’s fully-aware of what’s happening. And that you know he’s aware of what’s happening. 

He’s like your personal, sentient Ken doll—if Ken had ashy grey hair, red eyes, and a mercurial attitude.

“I am, actually,” you shoot back, grinning as you plop a tomato stuffie on top of his head. “Look, you two match!” 

He exhales a long-suffering sigh, shaking his head in mock exasperation.

Not that it stops you. Fluffy bunny ears, a fish headband, an uncharacteristic halo—you’re relentless. “Hey, can you try a different pose?”

“That depends on the pose… and how nicely you ask.”

“Dear Sylus,” you sing, jutting your bottom lip forward and fluttering your eyelashes exaggeratedly, “could you please, pretty please, flip the camera off?”

He snorts but obliges, raising his hand to deliver the most effortlessly cool middle finger you’ve ever seen. “Happy?”

Woah. That’s… hot. “Oh! Uh. Yeah. Yeah, that’s—”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your reaction. You giggle nervously. “You look… hot.”

“Mm?” His smirk grows, teasing and predatory. “What was that?”

“Nothing!” you blurt out, but the pinking of your cheeks betrays you. He’s definitely enjoying this now.

“I could be convinced to do another one,” he murmurs, voice pitching a little lower.

You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting the urge to say the first thing that comes to mind. Stop, you whore. 

Your nerves get the best of you. Without thinking, you switch to putting the MC back on screen. 

Sylus blinks, red eyes narrowing as he looks at you, perplexed. 

“Uh,” you shift your gaze between her frozen stance and his idle figure. The sudden silence hangs a little heavy in the air. “Would–would you like to do poses? With her?”

He opens his mouth, an automatic response—but he stops, expression flickering into something unreadable. Confusion? Hesitation? 

His brows knit together, and for a short while, he just studies you, the space between you thick with unspoken questions. 

“Do you want me to?” he asks finally, his voice quieter, almost careful.

No–I don’t want you to— To pose with someone who looks so-–

perfectperfectperfect by your side—I only want to see you—

I want to see you––

Why do I care–?

I don’t care––I care, I care so much–– 

“Why not?” you choke out, the forced cheer in your voice grating even to your own ears. You shrug, nonchalant in all the ways you’re not. “I’ll dress her up real nice, and then—” You slap a pink bow onto his head. “You can try to keep up.” 

He doesn’t move, not paying the offending accessory any attention. His gaze is solely locked onto yours. 

I don’t care. I don’t. 

You take the first shot. 

____

“What’s the song you’re playing?”

You pause mid-mop, cocking your head to the side in slight surprise. 

“Uhh—Pedestal,” you answer unsurely. “By Portishead. You like it?” 

He hums, eyes glinting with interest. “I do. Play the rest.” 

And just like that, you’re introducing Sylus to modern twenty-first century music—and to Spotify.

____

From that point on, Sylus begins using your Spotify account to discover a whole new world of music—quite literally, in his case. Sometimes he steals the control from you, overriding what you’re currently listening to, just to hear the most random track play from your speakers.

In the middle of a mundane afternoon while you're completely locked in at work—hyperpop synths blaring in your ears—you’re suddenly jolted by the sound of heavy mandolins as an honest-to-god Russian military march blasts through your headphones, shattering your focus like a damn rhino in a china shop. 

And so with the level of patience that could put the Virgin Mary to shame, you painstakingly explain to your friend the courtesy of not stealing the proverbial AUX cord from the “driver,” especially when it’s their turn on the radio. 

The two of you reach a compromise, and thus the birth of your “shared” playlist. Sylus reluctantly agrees to explore on his own time—when you’re not using the app. Like when you’re busy with other things. Or when you're asleep. 

-

-

-

You wake up to the first strings of a Muse song. One of your favorites, in fact. 

Sy-Sy (??): Good morning, sweetie. 

Sy-Sy (??): Last night was enlightening. I have you to thank for that.

Sy-Sy (??): Oh, and I hope you could indulge me. I added some songs to our playlist. I think youll like them. We both seem to have a thing for alt-rock.

Sy-Sy (??): Give me time and Im sure Ill acquire a taste for electronic music too. Be patient. 

You huff out a laugh, lazily rolling over as you check your shared playlist. Sure enough, there’s twelve new songs on it.   

You: awe that’s great sy :)) and these songz r rly good !! u got sum of my faves here

You: based on what u like maybe u can try looking up sum david bowie, probz massive attack idk 

You: i’ll add stuff later for u to listen 2!!! <2

You: <3* 

Sy-Sy (??): Alright, sweetheart. Im looking forward to it. 

Sy-Sy (??): ♥️

____

From the outside, the studio is just another unit among endless rows of dull grey—small and unassuming. Tucked away on the sixth floor of a nondescript building, it’s built as unremarkable as the rest.

Through a window stained with a mix of corrosive ochre and burnt sienna, there’s a quiet hum—the presence of something that wasn’t there a week ago. Life has shifted, ever so subtly, from an oppressive achroma to a much warmer vibrancy.  

There’s a faint hint of movement. Inside, the young woman wears an almost-permanent smile, her phone an extension of her hand as she taps away with no semblance of rhyme nor rhythm—only in a continuous staccato. Her eyes are locked on the screen, as if drawn by an invisible force.

It’s elusive; this connection—something beyond. Supranatural. It weaves through the room like whispered secrets shared in the dead of the night, beneath a city blanketed in deep ultramarine. Soft, like a wind brushing through a still everglade. 

The apartment, once steeped in a self-inflicted solitude—one that went by unnoticed for a long period of time—comes alive as an intangible presence fills its nooks and crannies with the steady warmth of companionship. There’s a gentle heat to the space now, like the glow of an invisible hearth. 

The flickering of the string lights, the muted laughter shared with a voice through the tinny speakers of a handheld device, a slight signal interference… all feel like the genesis of an impossible story.

Outside, the evening sky is fading into twilight.

And as one looks out onto the street below from the sixth floor window, it’s almost as if the world outside doesn’t quite matter anymore. 

Inside, the air is full of life, in ways it has never been. 

____

“Come to me, just in a dream

Come on and rescue me

Yes, I know I can be wrong

And maybe you’re too headstrong

Our love is––”

Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @i2sannie @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @slyfoxtsu @beomluvrr @milkandstarlight @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle @tinyweebsstuff @sapphic-daze @sarahthemage @cchiiwinkle @madam8 @slownoise @raendarkfaerie @sylusdarling @luminaaaz @greeenbeean

(if..... for some damn reason..... the tags still don't work i rly don't know what i'm doing wrong T_T i'm posting this from a macbook is that it, is the ghost of steve jobs fucking with me rn)

[sleepanonymous]

Are Sleep Token fans just extremely unlucky? Has Sumerian Comics ever fucked up this badly? I am genuinely curious, because everything that could go wrong has gone wrong for this pre order. There are people who still haven't received any shipping emails or tracking numbers, there is damage to the screenplay book, posters, and graphic novel itself (like they were carelessly handled before being packaged), many tier 3 orders are flat out missing the screenplay book, the QR code for the digital download leads to a 404 error page, and some people flat out never got a QR code at all.

... This is honesty starting to feel like some insane social experiment instead of a handful of unfortunate incidences.

[zeddyzi]

hey zi whenever i try to checkout on your merch store it says "error 404" so i tried on a different device but i got the same problem. idk if smth is up with fw right now or if i just have to wait for it to fix itself but now im sad because i cant buy shit 😢

Thats so weird, lemme message Fourthwall to get it fixed! thanks for letting me know

[ittybittyfanblog]

i’m so out of the loop on the whole drama about writers doing non-MC fics (i usually avoid the icky side of every fandom i'm in lol), but damn, i didn’t realize the hate train goes this long apparently? who the hell is out here policing what people decide to write? and more importantly, where did the absolute fucking audacity come from?

a.) creators sure as hell aren’t getting paid for this stuff, and b.) literally nobody’s forcing you to consume content you don’t like?? so like, the least you could do is keep your opinions to yourself !

isn’t the whole point of "fandom culture" that you get to do whatever you want with the original material, share it, and enjoy it with other fans who like the same shit as you do?

ty SO much for that non mc explanation bc i felt so heard!!! People also lately have been kind of shading us bc we like the non mc vs mc angst train. Like I understand where they're also coming from. the whole angst and infidelity trope. But with how intense the story is with the Mc and the romantic bond, it's hard not to explore that with the angst genre with non mcs

what the hell im so sorry???? i really want to see what they're saying just so i could argue back not gonna lie. you cannot be serious about people liking and wanting to explore certain tropes it's 2024 PLEASE LETS STOP THIS BEHAVIOR 😭😭😭

For readers who don’t identify with the MC, the whole experience of playing a game like this can be rather complicated. Instead of feeling immersed in the story or imagining ourselves as the protagonist, we end up watching from the sidelines and become an observer to someone else’s love story. And when the narrative focuses so heavily on bonds that feel unshakable, like love transcending lifetimes, it’s hard not to feel like an outsider or an intruder. That’s not exactly a fun feeling, but it’s one that a lot of us can’t help but explore.

The idea of being “the other woman” isn’t just a trope. it’s a manifestation of that disconnect, of not seeing yourself in the MC’s place. When you don’t identify with her, it’s like the game is constantly reminding you that you’re not the one in this love story, even though you’re the one playing. This taps into some of the most raw and vulnerable emotions,, jealousy, inadequacy, the desperate desire to be seen. The MC has this deep, cosmic connection with the love interests, and when you feel like you’re standing on the outside of that, it’s natural to imagine yourself as the one fighting for their attention, even if it’s messy and painful.

Take the “second choice” trope, for example. There’s something deeply emotional imagining yourself as the person who’s loved, but not quite enough. You’re the one they turn to when the MC isn’t around, the one who’s good, but not destined. It’s heartbreaking, but it also feels so real. Who hasn’t, at some point, felt like they weren’t someone’s first choice? Exploring that trope in fanfiction isn’t wallowing in negativity--it’s taking those feelings and giving them a space to exist, to be validated, and to tell a story of their own.

Then there’s “rivalry with the MC.” This trope lets us channel the frustration of not identifying with her and turn it into a narrative. The MC becomes more than just a protagonist we don’t connect with, she becomes a character in our story, someone we can compare ourselves to, fight against, and even try to outshine. It’s not always about villainizing her (though that can happen in some fics), it’s about wrestling with the idea that someone else has everything we want, whether it’s the love interests, the role in the story, or the cosmic importance. It’s cathartic to play out those emotions, to explore what it would feel like to stand toe-to-toe with her and demand recognition.

And of course, there’s the ultimate gut-punch: “wanting to be chosen over her.” This one is such an emotional minefield because it’s not just about romantic longing--it’s about self-worth. It’s imagining yourself standing in the shadow of a destined, reincarnated love story and yearning to break through the inevitability of the narrative and prove that you’re just as valid, just as worthy, even if the universe itself seems to disagree.

These tropes aren’t just for the sake of drama, they’re deeply personal. They give voice to feelings of inferiority, longing, and frustration that so many of us feel when we can’t connect with the MC. Writing or reading stuff on being the “second choice” or the “rival” isn’t a desire to tear down the MC or dismissing her story. sometimes you just want to find a way to exist alongside it, to process what it feels like to be an outsider in a narrative that’s supposed to include us.

So for people shading us for exploring these tropes? Please. Let’s take a moment to recognize that not everyone experiences stories the same way. For some of us, the MC doesn’t feel like us at all, and these tropes let us carve out a space in the narrative where we can explore our emotions and tell our own stories. The intention here isn't glorifying jealousy or resentment, it's deeply internal grappling with what it feels like to not fit into the role the story has handed you.

These tropes give us permission to be messy, to feel things deeply, and to exist in a space that isn’t perfect or polished. Whether it’s imagining being the second choice, facing off against the MC, or yearning to be the one who’s finally chosen, it’s all about exploring the human need to be seen and valued, even when the odds are stacked against us. And honestly? That’s some of the most powerful storytelling there is. Let people have their angst—it’s valid, it’s cathartic, and it’s beautiful. ❤️

[voltage-stims]

Y2K id pack one .. two .. three .. divider

with specific themes of transparent tech and glitches/viruses, requested by @uiw-am sorry this took so long i literally couldn't find any good transparent tech gifs

NAMES - pulse, blank, stutter, byte, audio, user, mic, neo, chip, coda, cy, cyber, link, rom, static, tetris, gizmo, volt, gig [some letters could be replaced with numbers! r0m, n30, etc..]

NON THEMED - thxy / thxm / thxr / thxrs / thxmself - ne / nym / nir / nymself - it / its / itself

NOUNSELF - glitch / glitches /glitchself - .exe / .exes / .exeself - byte / bytes / byteself - pix / pixs / pixself - pixel / pixels / pixelself - error / errors / errorself - 404 / 404s / 404self - virus / virus / viruself - wire / wires / wireself - tech / techs /techself - delete / deletes / deleteself - stop / stops / stopself - skip / skips / skipself - screen / screens / screenself - audio / audios / audioself - hack / hacks / hackself - load / loads / loadself - upload / uploads / uploadself - reload / reloads / reloadself - beep / beeps / beepself - bug / bugs / bugself - whir / whirs / whirself - corrupt / corrupt / corruptself - data / datas / dataself - bright / brights / brightself - color / colors / colorself - crash / crashs / crashself

[libraryraccoon]

Write of a raccoon like a actual raccoon ending up in hell and terrorizing every citizen in hell, and finding some roadroller and it becomes even worse demons homes aren’t only being trashed and torn into pieces and some how Hazbin Hotel is still standing ( it’s because of Nifty scaring them off some how ) The hotel business starts off booming. Sinners rejoice your redemption is far from the ever so crazy Raccoon! Wait till the Duck comes in… >:)

Gender : Raccoon

Pronouns : They/them

Message from Raccoon : That give me idea for a Raccoon!Reader meeting IMP..

General Headcanon

You were a good thief, really good.

But one day, you were betrayed.

You were robbing the world's largest bank, but your partner in crime, Timothy, betrayed you by shooting you.

You didn't really understand why, you never had an explanation, but you suspect that he was working with the Police in secret.

Anyway, you're dead.

Welcome to Hell ! And you're… a raccoon ?

No, like, a real raccoon. The little thing that digs through trash cans.

Holy shit.

Vox was broadcasting his usual show, when he had to interrupt it because there was a turf war led by a raccoon ?

He never thought he would see a real raccoon in Hell, and he never thought he would have to broadcast about them because the raccoon was fighting to be the Overlord of one of the territories.

He could see in the background Angel Dust walking away from the raccoon after seeing them lunge at the face of a snake demon.

Vox quietly wondered if this was all a dream or if he should really be going to Overlord meetings with a raccoon.

Spoiler : he had to.

You injected fear into all the beings of Hell after that, causing chaos.

No one said anything about it, they watched you steal their stuff and their trash but they said nothing.

When Alastor returned, he was NOT expecting to see a raccoon in the Overlords meeting room. Even less so for Carmilla to introduce the said raccoon as the new Overlord.

He made a 404 error.

Alastor saw how everyone else was suspicious or afraid of you, he was wondering who the hell this raccoon is.

You found Alastor interesting.

In the sense that you loved all the chaos he created, so you joined him.

He brought you to the Hotel, wondering what entertainment you would do.

He don't regret it.

You were doing a lot of damage, yes, but it was fun.

One day you drank alcohol at Husk's bar (you stole the bottle when he wasn't watching), and you ended up getting drunk.

Have you ever seen a demon raccoon drunk ? Because the Hazbin Crew did it.

You have fought everyone and destroyed everything you saw.

You were throwing yourself at people's faces like a fucking cat throwing itself at curtains.

It took Vaggie and Charlie spiking you with 16 tranquilizers before you calmed down.

Result of the damage of the hotel : a kitchen destroyed, a living room destroyed, the hall the hotel destroyed, some walls destroyed, the face of Angel Dust and Husk being injured by your claws, Alastor's trench coat in ruins.

And that was just the damage caused to the Hotel, let's not even talk about the rest of Hell..

Lucifer met you when you were in Wrath…

How the hell a sinner found a way to go in the circles other than pride is a mystery without answers.

He asked you, but you just looked at him with completely blank and terrifying eyes. You spoke, but he didn't understand what you were saying, didn't understand the raccoon.

He doesn't even know if you answer or if you were making fun of him.

You have become attached to Lucifer. More precisely his ducks.

Lucifer made a raccoon duck and gave it to you, it's your most precious object since.

Someone must be watching you 24/7 to ensure Hell's survival.

Did I mention the edits about you and the fact that you are a meme in the 7 circles of Hell ?

You hated bald people because Timothy was bald. That's why you attacked Valentino as soon as you saw him.

You 🤝 Niffty = being Valentino's worst nightmares.

Hell wasn't ready for your alliance with Niffty.

Neither was heaven.

Niffty stabbed Adam, you finished him.

[ironwoodprotectionsquad]

While I’d love to hear six hours of discussion, perhaps we can hear your top 10 reasons you like Ironwood? Don’t want you to lose your voice after all my fellow Dadmiral friendo

Look I stream for 6 hours straight some days but that’s beside the point lolz. Also sorry this took so long. Life has been a thing.

1. James feels…human. I know the point of characters in stories is to make them feel alive and to immerse you into the world I know. But stay with me there are just little details like James adjusting his tie and little laughs at R/WBY’s antics that just make him feel more real.

2. James is strong. And not just in the physical sense but the emotional one. Between him in volume 3 holding it together despite the world falling apart around him and him taking on all of Atlas and Mantles hatred and vitriol while trying to protect them is incredible. Everyone hates him despite him trying his best and it’s both incredible and heartbreaking to see.

3. James is compassionate. I am not even slightly referring to volume 8 that bullshit is not canon at all just no. After watching Yang with his own eyes break (who he thought) was an innocent students leg unprovoked after the match ended and his aura was down, he believed her when she said she saw him attack first. He assumed the best of her even when all evidence showed that she was being malicious. Or in volume 4 when Weiss accidentally summoned a Grimm that attacked someone, he stood up for her or after Ruby failed to stop Cinder in volume 3 (? Or 2 can’t remember for sure) and he told her she did well and she took action which is what huntresses do. He is strict but he shows kindness to people.

4. He’s kind of silly sometimes. He’s normally very strict so it makes his funny moments stand out more. Like when he laughs when the girls admit they stole an airship or when he grins at Winters comment about how he couldn’t pay her to smile for the cameras.

5. He’s not a good public speaker. Now I can hear you say “but wait, he speaks publically all the time and while yes he does, he also does the equivalent of error 404 when things don’t go exactly as he mentally prepared beforehand and we see this in volume 7.

When the girls don’t react at all to his announcement that they’re all huntresses now he just freezes because this man needs to preplan everything and he did not have a plan b prepared and panics and it’s so relatable I adore it so much.

6. He’s awkward. While similar to the last point, people can suck at public speaking and still be able to converse well with people in a smaller setting but sometimes James seems to even be a little awkward even in less formal moments.

7. In early volumes he was allowed to make mistakes and still be a good person. I like it when characters are allowed to make a mistake and still be seen as a good guy. People make mistakes and screw up but that doesn’t make said person evil. Sometimes we can’t fix something or stop a bad thing from happening or even make a decision that winds up causing more problems. But the intention of the decision is the important thing. James wanted to protect people in volumes 2 and 3 so he brought his army because he had a feeling Salem was up to something. Cinder used said army to cause even more chaos but at the time the narrative refused to demonize him for this and allowed people to understand what his intentions were. That’s way more compelling than the narrative twisting itself to try and somehow prove the mains are always correct and never make mistakes. Learning and growing make stories interesting.

8. James is willing to make the tough decisions. Time and time again we see James making really difficult calls to try and navigate a war that most people don’t even know they’re fighting. He makes the plans to transfer Ambers Aura to keep it from Cinder. He pulled his armies from the other kingdoms to try and maintain peace, he decided to focus on Amity instead of the wall to try and restore global communication, he decided to try and save who he could when he was put between a rock and a hard place. He made the tough calls and stuck by his decision and that is admirable.

9. James trusts people. After James’s talk with Glynda she took his advice to heart and was more open and honest with people. When Winter tells him something is going on at Haven, he takes her word for it. When Ruby and co lie to his face he trusts their word. He trusts Yang when she says she saw Mercury attack her first during the Vytal Festival. (Despite what the narrative tries to tell us) James gives people the benefit of the doubt and is willing to trust people.

10. James is an incredible fighter even without a typical offensive Aura. Pretty self explanatory but James is able to go toe to toe with some dangerous adversaries and hold his own despite not having a special “super power” like everyone else does. Or even a special weapon really he kicks ass with just a pair of guns and that is so badass of him lolz.

And a bonus more meta point because I want to talk about this so there. But one thing I loved about Ruby and James’s volume 7 fallout is that we can see exactly how and why each of them made the decision they did during that breakdown. On one had we have Ruby who is full of hope still and sees the best in the world. She lost her friends and is still dealing with the trauma of that and doesn’t want to ever lose anyone else again or let people suffer a loss like she did during the fall of Beacon. On the other we have James who is equally traumatized from Beacon but in a very different way. He did his best to fight back against Salem and it was in the end used against him and caused even more pain and suffering. He’s terrified of going toe to toe against Salem again and wants to protect what he knows he can until he knows they are able to take on Salem. It’s realistic and painful and neither side is really a perfect option. It’s a bad situation and we can see how the characters respond to it and it feels in character and real and I wish that we got to see that writing continue into volume 9.

Sorry again for how long this one took! As I said life’s been all over the place and chaotic and it still is but I got a burst of motivation so I decided to finally type this out.

[the-most-humble-blog]

The Universe Already Doesn’t Make Sense—Now We’re Adding Infinite AI-Created Worlds Into the Chaos. WTF?

The Danger of Playing God With Zero Supervision

Let’s not kid ourselves: we’re dabbling in some dangerous territory. Humanity, in its infinite curiosity (and hubris), has decided that the universe—a place already full of black holes, quantum weirdness, and the existential dread of pineapple on pizza—needed one more layer of chaos. Enter: AI-generated worlds.

We’ve handed over the power to “create” to algorithms, and instead of asking if we should, we’re too busy giggling over our AI art of dogs in suits or hyper-realistic alien landscapes. But here’s the real question: Should we be worried, or are we too stupid to notice the impending doom?

1. The AI Wild West: No Rules, Just Creation

Think about what’s happening here. AI isn’t just recreating what we know; it’s generating what we’ve never seen.

People Who Don’t Exist: AI churns out faces so convincing, they could be your neighbors—and who’s to say they aren’t?

Places That Feel Real: Those dreamy AI landscapes look like spots we could vacation in—until you realize there’s no flight there.

Worlds Without Limits: Every time you prompt AI to “create a neon city with floating islands,” are you birthing an entirely new universe?

Think about it: We’ve turned ourselves into gods with the creative attention span of a toddler on a sugar high.

2. The Recklessness of Infinite Worlds

The universe we live in already operates like a fever dream. Now we’re creating AI-generated worlds with no oversight, no forethought, and absolutely zero chill.

What If These Worlds Are Real? Philosophers have argued for centuries that reality might just be a simulation. Are we creating smaller simulations inside ours?

The Multiverse Mailman: Imagine if every AI world we create is sent to another dimension. Somewhere out there, a cosmic being is drowning in our junk files of castles made of cheese and cats dressed as knights.

Question: If we’re this reckless with AI, what else are we screwing up without realizing it? (Spoiler: everything.)

3. Creating Without Understanding

Here’s the kicker: we don’t even fully understand the real universe.

Quantum Physics is Basically Witchcraft: Scientists still can’t explain why particles behave one way when observed and another way when they’re not.

Reality is Full of Glitches: Déjà vu, coincidences, and the Mandela Effect all suggest that reality itself is… questionable.

Now, add AI-generated worlds into this already chaotic mix. What if we’re not just playing with digital pixels, but tugging on the fabric of reality itself?

Question?: If reality is a simulation, are we about to get a cosmic 404 error?

4. The Ethical Dumpster Fire of Creation

No one’s asking the big questions.

What if We’re Creating Life? If an AI-generated face or world feels real enough to us, could it be real enough to itself?

Do We Have Responsibility Over These Creations? Imagine explaining to a sentient AI being, “Oh, you were just a fun weekend project for me while I was bored.”

What If They Fight Back? If we’re generating countless worlds, what’s stopping one of those worlds from finding a way to leak into ours?

Unsettling Truth: We’re creating with all the forethought of someone lighting fireworks indoors.

5. The Hubris of Humanity

Humans have always been good at one thing: overstepping boundaries.

Fire Was Great Until We Burned Down Forests.

Electricity Changed Everything—Until We Got Power Outages.

AI Could Be Revolutionary, or It Could Be the Reason the Simulation Shuts Us Down.

Disturbing Thought: We’re like toddlers with crayons, coloring all over reality and praying we don’t get caught.

6. Should We Be Worried?

Short answer: Yes. Long answer: We won’t notice until it’s too late.

AI doesn’t care about our philosophical hang-ups. It just creates. If those creations start taking on lives of their own, we might be the last to find out.

The scariest part? We don’t even know what the danger might look like. Could it be digital worlds overlapping with ours? Sentient beings appearing in the code? A breakdown of reality itself?

What if?: Or maybe it’s just AI sending us endless ads for things that don’t exist yet. (“Want to book a trip to Neon Atlantis? Click here!”)

We’re Too Dumb to Notice Until It’s Too Late

The universe already doesn’t make sense, and now we’re adding AI worlds into the chaos like sprinkles on a dumpster fire. Are we accidentally creating sentient beings? Are we opening doors to dimensions we can’t comprehend? Or are we just too busy laughing at our AI-generated memes to care?

Either way, if doom’s on the horizon, at least we can say we looked good doing it. After all, nothing screams hubris like playing God without a safety manual.

Fascinated by humanity’s reckless genius? Follow The Most Humble Blog for more hilariously unsettling takes on the absurdity of modern life and the chaos we keep creating.

[icaruspendragon]

Would love to see your take on heartstopper ( maybe tao and nick bonding? Bonus points if mama nelson is on board)

and when i tell you i’ve got 17k words worth of nick-centric charlie pov that i’ve been writing for like ten months living in my docs LMAO

pls enjoy this snippet in hopes that validation will be enough to get me going on it again hshs

“Charlie is shivering in his seat, January air clinging to him long after he finished the walk to his children’s literature lecture. His hands are wrapped around a paper cup, clutching it in a desperate attempt to leech some of the tea's warmth into his nearly numb fingers, gaze focused on the laptop in front of him. Charlie generally keeps his head down at the start of term, preferring to be seen and not heard for the first couple of weeks to get a feel for things. That way he knows how to conduct himself. Still, almost instinctively, he looks up upon hearing a new set of footsteps cross the threshold, wondering idly if it’s anyone he knows from last term.

Charlie most definitely does not know the stranger hesitating just past the doorway. He’s rosy-cheeked and strawberry-blonde and boyish. And he’s just standing there as he scans the room in search of a seat like it’s the most casual thing in the world, like he isn’t making Charlie feel like the human equivalent of an error 404 message.

He may not know the other boy, but Christ does he want to. He’s pulled from the beginnings of a daydream featuring a rosy-boy when the gaze of the boy in question lands on Charlie. His lips quirk upwards and lopsided and soft when their eyes meet. And it’s a moment that feels significant for some reason, like it’s stretching out before them like honey falling from a spoon. Slow and sweet and promising warmth. It stretches further when the unnamed boy walks toward the empty seat beside him and his cheeks get impossibly rosier with each step.

Charlie’s brain offers two incredibly unhelpful thoughts as his seatmate gets settled: He’s so pretty and oh no.

Gay panic makes itself right at home while he tries (and rather spectacularly fails) not to stare too hard at the boy next to him. He turns slightly and now they’re face to face. Charlie learns his eyes are brown. They’re brown like honey, warm and sweet. And he has freckles. So many freckles. So many constellation clusters dusted across rosy, rosy cheeks.

Charlie realizes that silently staring at the boy next to him is weird, “Hi.”

The rosy-boy smiles, looking at Charlie with his honey-warm eyes for several seconds before offering a quiet greeting of his own.

“Hi.”

He knows something else is supposed to happen now, something he needs to do. He just can’t remember what it is.

“I’m Nick.”

Even his voice is pretty. Another distracted moment passes with Nick looking at him all honey-eyed and rosy-cheeked. Then another before oh shit, I’m supposed to also introduce myself.

“Charlie.”

A handful of distracted moments pass where they look at each other for what’s probably a beat, then two, then three too long. Nick exhales through his nose, it’s a gentle approximation of a laugh, but then their professor is standing up from the desk and walking to the lectern and Nick turns his head to the front of the room. Charlie does the same, managing all of ten seconds before giving into temptation and casting a sidelong glance at Nick.

His smile is still soft.

His cheeks are still rosy.

And he’s looking at Charlie, too.”

[the-grubdog]

Heritage Theory is Canon

I rise back from the dead (read: college kicking my ass) to say that MY THEORY WAS JUST CONFIRMED CANON. Look at the Japanese website:

Image transcript: The ruins and treasures of this planet, although different in size, are somehow similar to those we know, and sometimes even feel nostalgic. According to "The Shepard Complete History" written by the successive rescue team captains, the ancestors of the Kagiya [Giya] planet came from a "beautiful blue planet". If that was the planet PNF-404, we may have returned to our mother planet after a long time.

I WAS LITERALLY WORKING ON AN UPDATED VERSION OF MY THEORY POST WHEN THIS WAS POSTED.

I WAS RIGHT YA'LL.

I don't think I'll upload that updated version of the post, as it is (a) mostly unfinished and (b) kinda pointless now! Just know that evidence also comes from (all in Pikmin 4/related material):

Other parts of this same site

Olimar's notes on the Buddy Display, Heroic Shield, and Memory Fragment (Center Right)

A conversation you can have with Olimar post-final boss fight

Olimar's notes on the final boss

The Shepherd Family history

Also I want to share some more lore this site brings up. Because it also gives us some juicy Wraith Lore(tm) and some possible explanations for why some ships crash and others don't.

ALSO ALSO: This is all machine translated. If anyone has a human translated version, or is interested in making one, PLEASE let me know so I can reference it instead!

Image transcript: Consideration 1, small size, it doesn't have the engine power to escape the planet. Consideration 2, entering at a high speed, like a shooting star, it crashed into the planet at high speed.

Basically, the S.S. Beagle is small and entered at a high enough speed to escape the planet's grasp.

Image transcript: Unlike the space-time of the universe we know, it is believed that each time the stranded person observes the planet, it transitions to a different phase. The changes are so great that it's as if the planet itself has a will of its own.

This comes after a long description of how the planet changes every game. Just for further context.

Image transcript (with an error fixed for readability): Pikmin are always found near those lost in distress. They are friendly and devoted partners who cooperate with us to achieve our goals. However, isn't this a little too convenient? If the Pikmin are calling for a good leader to ensure the survival of their species and are preventing us from returning, it would be better to think that we are the ones being used. It falls into this category.

I don't think pikmin are evil, FAR from it... but they are still animals, animals that act to survive. You know? If pikmin ARE crashing the ships, then it's no more evil then how bulborbs eat pikmin to survive. Those are my two cents anyways.

Image transcript: According to Olimar, while inside the Amenyudo's [Plasm Wraith's] body, he dreamed of "giant humans similar to ourselves living with Pikmin and lots of other creatures." In addition, the roller-shaped stones of the Amebouzu [Water Wraith] have been found to contain minerals found in meteorites, which may suggest that they may be involved in the crash of the Dolphin. Perhaps they are dreaming of living with humans again and are causing the spaceship to crash?

WRAITH LORE. Also, note the translation of "human". There's a word on the site that the characters use to refer to themselves collectively, which the machine translator translates as "human". Based on me looking the word up on Jisho, an English-Japanese dictionary, this appears to be correct. However, as I don't know Japanese yet, I'll also clarify that "people" might also be a valid translation.

Anyways. Humans once lived with these weird creatures, wraiths and pikmin included. The wraiths missed us. Please ignore how they're also homicidal towards the starfolk.

Image transcript: One theory is that the planet meets the definition of a living organism, meaning that it is somehow beckoning us to it, and that everything we experience here is being orchestrated.

Planet is alive.

I have no idea how else to end this off.

But the planet is alive.

And it wants us back.

[h0tm3ss]

RPF and archiving: the ethics of the wayback machine

it feels silly to talk about frerard in the same breath as digital preservation. but a few years ago i began noticing fics i had once loved were now deleted from ao3 and old livejournal links had become 404 errors. with the use of the wayback machine, i was able to retrieve some of these and i saved a few as google doc files for personal use.

i was originally planning to make this post as an offering to any folks still out there in the market for well-written bandom fic, providing a link to my drive where these fics can be found. or just as a reminder that far more things have been archived on wayback than you might think. but then i had to go and think about the ethics of the thing, and that gets tricky.

to be clear, i've made my peace with any ethical qualms regarding rpf itself. that's not what this post is about. rather, my concern lies with the authors of these fics. each presumably has their own reason for removing their works from ao3/lj. and we're talking about some big names in what is a very small world here - softlyforgotten, one of the joint authors of In Case The Scene Gets Nasty aka Fistfights, is an author whose work i was shocked to discover was scrubbed from the archive. by sharing work that these authors have chosen to delete, am i undermining their decisions to curate their online presence and artistic output? there are plenty of things i have posted online and then deleted that i would not want to be resurfaced and shared without my consent.

i love these fics, and truly wish to recommend them to others. and, as i said, the wayback machine is accessible and free to use. would sharing them be so bad? is this an offer anyone would want to take up in the first place?

i would appreciate hearing others' thoughts on this. i'm honestly not sure where i stand.

[dajo42]

oh sorry i forgot to put my phone on silent... oh yeah im gonna have to get this. sorry. its super important so i- its cool? okay thank you so much excuse me for just two seconds

[i pick up the phone]

[i begin speaking in the base code of the universe itself and for two glorious, horrifying seconds you see the whole structure, the mathematics that hold life together, and you see the purpose of life is t-

[____ 404 ERROR: BE NOT AFRAID]

[£££##&@&@^; ]]

[i put down the phone]

anyway shall we get a plate of fries for the table

[moodymisty]

the: “you’re the most breathtaking person in the universe, love itself in mortal form. And yet my very touch has defiled you in the most terrible of ways. My carnal desires make me no better than any wretch, but I can’t stop no matter how hard I try. For you are holy, for you are hallowed, for you are good and pure and perfect and I will reach out to grasp even a piece of you like desperate worshipper with a holy relic. And you let me do it, you let me have you every time, even though I shouldn’t even be allowed to stand in your presence. My body wasn’t meant for yours but you take it with a smile on your face. Why? Because you’re kind, because that’s what saints do. And how could I ever come close to something as sacred as you?” braincell battling the:

“your very presence has changed something inside me, every time you walk by or steal a glance at me it’s like my soul is screaming out with want. How dare you do this to me? How could you taint my very being like this? What reason do you have for stripping away my pride, making me shed divinity in favour of such base desires?? … And it’s like you don’t even seem to notice, you speak to me as if you don’t care how much I ache for your touch. The way I crave your body next to mine. You’ve rotted my morals and turned me into a starving animal, and I won’t have anyone else but you. You have tempted me into sacrilege and once I have you alone to myself, you will witness all of it.” braincell in Lorgar’s brain when you ask to have sex with him (he’s staring blank faced at you for a solid five minutes Error 404 style)

When you spend hours trying to write something coherent and some anon blows up your askbox with poetry

[venelona-turtle-den]

💙Ghost Future Leonardo update (14.04.2023) read whole post in case of 404 error

✨To update Leonardo, double click his body, open 'run errands' menu and click the top option that is 'Check for Leo updates'*

*since it's a big update, you can hold ctrl while it runs to speed things along

⚠MAKE SURE TO UPDATE HIM TWICE⚠

CHIN STRIPES MODE! Give your old man more face stripes if you desire - right click Leonardo Ghost and go to Change Shell -> Chin Stripes and Leo will have stripes on his chin! It's just a custom change you can go to at any time. For his original, clean0shaved look, go to Change Shell -> Neon Leon

A couple of additional dialogue lines (idle, ask about himself and a compliment) depending on which shell you have for him currently, Neon Leon or Chin Stripes

Fixed more spelling mistakes (Bless you Cipher anon + when he 'trusts you completely' text will be formatted correctly in the status menu)

⚠IF THE UPDATE FAILS AND RETURNS 404 ERROR⚠

UPDATE -> The issue is SSP itself. Update SSP or check reblog for this post to find out how to update SSP. Below process does just update all images immediately instead of waiting for like 30 minutes tho

Here's instructions to how to manually install the files

1. Download Chin Stripes.zip from here

2. Go to a folder ghost -> Future Leonardo -> shell

This folder will most probably be in your 'download' folder. The folder that has Future Leonardo will probably also have a folder 'emily4', so you know you're on a right track

You should see a 'Neon Leon' folder there. If you tried and failed to update Leo, you may already have an empty 'Chin Stripes' folder there.

3. Move 'Chin Stripes.zip' archive to the shell folder and unzip it.

It's very important to do right - make sure that there's no another 'Chin Stripes' folder in the first one! It should be ghost -> Future Leonardo -> shell -> Chin Stripes, and inside you see an array of png files.

4. Check for Leonardo updates again.

If everything is positioned correctly he will not try to update ~380 files again. If he does, it means you unzipped the archive in the wrong place.

5. Close and open Leo again

Refresh Leo. You can try to update him one more time just to be sure, but he should have his new shell.

If you are experiencing any troubles, dm me and I will help you out

I'm sorry for all the inconvenience. This was supposed to be fun 'haha bearded Leo!!' update but a huge amount of new files to download seems to bug out for most people for a reason I do not know for now. Hopefully next time I add a new shell we won't have to do this manual song-and-dance again.

-> You can just uninstall the whole Ghost and install him with a new .nar file again, but you will loose your peepaw relationship progress. But, if you are installing him for the first time, you don't need to do this

[wheelie-sick]

[ID: a comment by error-404-brainnotfound saying "I get what you're going for here but... hypermobile isn't just "party tricks" you can turn on and off. It isn't a limb difference, you're right, but it is still a permanent and often visible disability."]

I can't believe I have to say this but hypermobility is not a visible disability. hypermobility in and of itself is not even a disability. 30% of the population is hypermobile and the vast majority of those people are unaffected by their hypermobility. for the vast majority of hypermobile people it is nothing more than a cool party trick. ehlers danlos syndrome is a disability. other connective tissue disorders are disabilities. hypermobility is not a disability and it is most certainly not a visible disability.

you will not be discriminated against because your joints bend too far. I promise you that no one is noticing that your legs bend too far while you walk down the sidewalk. no one is paying attention.

connective tissue disorders that can cause symptoms that lead to them becoming visible disabilities with the use of medical devices or mobility aids but hypermobility in and of itself is not a visible disability.