#im sunk if they dont

[ramlightly]

Hey, dominate person is a pretty fucked up spell, ain't it?

[shroomlightruins]

Eefers

[theriverbeyond]

mmmm ok. dykes who have gone on T. when/if your voice dropped enough for other people to notice did you start telling people.

[lys-9-10]

Can we PLEASE talk about the fact that when Wolf tells Scarlet "I love you" her response is a sarcastic "Really? I couldn't tell." I mean, how amazing would it be if all love declarations were so backed up by actions that they could warrant this response

[mitskiluvr]

watched the haikyu movie thinking it was going to be normal but unfortunately i came out battered bruised bleeding and 5 years younger, back in 2019 watching haikyu on my couch and trying to get my sister hooked on it

[greensaplinggrace]

god I fucking wish the darkling was as good at manipulation as people seem to think he is

[lyss-sketchbox]

I feel like maybe we should boycott Natlan by just NOT pulling on banners with the new characters. I have no idea how well that would work, but it would be a hit (at least on some degree) to hoyo and get a message across to them

Real boycott is just dropping the game all together but not alot of people are willing to do that plus gestures at the CN community. If we drop it, there will always be people willing to pay. This game is catering not to us but the CN community. It was never meant to last and be as popular as this.

And don't say 'well *I* can drop it', your experience and attachment to the game is different. I personally still play because as bad as it gets, i really do still want to see the story end. I still want to run around and beat random mobs up. Some of my favourite characters are from Genshin and I still would like to see them in game.

Ultimately it really is 'Don't like? Don't play' but it's not gonna sway hyv unless it disturbs their main audience.

[pirateboy]

anyways a good personal thing to share now: I got top surgery last week!!?!?!!! insane cos I went in to the hospital for a breast reduction and like. a few hours before the surgery the doctor without me saying anything said she could gimme top surgery instead. um yes pls so epic based???

[arielluva]

i keep thinking about how scared i am about starting college and im trying to hammer in "do it scared" with the like. 3 weeks i have before it starts

[coriander-candlesticks]

I'm sick so I'm sorry if this doesn't make sense, but I've been thinking about the nature of myths recently as I've been exploring hellenic polytheism.

For context: I'm ex-Mormon. I was raised in the church and, because of that, was taught biblical literalism but in, like, a more subtle way than most? I was raised believing that Adam & Eve and Noah's Ark, etc., were literally true, but that the story of Job specifically was not; I also always knew evolution and the Big Bang to be correct, despite there being a verse in the Doctrine & Covenants (a Mormon-specific religious book) where God apparently told Joseph Smith that the world is 6,000 years old- a passage I didn't know existed until my senior year of high school. I didn't realize I had believed in biblical literalism until I'd left the church, actually.

Now that I'm aware of it, it's a mindset I'm actively trying to combat while I explore Hellenic polytheism. It's definitely been a task to separate the nature of the Gods from their myths, as brutal as they often are. And it's something I've noticed within the community, too, which I think is interesting. It makes sense: Christianity, at least, has had a chokehold on much of the world for a long time, and so many of us have experienced literalism as our first interaction with any sort of holy text (though, of course, Greek myths as a whole aren't that) alongside our first experience with divinity as a wrathful God whose flaws are waved away, or ignored, or twisted into positive attributes. This also means that I'm trying to re-approach several deities with an open mind (Zeus, Hera, and Ares in particular, but many of them to some extent) while also trying to un-condition myself. I was already in the process of doing this, of course, but trying to figure out how to interact with a completely different pantheon has made that especially clear.

It extends to things like prayer and offerings, too. Prayers were very formulaic growing up, even though most of the time there wasn't a strict script to follow. There was always something you ask as part of the prayer, even if it's just 'please help me do better tomorrow' (alongside giving thanks, of course), so trying to craft a prayer without adding *everything* I'm used to including in makes it feel incomplete and, therefore, disrespectful. And daily prayer is something I'm resistant to because of prior experiences with it. I don't want to offend any of the gods by asking for something or asking for too much, especially so early on, and there's always a promised offering the few times I *have* asked. Add worries about exact obedience on top of that and it's proving to be a difficult thing to untangle. And I know that the gods are difficult to offend, figuring out how to do this takes trial & error and that's okay, it'll get better the more I do it, etc., etc.; this is more an issue with my own overthinking than anything else (hooray for ✨ mental health issues ✨). I'm not really asking for advice here, necessarily, just thinking out loud because I'm not comfortable talking to people in meat space about it yet.

[beatcroc]

Is your pfp an oc of urs? Any story?

yah that's N.K.

primer: a former god of fear who has since resigned, and now runs what is essentially an intergalactic tourist trap on his cursed planet, simply known as ''nk's domain''

i don't really do "stories" per se i just have my guys in their 'verse and they have their lore and sometimes that's actionable in a plot sort of way, but most of the time they are just doing their things. nk is one of my oldest oc's and as such probably the most, like, centralizing? nk's domain is sort of a meetup hub for most other characters that don't have their own defined Thing going on, as well as what several characters' Things are directly related to, but nk himself isn't all that much of an active player any more and most of the current story type stuff i'm working with has kinda moved beyond him.

aside from that it's just his history tying him to other stuff; there's a lotta old-guard guys who fuckin hate him back from when he was still doing the whole 'reign of terror' fear deity thing [nk used to stand for 'nightmare king' but he just goes by nk now], there's a bunch a new-guard guys he's pissed off for being the main force behind the universal outlawing of capitalism[honestly not that important and some worlds still do it anyway bc gods are bad at caring enough to actually enforce their rules unless it's like a Really egregious violation], and there's also the history of said "cursed planet" itself [he didnt do that he doesnt know why its like that he just saw it wand went ooooh free real estate. but theres a reason its like that and he's starting to pay the price for having taken it over [accidentally unleashed an imprisoned god-parasite plague][uh oh][its that yellow thing in the last image][this is actually what my "main" "story"/alleged webcomic is about] [go here go in the dark]]

[wedontdeservethestars]

Damn. Cannot believe I’m graduating…

[lifemod17]

we do not talk enough about the pure blissful joy of having enough spoons to listen to new songs, which leads to exploring a new artist, to then falling down the rabbit hole of their entire discography

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

(ao3)

The worst thing, Bad knows, is the way that nothing changes. 

The clouds move slow across the sky, gentle giants on an eternal trek. The waters dance with fish; the brooks burble and sing. Grass grows. Sheep eat. Grass regrows. 

On, and on, and on, and on. 

Bad breathes in, slow, and holds it. 

It’s enough to go mad over. To become enraged for. To rip everything down just so that everything can match the- the keening lack in his heart. Grass grows. Grass has always grown. There is nothing that could ever stop grass from growing. 

His hands are curled into the ground at his sides. He clutches handfuls of the wretched plant and pulls, almost gently, and doesn’t snap a single blade.

He exhales, slow, and doesn’t inhale again. What point is there? He’s alone. No one will know whether or not he needs to breathe. He’s been alone before- days that Dapper doesn’t wake up, days where the other eggs are with their other parents. Days where he falls asleep in his chair and the ghosts are left to amuse themselves. He’s been alone before. 

He’s lost before. 

There is a sob in his throat. He refuses to let it out. It chokes him, and he takes another deep breath to try to settle it. 

There’s always- he misses Skeppy. Of course he misses Skeppy. He can’t lose Skeppy, but Skeppy isn’t here.

Dapper isn’t here. Pomme isn’t here. Richarlyson. Leo. Ramon. Chayanne. Tallulah. They’re-

Bad tears the grass out of the ground. He stares at his hands, dark claws curled around torn green plant. He tries to imagine the grass is white fur instead, but he can’t find the enthusiasm. That’s okay. The anger will be back later. 

He just- he can’t feel much beyond the loss, right now. The lack. The empty, quiet island where sheep eat grass and clouds keep moving and no eggs place any signs at all. That’s not okay, but he knows that, at least, will change. That’s how grief works. The world ends, and you end with it, and while you claw yourself up from the rubble the world ends again and sends you back under, and then again, and then again, but by the third go around you know what the tremors look like. You start to predict where it hurts the most. Then the world keeps ending but the ending just becomes a part of your world, and sometimes everything shakes but you shake with it and it’s not okay but it’s better. You get so used to the shaking that sometimes you forget that your world ever ended at all. 

How long will it take for him to forget them? 

Bad leans forwards, slowly, until he slumps into a miserable little puddle of limbs. He presses his cheek into the cool grass and when the sob rises up again he bites it back with teeth. The sun is blocked by a sombrero, now fallen awkwardly over his face, that Foolish had cheerfully placed on his head hours before. Bad doesn’t know why Foolish had put it there- except he does, and he’d seen it in the in the slightest tremor of Foolish’s smile, and so he’d kept it on. 

He can’t see them, but he can hear them laughing. Mouse, Jaiden, and Foolish, just around the corner. There have been so many people ‘just around the corner’ today. They’re so loud. They’re not the right type of loud. He feels guilty for the way that they’re comforting him, that he’s taking up their time, and then he feels angry that he feels guilty because he remembers the cage, and he knows what he really means to them, and-

They’re still here. The eggs are gone, and they’re still here. 

Forever isn’t here. 

Forever hasn’t given him a gift basket yet. 

…

…It doesn’t work. It’s a close thing, though- there’s a flicker of irritation at the thought of Forever’s awful, handsome face. Not anger, not nearly enough emotion to fill the void that is Bad’s heart, but maybe it could be. He’ll try again tomorrow. Isn’t that fun? Isn’t that something? There’s so much emotion he can’t feel any of it at all. 

Maybe it’s a bad dream. There were no remains. There was just Dapper’s top hat, and Pomme’s beret. No shell, no dead eggs. No eggs. It’s driving him mad, the maybe-yes maybe-no nature of his children’s fate.

He thinks, maybe, that tomorrow he will build a drill. 

Today, the world is dark beneath the sombrero, and the grass is scratchy and full of small twigs. Foolish laughs once, too loud. Automatically, Bad pushes himself up, because he knows Foolish, and knows how long he’s been away from the group, and he feels sick. He fumbles for his warpstone and- Foolish’s head pops around the corner- Bad freezes. Too late. 

Foolish looks at him, grin bright and neverending. Bad looks back. He can’t bring himself to say anything- he drops the sombrero at their feet. 

Foolish’s smile fades. Bad activates his warpstone again and, though the particles, he sees Foolish give him a sharp, left-handed salute. Bad can’t bite back his little laugh; Foolish knows him, too.

And then Foolish is gone. The world is purple. Then the world ends, once again, in Bad’s home. All of Dapper’s machines have stopped. Echoing noise to almost-echoing silence. Ah. Right. None of the island’s machines are working correctly. Bad will have to make a smaller drill. But he will build his drill, and he will dig, and he will find his son. 

“Dapper?” he calls, his voice cracking. The sound echoes. Only the animals answer back- they’re the only thing that stops the base from being completely silent. Grass grows. Sheep eat. Grass regrows. There’s so many animals here. What good company. It occurs to Bad, suddenly, that they’re good company. Dapper is gone, and his animals are still here, and Bad- 

He won’t kill Dapper’s pets. He is suddenly holding his scythe and he won’t hurt his son’s pets because he can’t trade them for his son and there’s a special sort of heartache to the fact that his son left behind instructions to machines that don’t work and so many animals that can’t keep Bad company the way Dapper kept him company and Bad- 

He’s holding his scythe. He’s holding the Sunshine Protector. He tries to take a breath but it comes out stuttery and he bites his tongue and. Dapper was-is always so sweet. He made Bonnie to keep Bad company, and Bad is always haunted by little ghosts but now most of all he is haunted by the love of his son. 

“Where are you?” His voice cracks on the third word. He stumbles to Dapper’s room and doesn’t think about the fact that they never got to build one for Pomme.  

The hole in his heart could swallow an island. 

Please don’t take- 

The scythe gets left outside. Bad can’t bear to look at it. Protector. There is a secure door in front of him that keeps nothing secure because now there is nothing to protect and Bad- 

-my sunshine away. 

He falls to his knees next to the empty bed. He chokes out, “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you, Dapper.”

When the sob rises again, he lets it.

[scattered-winter]

well. update for the quintenary stars folks.

my friend just passed away irl and I don't really know when I'll be able to write again. it might be a week. it might be a month. it might be six. I don't know and I wanted to give y'all a heads up that the next update will probably be delayed indefinitely. I love u guys and I appreciate all the support and engagement qs has gotten so far and I hope I'll be able to come back to it soon 💚🤍🖤

[tngrace]

And then there's ....

I stroke gold with this show. Canadian shows just do it better I think