#im an archivist
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brytnoter ¡ 1 year ago
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[IMAGE ID: Original tumblr post from September 25th, 2021 by @dogz5 . Screenshots featuring a list of discord voice channels.]
Channels grouped together under the title "SEX VOICE CHANNELS"
apologetic-sex[text only] normal sex silly sex wild sex passionate sex survival sex healing sex diddles is feeling kind o… earnest clown sex gay sex hospital inducing sex weird sex efficient sex cringe sex with my fail… awful sex sweaty sex girl sex sex with your mom feminist sex vent sex masculine-sex epic sex outdoor sex frightening sex sickening sex frightfully horrific sex haunted sex bald sex hairy sex hairier sex harrier sex spine chilling sex creepy sex anguished sex disrespectful sex stinkyy sex group sex nonbinary sex womanly sex birthday-sex [demon face emoji]ORGY[demon face emoji] [private channel]
[A follow-up post from @dogz5, a screenshot of the text chat #apologetic-sex where the phrase "I'm sorry." fills the screen 31 times.]
[A follow-up post from @dogz5 on March 22nd, 2023]
"this post is going around again and its been a few years so thought i should update with some of the new sex channels tht have been added"
Channels grouped together under the title, "SEX 2"
dumber sex [text only] asexual sex i really really want sex … arid sex biome sex bread making sex chaste sex damp sex do a flip sex Dude! Nice sex! extinct megafauna sex evil sex good sex morally grey sex fucked up and evil sex powerslide sex sketeboard sex tacky sex wheelie sex ytp sexer XTREME SEX
su chan sex dyslexic sex dyslexic lex sexo especial pleasurable sex dumb sex better call sex default sex hobby tunneling sex structurally unsound s… osha certified sex suicide bait sex ant sex slimy sex southern hemisphere s… northern hemisphere s… intimidating sex monologuing sex intellectual sex belittling sex absent sex ambush sex harrowed groon sex fully clothed sex puppet sex balls in the condom sex house redecorating sex
Channels grouped under the title "EXPANDED SEX UNIVERSE" sex? christian sex damper sex devious sex Clean and organised sex girlsexbattle2 walden sex middle-aged sex Bulgarian sex [00/69] varnished sex garnished sex just a spot of vaseline … ambulance sex cooking 600 eggs sex sexless sex hot sex cold sex lukewarm sex luke sex HAPPY BIRTHDAY Rav… marathon sex triathlon sex pentathlon sex paralympic sex
JESSE WE NEED SEX pansexual sex sidecake sex carbunkle sex virgin sex alcoholic sex expansive sex delightful sex driving home sex brownie disaster style … passive aggressive sex rude to men on facebo… double sex quadruple sex sextuplet sex fingers in his ass sex therian sex sex files Christmas sex 9 pm sex two trucks having sex when willy sex? [private channel] sex for ANTS? one more death grips s…
Channels grouped under the title "FORBIDDEN SEX ZONE" no more death grips sex joyous cigar experienc… vengeful sex shoebill sex worthless sex my gym partner's a sex pervert sex knock the mario coins … radiant sex beloved sex flagellating sex respectful sex incomprehensible mop… pro lamps sex pathetic sex knock the minecraft or… a spot of sex spaghetti sex meatball sex sex 2 CEO of sex short king sex break room lesbian sex
personal sex bigg sloppy sandwich sex joker sex sinister sex hot dog sex gay sex explosion willy sex WILL he sex? when will he sex wig sex bloated sex romantic candlelit sex sex with 12 billion peo… struck by lightning sex softcore sex sockpuppet sex sex of all time lost sex found sex schrödinger's sex whata wrong with my s… sex gifs arena sex that sex hurted mobius strip sex my personal sex FUCK
Channels grouped under the title "SEASONING SEX" paprika sex salsa sex oregano sex cumin sex cummin sex cum in sex peppery sex pepperoni sex curry leaves sex ginger sex bayleef sex chilli powder sex cinnamon sex coriander sex koriander-sex peppercorn sex peppercum sex cardamom sex carda your mom sex matt smith sexalicious … cayenne sex star anise sex I want to kill my landlo…
basil sex wireless sex artistic sc unballed meat sex HAVE SEX! mountain climbing sex gougar sex fundamental sex wise sex graceful sex sex at sunset sex in the forest sex in the moonlight sex in the mud sex in the vineyard sex on the sand morose sex serendipitous sex barefoot sex columbo sex magic sex meow meow kitty cat s… onion sex employed sex
Channels grouped under the title "MORBIUS SEX" morbius sweep sex dead-grandpa-birthda… shower-sex hero of sex furniture building sex
Channels grouped under the title "EMERGENCY ONLY" bond-clean-sex [text only] [demon face emoji]ORGY[demon face emoji] [private channel] bond clean sex hospital finger wound sex sex from beyond the g…
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wojtekaneko ¡ 2 months ago
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That's how it went
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iclosedoors ¡ 27 days ago
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Hand me my shovel, I'm going in.
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close up!!! :D
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😂😂😂😂
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vos0q ¡ 7 months ago
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“His hand and heart hesitantly reach out…”
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bluenoisen ¡ 7 months ago
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plunged into the deep end
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mitwodlemi ¡ 9 months ago
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She watches me ceaselessly til I'm a wretched thing!
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nectardraws ¡ 2 months ago
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(tw blood // implied gore)
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eye quit
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sapin7 ¡ 9 months ago
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daffodils
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stageturn ¡ 3 months ago
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hi mr archives... hiiiii..... what a silly guy
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lesbomaticlove ¡ 4 months ago
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he's not even disappointed, just tired
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y3llow-hoodie ¡ 11 months ago
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girl help, I’m doomed by the narrative
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kkohiart ¡ 4 months ago
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lailas-in-space ¡ 9 months ago
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I binged all of tma in April of 2023, so with one episode per WEEK for tmagp, I'm feeling like s4 jon experiencing statement withdrawal
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gammija ¡ 8 months ago
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joking aside, while jonny, alex and tim fearon are all credited as [ERROR], the casting image clearly has different garbled text for all of them. So it seems like [ERROR] is something like a status condition, though how exactly you get it... dimension-hopping? avatarhood? being a computer and/or tape recorder? who knows
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wilkoakdraws ¡ 1 year ago
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Hello demons, it's ya boy, Johnatan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Insitute London My brain was recently eaten alive by The Magnus archives , therefore. fanart commence
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red-archivist ¡ 3 months ago
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TMAGP 23 SPOILERS!
i heard those lines and was immediately inspired to make something sad lol
~
Twenty years ago, Jonathan Sims quits smoking.
Twenty years ago, Martin Blackwood’s mother survives her second stroke.
Twenty years ago, Jonathan Sims quits smoking.
It’s not enough to just stop, the shakes and the headaches nip at him constantly, and he reluctantly concludes that bad habits need to replaced by better ones.
That’s where the cycling comes in, to start with.
It’s exercise, it’s eco-friendly, and he can pretend he is literally leaving his cravings behind him as he pushes hard on the pedals.
He does his homework first, researching what is the best option for city cycling, for his budget, for someone that hasn’t ridden a bike since they were nine.
He plots out his paths to the office, the shops, and the nearest puncture repair centre, just in case. He even makes a spreadsheet to keep track of them.
He is sure Tim would poke fun at him for it, if they were still talking, but the organisation keeps his twitching fingers busy and his roaming mind away from the half-finished box of cigarettes in his desk drawer that he promises he will throw away any day now.
What all that planning fails to account for, as soon as he actually gets onto the road, is the rest of the world moving around him.
Every stereotype he has heard about antagonistic drivers is proven ten-fold as he dodges swerving cars and gets sworn at for whizzing past stalled traffic. He soon learns to sneer through tinted windows.
Pedestrians are almost worse. They seem blind to him, stepping out directly in front of his wheels and making him wobble as he overcorrects. As if a bike can’t still do some damage if he were to actually hit someone. Once, he clips the edge of a pram and stops in the street to shout some sense into the careless father pushing it.
He bitches openly about this during his lunches and his coworkers only roll their eyes at him sometimes.
The cycling becomes a bit of running joke in the office when they spot him coming in with his bike shorts and change of outfit, but he ignores them. The shorts are practical. For some reason, telling them that only makes them laugh harder.
He takes the fastest route into the office and a scenic one home. It winds through quiet well-off estates, before opening out to one of the less well-known urban parks. It’s calming, almost meditative, to roll through the cool shade the cluttered trees offer after another meaningless day of data entry.
In those times, he doesn’t think of his empty flat or his dead-end job, he forgets his sniggering coworkers and his ever-dwindling contact list. It’s just him and the wind.
The only thing that could make those moments better, he admits to himself, is a smoke.
The problem with this particular path is how hard it is to see around corners in the park. There is some national re-wilding initiative in the works and the foliage looms over the roads in a way that block his line of sight.
He checks every turn, even though it is rare to encounter a car in this area. Better safe than sorry.
The night he dies is warm but overcast.
He follows his usual route and cranes his neck to see around the overgrown corner he is approaching. A drooping branch grazes his head and something falls from the tree onto his neck.
It could be a leaf, or a twig, or a ladybird, but Jon feels the whisper-touch of something small at his throat and his only thought is: spider.
He has been afraid of them since he was very young and terrified instinct immediately beats any reason. One hand flies up from the handlebars to bat away at his collar. He swerves. Fear makes him pedal faster and the bike speeds onto the junction.
He is so scared of the potential at his throat that he never even sees the delivery truck.
The bike is sent flying from the impact, Jon falls under the wheels.
The driver, to his credit, calls emergency services immediately, distraught.
The ambulance is there within five minutes, but they needn’t have bothered. Jon is declared dead at the scene with a broken neck.
What few friends he has left comfort each other with that fact.
At least it was quick.
~
Twenty years ago, Martin Blackwood’s mother survives her second stroke.
This is a good thing, Martin reminds himself, more than once. It is Good that his mother is alive.
It doesn’t matter that the nurses need to attend to her around-the-clock now. It doesn’t matter that the care home bills have skyrocketed. He is grateful that she is still with him.
He starts looking for a third job. The admin work during the day and the shelf-stocking at night barely covered his previous bills. He’ll have to look for some flexible positions to cram into his schedule.
In the meantime, he cuts back. Eats cheaply, eats less. Cancels overdue check-ups and doesn’t touch the heating.
His days are a current of constant worry, occasionally breached by a wave of panic that he tries to quell by hiding in the office bathroom and digging his nails into his legs.
Panic won’t pay the rent or keep the lights on or remember to call Mum every Sunday. He smothers it deep in his chest and ignores the spasm of pain he gets whenever he forces it down.
He has been getting those more often; sharp, sudden chest pains, numb fingers, dizzy spells, an aching back, shortness of breath.
He had been going to ask the doctor about it all before he cancelled the appointment but. Well. Needs must.
He has his first heart attack on the evening shift.
Pulling a box of washing up tablets from the top shelf in Aisle 4 causes such a rush of agony in his chest that he dares to ask the manager to take his 15-minute break early.
He doesn’t make it to the back room before he collapses.
In the hospital, after he wakes, the doctors ask if there is a family history of heart problems.
If he didn’t feel so weak he would laugh.
He has more in common with his mother then he likes to admit. Of course they share a bad heart.
Or maybe it came from his father. Mum always said he was heartless. Maybe there’s a hole where Dad’s DNA should be.
When the medical team leaves him to rest, all he can think is how much this will cost him.
The NHS is no charity no matter what their marketing says, not to mention how much money he will lose by recovering. He can’t afford six weeks of not working. His first job doesn’t have that much sick leave and his second doesn’t have any.
He runs the numbers in his head, tries to find what else he can hack out of his life to keep his head above water. Occasionally his thoughts swerve, self-recriminating and barbed. He is so stupid for letting this happen at all.
It’s all his fault.
Mum is going to be so angry with him.
His heart pulses in keen pain, bitter and broken.
Somehow, he drifts off, counting figures instead of sheep.
The second heart attack kills him in his sleep.
~
They die on the same day, at nearly the same time (Jon rushes ahead, always too eager, Martin follows inevitably after him).
Their death certificates are filed away alphabetically by a bored clerk in the dusty management system of the General Register Office.
Twenty years later, Samama Khalid exhumes them and examines them, with more curiosity than sense, only to be disappointed by the mundanity of their ends.
He returns them together, heedless of any organisation.
Jon and Martin meet, in the quiet and the dark.
The filing cabinet is a shared headstone, their names rest side-by-side.
~
Also on AO3
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