#idk where i was going with this but! here ya go

[ghostsandfools]

The Algebralien’s Home Planet (again)

So, a couple months ago I made a post talking about where the algebraliens live and where they came from, but since then my opinions have CHANGED!! So I’m doing it again.

I didn’t even find new evidence or anything, I just changed my mind- A couple people also pointed out the flaws in my logic, so I’ll go over it again >:]

So. Where did they come from? Where did they go?

In my original post I posited that the Algebralien’s came from a singular planet and then spread out over multiple. I was thinking that the area where 15 lives, the place where eliminated contestants go, and the place where One is sending people were all planets outside of Earth. Which… Yeah probably not actually.

15 probably lives on Earth. Idk why I thought she lived in space but… Yeah no.

And the place where One is sending people is probably inside of herself, kind of like Four’s exit. That seems like a much more likely option.

So, now we’re left with three areas, those being:

Earth

The Number Planet (seen in TPOT 15)

The upside down area

Okay, let’s talk about this upside down place. So this:

This is the area where eliminated contestants go and boy, it is a MYSTERY. Let me tell ya, I have no evidence as to where this could be.

HOWEVER. I don’t actually think it’s a separate planet. I think the only two planets that are going to be important are the number planet and Earth. But which planet is this on?

On one hand, it looks very otherworldly. It doesn’t look like the kind of thing you’d see in Earth. BUT, BFDI’s world is really weird. There’s literally a place filled with giant instruments in the sky, I don’t think anything is off limits here.

So where is this? I personally believe it’s on the number planet. And I have a reason why, but my reasoning is very unsupported.

So… There’s like no evidence for this. But, look at the number planet.

It has a bunch of mathematical symbols all over it. Which, really doesn’t make any sense- Like how does that work????? Are these like, giant drawings or something???

My logic is that it’s kind of like the inverted planet from bfb. The center of the planet, instead of having a gravitational pull, instead has antigravity and pushes things away, but the atmosphere of the planet keeps everything inside. And, the markings on the planet, are actually upside down landmasses in the sky.

Now. That makes NO sense at all. It really doesn’t, and I know it doesn’t. It doesn’t really matter though. I don’t know which planet the upside down area is actually on but that’s not important to the original question.

So… Why are these algebraliens on Earth??? The equation playground is on Earth (this has been shown multiple times). All of the numbers reside on Earth, but WHY??????

Now, to be fair, we’ve only seen a few algebraliens so far, nowhere near enough to be a whole species! Maybe MOST algebraliens live on another planet, right?

Okay… I’m gonna mention the book of division again… I know it’s canonicity is arguable (in fact, the entirety of the subscriber specials may not be canon and I could be fussing over nothing!) but I’ll be using it as evidence anyways because I just wanna.

So, the book of division goes over the division symbol and how the numbers lost it. And apparently it was stolen by the evil ruler of the numeric realm and hidden somewhere. And the number searched and searched for it but couldn’t find it. And one specific part of the book talks about how Seven tried climbing a tree to find it.

A TREE. Look at the number planet. Does that thing look like it has trees on it??? Not only that, but it mentions how after they climbed the tree they got stung by hornets. Do you really truly think there are NUMBER HORNETS???

Actually there might be. The evil ruler is actually so. So interesting. Because if they lived on Earth, WHY??? Why would all of the numbers move away from their home planet ALONG with their ruler???

So, it makes more sense for the evil ruler to have been ruling over the number planet. They are called the ‘evil ruler of the numeric realm’ after all.

But then, how did the numbers escape? And how long will it be before the evil ruler comes and finds them again? And how did the author of the book of division (who is NOT an algebralien) know about the evil ruler at all???

There are. Many unanswered questions. I think it would make the most sense if the evil ruler lived on the number planet and then the algebraliens proceeded to establish the equation playground as a safe place to escape to, but there are holes in that theory. Why would Two be sending the eliminated contestants somewhere dangerous with an evil ruler? How many times can I type ‘evil ruler’ within this post?!

Anyways. I hope people actually read this and this post doesn’t flop- If you read this then tell me what you think! Keep in mind that the book of division and subscriber specials might not even be canon, so maybe none of this means anything at all, but I like to theorize about them anyways! They’re canon in my heart <3

[breadandblankets]

what if because of future vision and how Duke processes light he has like elf eyes for space

when Duke looks up at the night sky he doesn't see what anyone else sees, the glowing ghosts of stars long since dead hidden amongst the living, he sees the stars as they are Right Now

[chrollogy]

step on me, fatui harbinger!yue 🙏🏼

[star-lights-up]

If the first class characters were in the office

[helgiafterdark]

my werewolf husbands <3

[ratatatastic]

"ive played in a canadian market ive been in st louis in the summer they won—ive never seen buzz like this" "we're really lucky we get to play hockey in such a nice place" the C and A clocking in on their Praise South Florida as a Hockeytown shift

2024-25 Media Day | 9.18.24 (x)(x)

[yooniesim]

Yall don't gotta argue with dumb ppl on my behalf- some ppl are just straight up stupid and you can't change that, you're not gonna get anywhere. You can give them all the proof and argue all the logic but it just doesn't matter to them. It's just a waste of your time to try sadly. Especially if they're bigoted, they'll just double down on everything they said bc they think they have a right to be that way to those they don't like. They can rb all the "black fears matter" type of posts they want until all of a sudden they find one of us that speaks up a lil too much for their tastes. Especially if u bring up one of their friends being bigoted or otherwise awful. Then it's suddenly ok to tell u to kill yourself, that you're crazy/mentally unwell etc etc. And they'll swear by their right to do so. The only thing u can do about weirdos like that is to let them run their mouths and block them- they'll make themselves look bad on their own, you don't gotta do it for them. Like I know i waste my time but yall don't gotta waste yours lol. Just leave em be, they're truly not anybody important anyways.

[ruelpsen]

me w/ my fave

[em-b-sides]

I think about that tiktok trend where you like paint your partners eye color on your nails or make a bracelet or something with the color a lot actually

[manchesterau]

thinking about the 3 hour cut of hometown showdown where they had deeper conversations of where they grew up but youtube fucking sucks

[saturnrin]

When Gabriel Agreste died, it wasn't pretty.

It was the desperate final attempt of a mad man. Lunging at Chat Noir, whose hand oozed with pure destruction, in hopes of retrieving the butterfly miraculous once more.

Chat Noir had tried to pull away, but he was already distraught. Knowing your father was a terrorist doesn't prepare you for seeing it yourself.

Knowing didn't prepare Adrien for the utter betrayal and shock that completely wrecked his very being to the core when he saw it for himself.

Before Adrien knew what had happened, Hawkmoth, his father - magicless, powerless, pathetic - was writhing on the floor. His eyes clouded and mouth carved into a silent scream as he tore at his chest.

When Gabriel Agreste died, it was agonizing.

He decayed slowly, feeling as every particle of his being disintegrated away to be left as nothing but a pile of dust.

Chat Noir cried out, tried to stop it - to slow it - to do something. It didn't work.

Ladybug tried to fix it, fumbling to create one more lucky charm after Hawkmoth destroyed the previous one. She tried to bring him back. It didn't work.

When Gabriel Agreste died, it was traumatizing.

The two heroes (children. They were children. Sixteen years old with the weight of the world on their shoulders, only able to lean on each other to bear it.) were left clinging to one another; trembling and sobbing and absolutely broken.

It was over. It was finally over.

But they'd never get back what they had lost. Their childhoods were in the past. Their innocence went with the first death they'd witnessed when they were thirteen. Their hands would never be clean of Gabriel Agrestes blood.

When Gabriel Agreste died, Paris' Heroes retired.

They had shown up long enough to tell Paris that they were safe, Hawkmoth was no more. As such, Ladybug and Chat Noir were as well.

Paris had always been protective of their heroes. The support Ladybug and Chat Noir received in favor of their retirement as heroes was unsurprising.

When Gabriel Agreste died, Adrien got everything.

As the sole beneficiary, Adrien Agreste received the company, the stocks, the homes, and the fortune.

The company was the first to go, gifted from Adrien to Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Chloe Bourgeois, who had already been running MDC together.

The homes went next, all being turned into shelters for abused, orphaned, and homeless children.

The fortune went next, almost all of it being donated to help Paris recover from Hawkmoths Reign.

When Gabriel Agreste died, the world got a little brighter.

People in Paris moved on, aided by free therapy and the ever-increasing healthy enviroments, funded by one Adrien Agreste.

Gabriel the Brand went through a complete upheaval. Gaining completely new standards, new policies, new benefits, new aesthetics, and a new name: Miraculous Designs & Co.

The first line was inspired entirely by Paris' superhero team, and Marinette couldn't have been prouder. (She did feel rather vain, making clothes based on her alter-ego.)

When Gabriel Agreste died, the world kept spinning.

The Sun rose, and it set. Flowers continued to bloom and wilt. Snow fell, and snow melted. Rain came and went.

When Gabriel Agreste died, Paris' heroes thought they would never recover.

They were wrong.

[saturdaynightghostclub]

hey toady i love ur brainnn can i maybe ask for a lil donnie angst perhaps something to do w him being on the road 🫣 you’re an incredible writer btw :)

Drivin’ on 9

Come back, just fucking come back.

You couldn’t just get a job as a Sears photographer, could you?

They need you, fuck, I need you, just pleasefuckingcomehome.

You’re trying hard to curb the bitterness of your inner monologue. It’s not Donnie’s fault he’s all over the country, and usually it’s alright. You miss him, sure, but you know he loves you, know each night that he’s wishing just as hard as you are that he was back in Chicago with you. Usually. But usually his mother and oldest sister aren’t perched anxiously on your couch, backs pin-straight, trying to pretend it’s okay that you were the only one home when they arrived.

“I’m sorry,” you say, addressing Mrs. MacClain, “really, he should be home any minute. Usually he calls me from the airport to let me know he’s on his way, I can’t imagine what’s keeping him.” You’ve already offered tea, wine, whatever the hell’s in your pantry, but the MacClain women are here on business. That one-track mind must be a genetic thing.

Mrs. MacClain (you really can’t get the hang of calling her Lisa) reaches across the coffee table and squeezes your hand. “It’s alright, sweetheart,” she says, smiling through the strain in her voice, “I’m sorry I’m not better company, I’m a bit preoccupied.” She doesn’t want to say whatever it is she’s come to say until her son arrives. You understand. If it’s anything like what you’re suspecting, it would be tough news to break twice. Carrie swallows hard beside her mother. She hasn’t said a word all night. For all that Donnie’s family loves you, there are certain things they need to deal with among themselves; you imagine that’s why Jack and the girls aren’t present. As for Eliza and Mr. MacClain, you’ve got no idea. Your throat itches with unasked questions and your fingers twitch uselessly in your lap, wanting to do something, anything, to help.

The minutes tick by achingly, and you remind yourself that you can’t actually be upset with your boyfriend. It’s something you used to have to tell yourself repeatedly in the early days of your relationship: it’s his job, it’s not about you, you’re not angry, you just miss him. It took a lot of reassuring back then, a frankly embarrassing amount, to have you fully convinced that this long-distance thing wasn’t going to break you. Eventually you started to recognize his attention for what it was: love. It took you a while to get there–to accept it, I mean. A man can tell you he loves you until he’s blue in the face, and you can believe him, but how do you know for sure? How do you know, until you really, really know?

For you, the “I know” came at possibly the most inopportune moment it could have. It was the height of that first baseball season after you moved in together, and things were good. You had your work, and he had his; he’d fuck off to Cleveland, or Detroit, or Milwaukee, or whatever city on Earth the Cubs were losing to that week, and when he came home he’d hold you just tightly enough to make it all okay again, rinse and repeat week after week. You knew it was hard; you always assumed it was harder for you than it was for him. This was his life, and sometimes you didn’t fit, but it was alright. He loved you enough to make space for you. You never considered that he would be struggling just as much as you were (something you feel guilty for to this day). So it came as something of a shock when you arrived home from a rare trip to the office to find Donnie slumped over the kitchen table with his head in his hands and a half-drained beer growing warm and flat before him.

“What the fuck are we doing?” He’d asked without raising his head. He’d sounded so miserable. It caught you off-guard, having known him as a man of two temperaments: optimistic and optimistic-but-kind-of-tired. You’d tried to play dumb, asking what he meant, but he had you. “Baby,” he groaned, lifting his head with Herculean effort, “don’t pretend, okay? We both know this sucks, and we’re both acting like it doesn’t,” and then, heartbreakingly soft, “do you need me like I need you?”

Do you need me like I need you?

You did. Obviously. You do.

That was the first time you’d ever seen Donnie cry. Exhausted and heat-weary and worn to the end of his rope, he’d collapsed on the table, planning ostensibly to stay there. That was when you really, really knew. You knew that you were in this for the long-haul, for the good and the bad, and that you would do anything in your power, as long as you lived, to keep him off that goddamn table and in your life. And when you had coaxed him into a sitting position, when you were sure he was going to be okay, you said the thing you needed to say, even though you knew it would break him cleanly in two: “Fuck. You love me.”

“I–yeah,” he stammered, his face flickering indescribably between confusion and hurt, “I love you, I–you know that, don’t you? Oh god, don’t you know that?” He was terrified, you could see it plainly on his face. Had he not done enough, not tried as hard as he should have? Should he have done things differently, should he have been different?

And what on Earth were you supposed to say to that? I knew you wanted me, but I never realized you needed me. I knew you loved me, just not as much as you loved your job. Not as much as I love you. I knew, but I had no idea. So what you said instead was “I guess I didn’t realize…that we were on the same page about this.”

At that, Donnie had pulled you roughly onto his lap, each breath shaking like it might be his last, and held you fast, swallowing sobs to promise you over and over that things were going to change, that he was sorry, that he loved you desperately and frighteningly and truly.

To his credit, things did change. That was both the worst night of your entire relationship and the one that you absolutely couldn’t imagine your life without; what the hell would have happened to the two of you if it hadn’t been for that night? Your resolution was to stop pretending everything was fine and that it didn’t absolutely blow to be apart more often than not. An absolute, no-holds-barred, total bitchfest whenever the situation called for it, plus tagging along on the occasional trip whenever work could spare you. You kick yourself, wishing you could have seen this one coming.

The sound of Donnie’s key in the lock makes you jump. You clamber to your feet to meet him at the door, noting gravely that Lisa and Carrie make no move to join you.

“Hello, my love,” Donnie grins, moving to kiss you before he sees the look on your face. His hands go to your shoulders, slide down your arms, circle your wrists–you wonder if he’s even aware that he seems to be checking you for injuries. He looks you over, eyes landing hard on your own. “What’s wrong?”

You don’t know what else to say but “Your mom and Carrie are here.”

Donnie pulls you into a brief hug, squeezing you once before he passes you to sit in the chair you yourself occupied only seconds before. He looks at you from his seat, a silent plea to stay, but you shake your head. This is family business. You busy yourself for a moment with leftover breakfast plates, letting them crash against each other in the sink to drown out Mrs. MacClain’s hushed voice. Eventually, you drift off to the bedroom and sit on your bed fully clothed, wondering what proper etiquette would suggest you do.

It takes about an hour. The front door opens, then shuts, then Donnie enters your room. His eyes are red-rimmed and hopelessly lost.

“I, um…” he starts, shrugging around a deep, shuddering breath, “I was in Philly.”

“I know,” you say gently, moving to stand before him. He tugs you closer by the waist, eyes sailing over the top of your head before coming to rest on your face.

“No, I mean. I mean I was in Philly when he,” deep breath, “my dad had a heart attack.”

Alright, you need to play this one right. You nod slowly, gently. “And?”

“He’s gonna be okay,” Donnie murmurs vacantly, like that’s not even the important part, “but I was in Philly when it happened.”

You think you see what’s going on. “You being in Philadelphia has nothing to do with your dad’s heart attack,” you say, “these things are completely random, I mean–no, they’re not, but they almost are.” You’re rambling now. You’ve never been very good at comforting people when they’re upset. “What I mean is that there’s nothing you could have done differently that would have changed anything.”

“Okay, but that’s not true, is it?” Donnie asks. His words are the start of an argument, but his tone is one of complete despair. He runs a hand up and down your back in apology. “I’m sorry. If I were home, I could have been here when he–when he went in. I could have been there when he woke up. And what if he never woke up? He could have–,” he chokes, leaving the rest of his words unsaid. He could have died, and I would have been in Philadelphia.

There’s nothing you can say right now that will calm him down, so instead you wrap your arms around his neck and press your body against his, letting him hold you as tightly as he needs to. “I’ll drive,” you say, pulling carefully away, “it’ll be good for him to see you.”

You don’t need to elaborate, Donnie knows what you mean. Knows what you’re doing for him. He nods. Then he kisses you. When he pulls back, your skin is cold where his tears have touched it.

Maybe you’ll have to talk him out of quitting his job tomorrow. Maybe you’ll have to make a casserole and bring it to his mother. Maybe all you’ll be able to do is love him. In any case, there’s one thing you know: there will be no compromise. He’ll keep the job, he’ll keep his girl, and he’ll keep his family–there’s no other way for him to be.

[mrsoharaa]

The idea of when you try to be sneaky af late in the middle of the night, trying to sneak in a few of his snacks, thinking he was fast and deep asleep and you were in the clear - you never realize that he was really wide awake, leaning against the kitchens door frame watching you mischievously, greedily munch away on his snacks with your back turned on him.

So he turns the tides against you, sneaking up behind you and capturing you in his big, burly arms, lips against your ear. You, of course yelp in surprise and fall to his strong grasp around you, shame and embarrassment scouring through you. So he takes it upon himself to make a "proposition", in terms to letting you scot free. And you can all but nod and agree to his proposal.

Unbeknownst to your knowledge, you had never thought it would turn out for him, your insatiable, hungry thorough boyfriend, that he would be eating you out ravenously amongst the cold marble of your kitchen countertop. For a good two and half hours.

Head nudged deep in between your trembling, sticky thighs. Mouth rigorously lapping up the pooling juices flowing out of you, firm hands wrapped up and around the soft plush of your thighs. Mumbling how delicious and sweet you tasted on his tongue, making you cum relentlessly time after time after time. Until you could no more.

And then when he's finally had his fill of you, he'd happily carry you in his big, strong arms and back to bed. Tucks you in right next to him and kisses your forehead with a slanted grin on his face.

"Next time, don't be sneaky and eat all of my snacks baby"

GOJO SATORU, Geto Suguru, Barou Shoei, PORTGAS D. ACE, KYOJURO RENGOKU, Keigo Takami, Ban (7ds/seven deadly sins), DEAN WINCHESTER, YOUR FAVE.

[jce93]

thry have the perfect sun/moon dynamic but u guys arent ready to hear that js yet 🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫

[b3achysurfur]

ngl seeing ppl who hate me talk ab me is so funny . WHY ARE YALL HC ME AS ABLEIST WTF!!??

[itsalwaysdark]

i think itis funny in the past when i would list my interests as if i post abt them i donot post abt the shit im into rly Mainly bc im not rly Into Into anything anymore i occasionally watch or read or play something but i dont do fandom stuff rly much.... just sometimes i get brainworms