#back hurts a lil but it is what it is!

[rileys-castle]

good morning!!! comfy cozy, wearing a bunnyhopz, and coloring!!! is a good day so far!!

[swordheld]

do the silly thing. if you do not do the silly thing time will pass and it will not be the same silly thing it could have been. it will still be silly, and it will still be yours, but it will not be the same. this is both a blessing and a curse, but so is living; and if you do not do it now when will you? who will? it has to be you, it was always meant for you, waiting for you.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 139

So. Dan has somehow found a small child. A practically newly born ghostling who had literally fallen right on top of him. A ghostling who had practically formed right above him, far away from nurseries and instead above him of all ghosts? 

Him, the Sunkiller? The Worldeater? Jordan Vladimir FentonNightingale-Foley-Manson? Son of Space and War? Bringer of the End?? Seriously, what the hell! Ghostlings shouldn’t even be able to form within other ghost’s Lairs, and he knew for a fact this wasn’t his own ghostling seeing as he wasn’t interested in such things. 

So here Dan is, feeling more confused than he ever has with a newborn ghostling clinging to him and sobbing in his arms about wanting his dad. What even is his unlife right now.

[whumblr]

Jaybird screaming in the dead of night

Home is where the hurt is: Part 1

-

“Hey Jay,” Zayne sang, slowly, menacingly, butchering ‘Hey Jude’, while swirling himself around the corner into the kitchen startling Jay. “Don’t be afraid.”

Jay, at the first notes of his name in rhyme, turned away from the counter and his dinner prep, his eyebrows raising in surprise and the hairs on his arms in alarm. Just hearing his name in song gave him many reasons to be afraid. He raised his chopping knife in an automatic response, just holding it out in front of him.

“Drop the knife,” Zayne said, now stepping forward and emphasizing his words with the click of his own knife, flicking it up, “Unless you want to compare which one is sharper.”

His kitchen knife might not be as sharp, but it was coated in onion juices. Not an experiment Jay wanted to engage in. With a loud clank, he dropped it in the sink, falling another step back.

Zayne kept advancing on him, slowly, backing him into the dark corner of the kitchen, talking and waving his knife about with every step. “So, I just bumped into your neighbour, downstairs. Or well, he almost fully crashed into me, really. So I shouted after him, holding the door open for him, ‘Hey, what’s the hurry?!’ And you know what he shouted back?”

Probably, yeah, Jay had an inkling of where this was going. And how it was now going to bite – stab – him in the arse. But he kept his mouth shut, dread stealing his voice and knowing Zayne would continue his terrorizing monologue anyway.

Which he did. “He said, ‘Sorry, I’m late!’. So I asked, ‘Late for what?!’” The conversational tone fell away as he leaned forward against Jay, one hand brushing against his, pinning him to the kitchen counter. “Work,” he breathed in Jay’s face. “He was late for work.”

Jay leaned back as far as he could, hands on the edge of the counter, arms bending. He tried to make a soft hum in feigned surprise, but it turned to a soft but sharp inhale as the knife was brought up in his face.

“You never told me he works night shifts,” Zayne crooned, brushing the flat of the knife over Jay’s jawline.

“I mean, it never really came u—”

“But then it all started making sense, you know. How you always tried to hold back on your screaming in the afternoon. And here I was, making an effort to keep the noise down at night…”

The knife fell away from Jay’s clenched jaw, dropped against his clavicle and disappeared under his collar. The cold sensation turned sharper, gradually pressing into his skin.

“Well, no need to worry about that now, you don’t have to hold back. He just left. You can scream as much as you want.”

~

~Bonus~

Zayne leaned back and pulled the kitchen knife from the sink.

“What were you chopping?” he asked, turning the knife back and forth as if he could analyse what was on it (instead of, you know, looking back).

“Onions...”

“Hm.” He swiped his own blade over the knife as if sharpening it, making them sing a threatening tune together. “Do you think it stings in more than just your eyes?”

“You don't need onions to make me cry,” Jay tried to goad him into dropping the knife. He didn’t need a dual-wielding Zayne.

Zayne merely stared at him, eyes softening to a fond expression as he was mulling it over and the stupidity of Jay’s words hit him.

“You’re right,” he said, to Jay’s short-lived relieve. Then his tone shifted and he merely whispered: “I don't.”

-

Tag list:

Tag list: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @hurtmebeautifully @rougenoirofthepurpleterror @susiequaz12 @whump-me-all-night-long @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @im-just-here-for-the-whump @restrainthenmaime @freefallingup13 @whatwasmyprevioususername @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @firewheeesky @redstainedsocks @hold-back-on-the-comfort @whumpawink @break-so-beautifully @approach-me-and-ill-cry @painsandconfusion @afabulousmrtake @wormwriting @soopytime @whumpedydump @pickleking8 @itsmyworld98 @whumpifi @painless-and-colourful @withdrawingramen

[moeblob]

Ohiwe (lady) and Ohime (man) aka the fire deity after they get punished.

Originally just "Oh", the fire deity had a bit too much fun with punishing humans and so in a means to stop them, the elder gods split them into two. So now they have to be together in order to have their "full" power but as before the split, they get restless and like to wander. So while one stays in their city, the other gets to go out and travel and see the world and check on the other deities.

Also, as a whole/singular being Oh would use they/them. After the split however, it's definitely not the same and so Ohiwe likes using female pronouns and Ohime uses male pronouns. That way when discussed as one, it's back to they. That feels best for them.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

excuse me i need to Muse on something for a moment

so in Wally's secret 'vinyl' audios, specifically the last few (if we're listening to em in chronological order), obviously he starts to sound more strained/distressed. his breathing is more labored, like it's taking all of his energy to make contact.

but the audio that really caught my attention was the "But i still can't see" one. cause he just said he has more eyes than he did before. he knows We draw them a lot, and it's thanks to that that he can see. but he still can't see?

so my question is: where is Wally physically? cause although he can (assumedly) see the WHRP goings on, he can see through the eyes We draw, that could all be on a, uh... more Intangible level of sight. like the spiral pit is forming an eye, and then there's the eye on the ceiling in the secret Staff Only section - could Wally be in the pit, that space between his reality and Ours, "watching" through the eyes? but unable to actually see with due to the pit being pitch black nothingness? is he somewhere else? is he stuck? he can see, but he can't... see.

(or is he trying to explain an abstract concept - he's not actually viewing anything, but he can sense it. like how he knows We're there, even if he can't see or hear Us. but he just doesn't have the words to describe it other than using physical senses - see, hear, look.)

and him saying "...that I can see. But it is still... I can't..." but it's still what, Wally? dark? something else that he doesn't have the words to describe, so he just says that he can't see?

i know that in the Livestream Trivia Document (compiled by @/the neighborhoodwatch) there was something said about Wally being in a box. my first thought reading that was "oh, so he's in storage? the physical puppet, i mean?" which would make sense - show's over, there's no more use for him. pack 'em up and put him away. but that paired with the "can't see" audio makes both seem a lil... connected.

Wally can't see > he's likely somewhere dark > the inside of closed boxes are dark > Wally's in a box. (or maybe the Neighborhood is the box? it's a stretch, i know, but the map is a box. television sets are often set up in "boxes". maybe it's less of a physical storage box and more of a 'boxed in' sort of thing...)

one question i've had since the Start of my interest in this incredible project is: how is Wally communicating? how has he connected to the site? how does he connect to our reality? the pit almost definitely has something to do with it - most likely acting as a bridge, or the deteriorating of the barrier between our two 'worlds' - but if Wally is in a box and Not the pit or even just in the puppet's reality... how is he reaching us beyond just seeing through the eyes he's given?

or is he in their reality, and he can contact through the pit or something, but he can't actually see the other side? Our side? he knows it's there - that We're there - but none of it is visible to him. maybe his apparent disassociation in the 14 bug audios is a demonstration of him contacting Us. we can see through him, but it's a one way street.

and speaking of the pit - i just had a thought. his whole thing with Us letting him in, opening... the pit on the neighborhood map is getting bigger and clearer. but the presumed Other Side, the one on the Staff Only ceiling, is small. it's the size of a ceiling panel. it seems to me that Wally is chipping away at his side of the pit or 'portal', trying to reach Our reality, but he needs Us to do the same thing on the other side. the QA can hear him calling, but there's no phone on their (Our) side of the pit. how do We call back???

there's a fundamental barrier & lack of understanding between Wally and the QA/Us. he's trying. he wants to be let in, but what does that mean, really? let him in where? open what? he's desperate. he wants us to understand. he's trying so so hard Without the right tools to clearly communicate what he wants. he can't see Us, We can see him, both know the other is there, but there's no way to connect. and the attempts are hurting all parties involved, however unintentionally

[w0nder1ng-gh0st]

Some Wiwi's for each arc :3 !! prolly not completely accurate but let me live

(click for better quality smiles)

[yardsards]

"they never dated but they ARE exes" is such a funny relationship for two characters to have. very awkward relationship to have irl tho

[whoblewboobear]

Chronic pain having disabled Jace with a mobility aid 💖

[fisheito]

i said i wasnt going to read Two Fixed Points because i dont like scifi but then they published a post-fic yakueimond threesome and i went "well obviously i cant read that without knowing the background lore" so here i am today

[spotsupstuff]

Okay, I was going to explain a possible path for a worm of the string au with Sparrow complaining one day that the puppet can't leave the chamber to relive the fever of being in one place and that her thesis being rejected and then Caper reading the thesis and iterating that idea and then he somehow manages to get off the string.

But getting off the umbilical without reason or explanation is more funny!

Imagine if that starts happening to the others iterators?

Pls tell me his face is priceless! More so if it is a red lizard (do train lizard exist in your au?)

Also, how would Notos and Haboob react to Sparrow?

Now, you mentioned that when Sparrow killed the red centipede she was not in the respawning cycle. What is the age that the Ancients enter the cycle?

staring like a deer caught in headlights GSDLKMCLK this man should either have internal bleeding from a Red Liz bite or bad damage in the coconut and Yet he's 👌 how puzzling n yah! train/hurricane lizards Are real in the Serotonin Take!

as for Notos n Haboob, assuming it's in the off string post-ascension thing too:

they'd like each other! :D

and the respawn cycle is entered once the etheric body is finished growing which is around like.... 20-23 years old

[sluckythewizard]

thought o this a million yrs ago but now im haunted by it AGAIN!!! is there a shipname for shiloh and gabe yet. u gotta answer quicj before this bomb in my neck goes off

[swordheld]

how did u choose your username?

oh, this is a fun one!! i think i considered being swordtold at first, for that very ancient myth vibe of the sword being this narrative tool for adventure and structure and physical time, the parable being passed down through the centuries until it meddles into modern day rhetoric and ideology – a kind of fantastical tool, a spark of magic, of possibility.

i like the arc of the story of a place being physical / having it be held by time and hand alike, wearing with the years and having it become something different to each holder, each reader, each experience fantastical and individual.

having that kind of physicality to it; swordheld is the action of taking up and holding the sword yourself, choosing your own narrative, leading your own story. self-identity has always been something i struggle with (a novel concept i know, i know), so it felt right for this blog, since most of my older blogs before this one have been just me silently reblogging and never really posting anything myself, and i wanted this to be the change to that.

i've always had trouble wranging my social anxiety, esp. on the internet, and previously thought that keeping my words to myself helped keep the timeline cleaner, in a way, no messy thoughts for others to sort through, especially ones i believed no one would want to read anyway? but it never felt right, keeping myself apart from it all, esp. not in the way i so avidly enjoyed reading others' posts and additions, keeping their words close to my heart.

i wanted it to reflect that this was a space i was holding for myself? and i'm a little slow on the uptake sometimes, but this - this i think i got right. i love being here, on this blog, and the joy that it brings me. everyone else enjoying it too has been a wild ride that i never expected, and still surprises me, one that brings a little extra thrill to my heart whenever i think about it.

i had other urls that i liked, but i didn't want this blog to be tied directly to any of my fandom/story interests, since i wanted it to really just be a sort of archive of artistic inspiration and resource, like a little library or museum. i use them now as lil sideblogs of more niche interests now, which is rather lovely.

it hasn't always felt like it fit perfectly, the way that i'd like, but for some reason i can't think of really wanting to change it anytime soon. it feels mythic yet modern in a way that feels like puzzle pieces finally slotting into their place, something my own and inspirational to me, like a lantern i'm holding to make my way by. my own kind of light, if that makes sense – a star i know by name.

[ladsofsorrow24]

i think some of you are too used to genre conventions, you guys forgot to question the worldbuilding that many authors painstakingly made to question the subject of death and life in a more nuanced manner than just "wow resurrection is so romantic!"

[nerdie-faerie]

'Martha didn't get her own Doctor' Martha is one of the last companions that would want her own Doctor. She's one of the few companions to have left of her own free will and not to have an on off friendship with the Doctor in which they can just wander back into her life at any point. She left the option of the Doctor coming back into her life as something only she could invoke. He would wait on her to call him, not just drop in whenever like they used to do to the Ponds and Clara. She originally leaves that life behind entirely to finish what she started - becoming a doctor. She's not waiting around for the Doctor to fall back out of the sky. The only companions I could see really wanting their own Doctor, is Captain Jack - who's absolutely not allowed one in any circumstances - or Yaz both of whom would probably be better off without one tbh

[moeblob]

Anyway they can change between being tiny and human sized. And when they're tinier they can only be seen by the other fae or their selected humans. So if you just passed Noll on the street while Shavuli was perched on his shoulder chatting away you wouldn't see or hear her.