#I actually forget how to tag things

[ossumarts]

BACK ON MY BULLSHIT

I DECIDED I NEED TO POST A LOT MORE THAN I DO SO

FLIPS HAIR YOU GET THESE THINGS

[the-great-papyru]

i think the thing a lot of papyrus takes get wrong is that they forget that, among other things, papyrus is funny. in my experience writing papyrus, i often find the most funny line is the most in-character one. an unfunny papyrus doesn’t ever feel like an accurate papyrus to me. it’s more than part of the game, it’s part of his character. and disregarding that is what messes up a lot of otherwise good impressions of him.

[vypridae]

voxtek says happy pride

[moralcandy]

fifteen things that don't come back, by charlie slimecicle:

number one. the paper airplane you and your daughter throw at your husband while his back is turned in the kitchen, the two of you hiding behind the counter as you snicker quietly when he stops humming and yelps a curse as he turns around with a faux angry expression and a poorly-hidden smile.

number two. the glass your daughter broke trying to grab it from the cabinet on her tippy-toes. you didn't look over until you heard the glass shatter against the kitchen floor, too preoccupied with grabbing the jug of cold orange juice from the fridge to notice until it was too late. golden, afternoon sunlight shone warmly on the both of you from the open window as you swept it up while she stood to the side with a sheepish expression.

number three. your husband's soft shirt he let you borrow when you said you couldn't find your own but really you just quickly shoved yours under the bed when he wasn't looking. you absently noted that it smelled like him. your lips curved into a slight smile without input. your foot shoved your shirt under the bed a little bit farther.

number four. the pictures you took of your daughter and niece, hugging eachother as they posed for the camera, the photo incinerated into ash when you blew up your house. you frantically dug through your daughter's chest afterwards, soot covering your hands as you searched for the photograph. you did not find it.

number five. your niece.

number six. the feeling of a cold glass of wine held tipsily in your hand, the waterdrop of condensation slipping down the glass at the same pace your tears did down your cheeks. you downed the alcohol until there was nothing left except a burning feeling and a lump in your throat. the bartender did not give you another drink.

number seven. your friend, the one who used to laugh hysterically with you as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders before he began to scream at you while he wrapped his hands around your neck. he pushed you into the dirt, the metallic taste of blood in your mouth and the feeling of wet dirt on your skin as you absently question whether the water dripping on your face was the rain or the tears slipping down your friend's face. you know that was the funeral of your children, but you think both of the real 'you's died that day, too.

number eight. the warm, rumbling feeling of laughter in your chest as a smile hurts your cheeks, the sensation long gone. your mouth, for a moment, twitches into a small smile at the memory of the feeling.

number nine. the feeling of hands on your own, your husband's warm hands intertwined with yours as your cold, golden rings clink against eachother. your daughter's tiny hand clasped around yours as she leads you to a butterfly she found, grass brushing your ankles as you walk.

ten. the sound of your daughter's amused laughter, snorts interrupting occasionally. her head leans back as she giggles, her eyes scrunched up in happiness.

eleven. the sound of your husband's soothing voice, lilting with fondness as he looks at you. a smile absently crosses his face as he speaks, audible in his voice. you always remember smiling back.

twelve. your golden wedding band your husband lovingly slipped onto your ring finger so long ago, the one you furiously tossed into a dusty corner with particularily bad aim. you blame the poor aim on the tears blurring your vision, but it could've been the alcohol, really.

thirteen. your husband. you try to go to sleep in the center of your bed now, knowing that he won't be there. when you wake up, you always find yourself on the left side of the bed, as if you've moved in your sleep to accommodate someone. you scowl and think that your asleep self should stop being so stupid. ..you make the bed just in case he really does decide to come back.

fourteen. your daughter. whenever you make yourself breakfast now, you keep accidentally making two bowls, the muscle memory automatic, familiar, and no longer needed. you sit down at the table and set the bowls and begin to eat, but you always end up just stirring the cereal with your spoon as you stare at the untouched bowl across from you. you always end up throwing them both away. without your input, a frown tugs slightly at your lips as your pour out the second bowl but you know that nobody else was even here to eat it anyway. your eyes burn.

fifteen. your daughter, the one you know isn't the real one. sometimes you walk down those train tracks where you found her, hoping she'll be here this time. she never is. ..you still keep checking, just in case.

[finniestoncrane]

👉🥺👈 please don’t forget me when i disappear repeatedly and don’t get back to your messages for weeks

[sage-is-in-fact-very-tired]

thinking about midas' like. awe for the allay they spawn. the little "oo!" and then the excited "hi buddy :D" and then the wondering if they can swim, the letting the allay try to lead the way, the naming, the little laughs they give when lily messes with them. they just seem . happy.

[mumblesplash]

this was supposed to be for my own reference but ended up looking pretty cool on its own so here have some eyeballs

[swordmaid]

i am wide awake thinking about that post canon jb au again when I should be sleeping …!!! such is the nature of the jbrainrot…

[runefactorynonsense]

Melotober - Day 11 - Dream

Chosen Earthmates

[moeblob]

It has been. A Day (tm).

[miikanui]

dont you guys ever just make random characters in those papa louie games?? in my case, its ALWAYS vocaloid.

[vimbry]

jumping off the back of the post about genres of song lyrics, another thing about tmbg's lyrics in particular is that even when they write about pleasant themes, they still manage to frequently do so through a sinister lens:

the experience of having children and looking after them:

a nice little nightlight protecting a child muses on the shortcomings it would have outside its assigned responsibility:

fantasising about getting high in the park with your crush:

[volivolition]

DAY 10: EMPATHY - Lost little pearls of light. Tiny fires in the dark.

YAY YIPPEE a collab piece with @euclydya!! it drew the LOVELY linework and i finished the colors/shading!! wah im incredibly happy i got to do an art collab with y'all, thank you so much my beloveds :D!! <333 <222

without overlay!!

[krotiation]

"You can't ship rhack, it's toxic!!" Wrong, that's exactly why I ship it

[ourflagmeansgayrights]

when has anyone EVER said that homophobia is izzy’s only motivation. i’m on team “gay homophobe izzy” and i do not think this is his only motivation. i don’t even think it’s his primary motivation. it is another layer of complexity on a fascinating character. he is gay and in unrequited love with ed. he craves power and leadership but he is not good at managing those things when he gets them. he thinks men should behave a certain way and is aggressive and cruel to the men who don’t meet his standards. men having sex with each other is fine, but men falling in love with men falls outside of his rigid idea of how men should behave. he lacks the emotional maturity to be able to identify his feelings towards ed. he is so repressed he only accepts intimacy in the form of physical violence. he blames stede for ed changing. he hates stede because ed is changing. to izzy, the worst part about stede changing ed is the fact that stede is such a pathetic excuse of a man it shatters izzy’s image of ed to think that ed could find anything about stede appealing. he’s dedicated his life to the version of ed that he’s made up in his head. he is possessive of being the only one to call him ed, to be the only one who gets to call the legendary blackbeard by his name. but izzy has never been able to see ed without blackbeard. to him, knowing ed is a privilege only because ed is who’s behind the legendary blackbeard’s curtain.

i think izzy is fascinating. he's a fantastic character. he is incredibly well written. he plays a crucial role in the narrative. this show would not be the same without him.

im telling you now, having spent my time in this fandom primarily interacting with people who also read izzy as homophobic, anyone who is using this interpretation to reduce izzy's complexity is by far in the minority with that take.

[toddtakefive]

thinking about todd and his resolve toward… not quite isolation, but being alone in a room full of people again. he goes along to the study room to sit on his own and do his homework, he sits at the poets table and follows along with what’s being said while keeping quiet, he goes to the meetings at all but doesn’t necessarily contribute (in fact, if you watch him when cameron is telling the story ‘from camp in sixth grade’, you can see that he recognizes it before any of the other poets but doesn’t voice it until they all have). he’s not alone, necessarily, if you want to get technical about it, he’s just lonely, and he’s generally okay with that. he doesn’t have friends and that’s fine, he doesn’t participate in class and that’s fine, he doesn’t have a relationship with his family and that’s fine—he could live without any real connection and he’d have been, more or less, fine.

the thing about when he says “i can take care of myself just fine!” is that he isn’t really wrong, you can infer that he’s been doing it his entire life anyway, it’s that ‘taking care of yourself’ isn’t the same thing as really living or being happy. todd’s an introvert, certainly, and even as he gets closer to the group he defaults to sitting quietly in the background, but he’s also denying himself community out of fear not introversion. todd isn’t friendless because he’s an introvert, although that definitely plays a part, he’s friendless because he pushes anyone that might want his company away. if anyone has every wanted for his attention in the first place. (neil’s unwavering interest in him is unique (even when it comes to the rest of the poets, who are fine with todd coming along and joining the group, but aren’t really hellbent on him being there in the beginning) and his refusal to accept it is a direct result of being so lonely growing up.)

there’s obviously something to be said about the implications of his parents neglect, and the more than likely fact that he grew up friendless, and how those both play a part in in him being so skilled at dodging social interaction/being so avoidant of it, but by the time we see him in the movie he’s all but accepted his fate as being alone his entire life. he’s already accepted being the family disappointment, and he’s already accepted he’ll never amount to anything, and he obviously doesn’t like it, but he’d have managed living with that knowledge without the confirmation that it was all wrong. would he have been miserable? almost certainly. but he’d have managed. he’d done it for that long already, anyhow.