#rubes garbage

[i-got-da-rubes]

We see so many TMNT crossovers but none for the shredders which I think is tragic

[i-got-da-rubes]

Another quiz for if you were a fictional character how would your fandom treat you (if you think your life is too boring to have a fandom just think of yourself as living the domestic!au of some sci-fi or fantasy)

reblog with your results

[i-got-da-rubes]

Emotionally I am here

[howlingday]

Yang: My semblance has been kind of on the fritz. Can you help me?

Ruby: Well, your semblance is triggered when you get hurt, right? So maybe I should try to hurt you and help you activate your semblance?

Yang: Thanks, Ruby, but how are you going to hurt me? I mean, you're kind of a... pussy?

Ruby: ...Oh, don't you worry about little old me, Yang. (Whips out nailed bat) I'm sure I can figure something out~.

1001 broken weapons later...

Yang: (Eyes closed) Ready when you are, Rubes!

Ruby: THAT'S IT! I can't, and do you know why?! Because without your super-strength and bullshit semblance, you're nothing! Your personality is garbage, you have no redeeming qualities, and sure, I might be naive and have some mental health problems, but at least I have SOMETHING that isn't defined by the people around me! You're just fan-service! Just a pair of tits with a shitty personality to match! Like if Barbara Dunkelman were a person! So keep going without your semblance, because the only thing worse than garbage is burning garbage! (Huffs)

Yang: ...

Yang: (Sniffles) That... That hurt, Ruby...

Yang: Huh? Hey! I got my semblance back!

Yang: Wow, Ruby! Thanks for making up all those horrible things in order to make my semblance come back! (Hugs) You're the best little sister ever!

Ruby: Y-Yeah, sure... Make up...

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

9 Days of Lancaster: Denial

Jaune: I don't know how to feel about Ruby.

Yang: You have a crush.

Jaune: I don't have a crush. I have attachment issues and someone giving me affection.

Yang: *laughs* Sure Vomit Boy. Sure. That why you'd kill and die for Ruby?

Jaune: She's a good person and I'm nothing. What decision is there to be made there. It's no contest.

Yang: Here. Hold this for me. *hands him a single white rose*

Jaune: What the hell?

Yang: Oh Ruby!

Jaune: What the fuck are you doing?!

Yang: Do what comes naturally. Just relax and be yourself. She already likes you.

Ruby: What's up Yang?

Jaune: Rubes...

Ruby: Yes?

Jaune: I think this is for you... *hands her the little white rose*

Ruby: Oh?

Jaune: Yeah... I just... I don't know.

Ruby: Come get a coffee with me.

Jaune: I'm not sure that's a good idea. I'm kinda a wreck.

Ruby: You're a cute and honest wreck.

Jaune: Thanks... I'm not the most masculine man...

Ruby: That's okay. I like how metrosexual you are. I like that you're willing to cry in front of me and you don't bottle up out of some twisted sense of pride.

Jaune: Yeah? Well... I just wanted you to know, you know? Just in case. I mean I could be dead this time tomorrow so...

Ruby: Don't talk like that...

Jaune: Sure. Well I think you should hold onto that, *points at the rose* it was a gift I think but you should have it.

Ruby: It smells nice.

Jaune: Smells like you, I bet.

Ruby: How do I smell?

Jaune: Like roses. Its clean. And gentle. And a bit like cinnamon and sugar. I like it. It tastes good.

Ruby: Oh? Is that all?

Jaune: *laughs* No. It drives me nuts to smell you. Its crazy how you're inside my head. Leave me the fuck alone! Won't you?

Ruby: You want me to leave?

Jaune: No. I want you to stay. You just live rent free in my mind. I cannot stand it.

Ruby: About that coffee...?

Jaune: Yes. Sure. You and me. We'll get drinks and chat.

Ruby: Sounds like a lovely evening.

Jaune: Yeah. It does. Doesn't it? I think.... I think things will go better if you break my heart....

Ruby: What?

Jaune: I mean... I'm a mess. And you're perfect. I'm like a human garbage can.

Ruby: You're sweet and kind. And you always take the worst responsibilities on yourself. Because you're a leader. Sure you're always training to take down Cinder but she has to go. I don't know how we can possibly take her prisoner. I see the good in you. You can't hide it from me. Honesty and hard work. That's what you're really like. And I love that about you.

Jaune:

Ruby: This is when you say it back.

Jaune: Fuck. I love you too Rubes. You... you have me pretty firmly in a corner here.

[i-got-da-rubes]

NEVERMIND IT MEANS ALL COPS ARE BASTARS

omg i love transgender leo ninja turtle

[arachnixe]

I have my personal misgivings about Cohost, but trying to dissuade people from joining it with transmisogynist accusations of pedophilia against its staff is bullshit. It's amazing how many easily duped rubes there are here ready to swallow just any old garbage, huh?

[rainbowsky]

Anonymous asked: hello! i came across something on twt and i was wondering how true it was. i seen your post ab the leds and banners and how antis hate them however there was a supposed video on twitter where [redacted]

This is in reference to a previous post.

Sorry, Anon, some of what you posted is blatant lies (even if they aren't your own lies) and I can't publish that on my blog.

Also, forgive me for being totally fed up with this topic.

Yes, it's absolutely true that ALL LED BANNERS are generally not allowed at events like this. Fans sneak them in. All fans of all colors. MTJJ sneak them in, turtles sneak them in, Yixing fans sneak theirs in, etc. etc.

In fact, even rival fan groups have helped each other smuggle in their light banners at times (such as for Tencent 2020, when turtles and others helped XFX get their banners in - and brought red banners themselves - so they could give GG his red ocean). Fans have also shared solid color panel graphics to each other that they could load onto their phone screens to hold up when their light banners were confiscated.

It is a widely known reality that light banners are generally considered contraband at events, especially large ones.

No doubt there is plenty of footage of security yelling at fans and arguing with them about their banners. Some of which involved security coming after motos and trying to get them to lower their banners (there are clips of that in my post!), and some yelling at turtles. This should not be even remotely surprising.

No doubt there was also a tsunami of complaints from MTJJ about the presence of turtles. They love trying to get turtles into trouble, creating huge disruptions around turtles and then pointing at that disruption and saying, "See, they're so disruptive!"

As I said in my post, security is concerned with visibility and comfort for all audience members and will require obnoxious banners to be lowered/removed, regardless of color.

Solos cherry-pick clips that seem to support their claims, conveniently either editing to remove context or only showing situations where turtle banners were being addressed by security - all to deliberately mislead people into thinking it was specific to turtles. Especially on Twitter, where antis deliberately mistranslate things for unsuspecting international fans.

As I showed in my post, they will present clips that appear to be about one thing when it's actually something else entirely. Don't believe their BS. Don't be a rube, my friend. Use your head.

If you're going to go around Twitter and read posts from antis, that's your choice, but realize you're going to be duped, misled and abused, and don't come crying to me about it. I'm getting tired of people sending me anti messages and asking me to parse them. You should be able to do that yourself by now.

And if you can't or won't curate your online experience, and if you're determined to hang around haters on Twitter and get drawn into hate threads there, don't import their garbage here. I and others on Tumblr are here for a reason. We're not on Twitter for a reason.

Please read this post for more info.

And I have this final word on the topic: All of this is just fanwar BS. It really doesn't matter who did what, which banners were what, who said what, etc. etc. Focus on DD and his performance. Nothing else is important.

[rynekins]

Welcome, friends, to the Sideshow Bob Awards! Recently I did a few polls about certain elements of Sideshow Bob episodes, and now I shall give some commentary over the results!

Why did I do this? Eh, funsies, but I’ll always look for an excuse to ramble about Sideshow Bob.

First up is the Award for Humor. Which Sideshow Bob episode is the funniest? Black Widower makes Honorable Mention. While an important episode with a lot of notable moments, I might not personally rank it amongst the funniest. Though Bob’s dry wit (as always) wins me over, and Bart explaining Bob’s plan to Homer, worthy of a chuckle.

This overall ranking, out of all of the polls, I agree with the most. Sideshow Bob’s Last Gleaming has some stellar Bob moments: Bob on helium, mimicking the Colonel, his pathetic attempt to kill Krusty, and who could possibly forget the Air Show Rant.

“Air Show? Buzzzzzz-cut Alabamians spewing colored smoke from their whiz jets to the strains of Rock You Like a Hurricane? What kind of country-fried rube’s still impressed by that?!” As for the Air Show Rant, I am also giving it the Award for Best Quote. Unfortunately, this poll did not have much engagement. I expected people to be shy, and I suppose I should have made it a normal poll for people to vote on instead of asking for more direct input, but there are simply too many good Bob quotes to narrow it down! How could I possibly? I had not the strength. His exasperation with his peers, mocking elitist tone, the venom, the sass, the hip swaying and crossing of his feet, going wall eyed and throwing his arms out cuz he always gotta be extra, if there is a perfect Sideshow Bob quote that exemplifies his character it would be this one.

Aside from that, mocking the military and garbage television, this episode offers a ton of laughs, worthy of at least Third place.

Brother From Another Series takes Second, and has a different brand of humor, but the kind that always gets me. It’s supposedly written like an episode of Frasier, which means the script is chock full of one liners from two guys too smart for their own good, constantly trying to one-up eachother. You wonder how both Bob and Cecil could ever end up in Springfield, an environment of pure dumbassery, and it clearly has had an effect on them (they must have drunk the water). Personal favorite moments are the boys with the slack-jawed locals, “especially Lisa, but ESPECIALLY Bart”, and “utterly hopeless”.

To no one’s surprise Cape Feare takes the crown. It often makes top 10 lists for its humor alone, and with good reason. This episode is packed with jokes, funny drawings, and goofiness, with running gags so memorable and powerful that they would get callbacks even 30 years later. The idiocy is at an all time high, both with Homer and Bob, which frankly is necessary to balance out the more sinister and rather tense scenes. Homer scaring Bart, the rakes, the drive through the cactus patch, The Rakes, “Hello Mr Thompson”, THE RAKES. This episode is iconic, and I completely understand why.

Next up we have the Award for Animation. For our Honorable Mention, we have Bob’s official debut, Krusty Gets Busted. I’m glad to see some love for season 1, when everything was experimental especially with the animation. The linework, expressions, poses, models, colors, everything seems off by today’s standards, but you can see the effort and love put into it. There’s something beautiful about how rough it looks because you know what a struggle it was to make it work. And it does work. But I’m biased toward things that are hand drawn.

In Third for this category, the award goes to Gone Boy, the complete opposite of Krusty Gets Busted. We have the modern era, the clean colors, the characters staying on model, a lot of the stiffness that a lot of people don’t care for. However, there are moments that feel like a return to form in this episode. My eyes lit up when I saw Bob’s face as he encountered Milhouse. Then the dance he does as he sings is song-o. The wintery environment, a few ambitious angles, some great character acting. It’s proof that newer episodes have their beauty too. I only wish that the hallucination sequences went harder. Imagine, if you will, they suddenly went Courage the Cowardly Dog mode on you and changed mediums, turned into something more experimental and maybe truly nightmarish. This episode was great, but it could have been legendary. I am grateful for the feast we got. In Second, Black Widower returns, which dare I say has been robbed. Yes, I think it should have been First. This episode is gorgeous, but as I have established, I liked the earlier, rougher animation.

Every single frame of Bob’s rant on MacGyver is absolutely wild, as is the skipping through the flowers. The colors in the night scenes. The glow from the explosion. There’s so much character here, so many expressions and extra motions with hands in scenes, even when no one is talking. The weight in Bob’s hair when he throws back his head for a maniacal laugh. What this episode’s got is flair. Once again, Cape Feare takes First. I can see why, because it is a very good looking episode. One of the best. Oh, how I wish the show still looked like this (the latest Treehouse Ei8ht made me crave what we have lost). But I must wonder if it might be taking the number one spot because of how memorable it is with other factors. No doubt it’s funny, with a lot of well done and imaginative scenes. Bob’s lil dance during his work out comes out of nowhere and is hysterical. You think for a minute that the episode is going to cheat you when the elephants are trampling him off-screen then it pans down to show you the exact moment one steps on and off his skull. The increasingly elaborate set and costume designs for Bob’s theatrical performance. There is a lot of artistry to appreciate here. It’s cinematic even. Then again, a lot of the cinematic moments can be attributed to its source material: the 1991 movie Cape Fear, some moments directly inspired. Not to say that all of the work was done for them, certainly not. They put their own spin on things.

Perhaps the placement is deserved. The shot that goes from Bart’s window, flying over all of Springfield, to Bob’s prison is particularly impressive. There’s a lot of juicy saturation and shifts in color reminiscent of shots from Krusty Gets Busted and Black Widower. It’s safe to assume that I’m drawn more towards character details, and little things like all the lower angles we get from Bob work well in conveying menace, as if we, the audience, are in danger

This concludes Part One of the Sideshow Bob Awards, In Part Two I will cover Best Song and Best Mystery. As for intermission, picture THE RAKES!!!

[i-got-da-rubes]

@battiegutz for your material

how it really went down

[infoglitch]

The rose reaper and her shining dork knight: tunnel vision of love

(Yes this is a Lancaster post. Does this conflict with the fact I ship white knight. No. Because I wanna write something cute. So fuck you I'm doing this.

Very sorry for the horrible characterization. It's been a while since I've seen rwby. Anyway enjoy motherfuckers.)

Jaune was sitting in his dorm cleaning of crocea mors as Nora and ren had gone of to gods knows where. Leaving jaune on his bed humming to himself as he finished the cleaning process before grabbing the sheath and placing away his sword. Then the door bust opens as a groan was heard as none other than ruby rose walked in as her face was plastered with a look of exhaustion.

Jaune: hey crater face how you feeling.

Ruby walked to his bed before face planting on it as she let out a loud muffled yell.

Jaune: oh that's not good. Wanna talk about it.

Ruby looked at him as she nodded before jaune picked her up and placed her on the opposite end of the end of the bed.

Jaune: so what's the big thing.

Ruby: it's yang. Ever since her and Blake got all buzz buzz-

Jaune: buzz buzz? What's that supposed to mean.

Ruby: yang and blake had this combo attack I called bumblebee so now that their dating I've been calling their little moments buzz's.

Jaune: so it's just a joke referencing an old attack name. yeah now I see why yang always made puns. No offense rubes.

Ruby: none taken. But my point is. Now that their all buzz buzz and now that Salem's been taken down. Those two barely pay attention to anything else except each other.

Jaune: remember ruby their only a recent couple. Love can sometimes put people in a state of tunnel vision. To busy running to the one thing they want they cant see anything else. But now I ask why is this bugging you?

Ruby: ok so me, yang, Weiss, and Blake were chase down some grimm that were terrorizing a town and the grimm were obviously disorganized because ya know their queens dead. So it was easy right?

Jaune: and I know where this is going. Let me guess yang was being stupid and flirting with Blake. Causing atleast one grimm to good knock in. Right?

Ruby nodded profusely as jaune sighed before pulling ruby in and hugged her small frame.

Jaune: people tend to have tunnel vision when in love rubes. Remember how I was in beacon?

Ruby thought back to the old days of beacon before snickering as she remembered that one time jaune showed up to team rwbys dorm with a guitar all just to ask out Weiss.

Ruby: yeah you were pretty dumb back then. Not gonna lie I probably would've been left speechless if you did that for me.

Ruby looked at jaune with her silver eyes peering Into him with a soft gentle gaze.

Ruby: but I am happy for yang. Those two seem great together. Even if it's an pain in the butt to deal with them being dumb dumbs.

Jaune: that's just love rubes. That's just love.

The two stared at each other before pressing their foreheads together as they just stay there. Content with everything. Before a low growl could be heard from ruby's stomach as the two look down at her stomach before looking at each other.

Jaune: let's get something to eat. My treat.

Ruby: it better be vomit boy~.

Jaune: pfft. Ah shut it crater face.

(sorry this was so damn short I just wanted to make something because Im bored. And I felt like being basic. Anyway I'm gonna get put on a pike now because I'm pretty sure a few people are going to be hunting my head. See you all when I bring more garbage writing. to your front door.)

(god I stayed up way too late I can feel death getting ready to crawl up my spine and suck my- no. This ain't Wattpad.)

[i-got-da-rubes]

True indecision is not being sure if I should make Mikey a musk turtle, striped mud turtle, or wood turtle

[knightfire]

Hell fucking sucked.

He'd never had any delusion about going anywhere else if the place existed, but that didn't change the fact it fucking sucked. The fact that it looked like a shittier bloodstained Vegas stuffed full of nightmare freaks was just the shit icing on top of the garbage cake.

It was just his Luck. There was "life" after death, and it was just a worse damned version of the one he'd finally shrugged off like a worn-out old sock. He'd been a husk of a man before he'd woke up dead. Now he was a mockery of one. Maybe a husk was all he'd ever be? It was the only thing he knew how to be now.

Have it your way, universe (you cruel as fuck bitch). So be it. He was a Husk.

He'd officially lost everything: his Luck, his life, his human form, and what passed for his dignity. Shit, he couldn't even keep a cloak around his misshapen new monster-body. The fur covering him prickled at his skin, overwhelming his body with an unyielding staticky torment that refused to give him peace.

If this was how he was spending eternity, then господи it was going to be torture. For now, he'd keep his head down and (hopefully most of) his freakish new limbs close until he got a better feel for things. Fuck’s sakes, if he could just stop feeling like his shoulders were being dragged off his back and his skin was made of billions of needle-like teeth for five goddamned minutes…!

His new tail chose this moment to make a wild, spastic flail that sent it slapping the ground with emphatic fury. As he grabbed for it, the heavy limbs on his back swept up in anxious reply.

Naturally, a guy like him wouldn't get fitted for a halo and a harp, but getting wings was a shock. What the fuck was he supposed to do with the damned confusing limbs, fly? As a stand-in for his long-ago magician's cape, they were a lousy substitute. The stupid things were heavy and made his back ache, to boot. His posture, which had always been bad, had become even more slumped in an attempt to balance the damned extra weight out.

For now, he did his best to stay small and unnoticed. He'd found a small alcove adjacent to a long, twisting alleyway full of run-down gin joints and seedy pool halls. The space was narrow and filthy, but shit so was he. It was perfect camouflage to just sit here and drink.

Husk raised his bottle again and sipped hesitantly at the wine inside. It was disgustingly old, soured, and cheap (again, just like him), but at least it was alcohol. Fuck knew he needed the stuff more than ever now. What was it going to do, anyway? Kill him? That was a laugh and a half.

He'd blundered into the business of mugging dumbasses by pure accident. He'd manifested in this sphere newly fitted with murderous-looking claws instead of fingers and helpless, terrified confusion in his brain. His feral, near-berserk state had been the perfect storm for convincing the startled imps who’d happened to be close to him to throw their wallets at his face and run.

When Husk managed to calm down and take in the world around him, he'd realized how fucked he was. He was in Hell. Actual Hell! And for fuck’s sakes, the place was a capitalist shithole to boot! You needed goddamned money just to exist, even here! When he took stock of himself he found there had been a decent wad of strange paper bills in one of the pair of billfolds now in his possession.

Well… Easy money was the best when you needed cash. All it took was knowing how to find the right mark and having the balls to take what you wanted. It wasn’t like Husk had ever been shy about stealing from those he could fleece. He just used to do it with a little more style and panache.

Maybe he would again, eventually. Maybe he’d find himself a deck of cards and put on a little show to give the rubes some dazzle with their upcoming destitution! For now, he’d take what was easy to get. So long as you were smart about picking your target you were golden. During his wretched excuse for a life Husk had gotten very good at the skill of finding the right patsy to bilk. It was a more important skill now than ever before.

This new world was full of demonic beasts that called themselves people. Even with his hideous fangs and claws, Husk was not an especially impressive specimen to anything with more gumption than a nervous imp. He wasn’t even an attractive monstrosity. The disappointments of Life seemed to have a twisted, malicious glee in manifesting in death’s realm, too.

On that let-down of a note, there was magic here. Real magic- Power beyond anything Husk had ever dared dream could be real. It should have been the best news he’d ever had. His childhood self would have thought the idea of a magical world was magnificent! In the short time he had been here, however, the dream had turned to nightmare.

So long as your soul’s anchor was intact, any damage to the physical shell that was your body would heal or re-manifest around it eventually. Your soul would return to it from wherever spilled souls went. Anchors could be erased, though. Something called Holy Gilt could do it. Souls could be severed, never to manifest in Hell again.

Whatever happened to severed souls could surely not be worse than some of the non-eternally lethal things that Husk had witnessed. He’d seen both Hellborn natives and mortal-born sinful with abilities that made his guts riot in horror. He’d seen things. Heard things. Smelled things, for fuck’s sake!

Magic? Power? It was capable of shit he’d never wanted to consider before!

The notion of potentially having some of that real magic had filled Husk with utter dread. If he had any of that shit, he wasn’t ready to know about it just yet. He’d stuck with concealing himself, hiding to keep watch and learn the ins and outs of this nightmare world. If he needed cash, he had the bank of Some Damned Chump to hit up for a withdrawal. Why not?

Ya gotta eat, after all. Or drink, at least. If he was already in Hell, there was no reason to get worked up over what was “right” or “wrong”.

A bottle of something not completely unlike Ripple was clutched, over-tight, between his marked palms. It sloshed as he carefully tipped it back and drank. His claw-fingers had no grip on glass and the multiple new limbs sometimes wanted to try doing things he told the old ones to do. It made any careless motion or mental gesture dangerous.

At least there was alcohol in Hell. The place wasn't all bad. A man could get used to just about anything as long as there was enough booze.

A man…? Huh. Did that still apply to him? He wasn't a man anymore; he was a furry monster. His new body could, charitably, lend itself to being compared to a bat or a cat. What kind of cat had wings? Bats didn't have feathers! How did this TAIL even work? What kind of ANYTHING felt like it was made of pins and needles just because it fucking existed? Whatever the shit he was, it felt like an inside-out porcupine!

He curled his shoulders forward, draping himself in the dark shadows beneath his brightly-fledged wings. Oh, what he wouldn't give for the simple dignity of a damned cape right now. The bottle slipped from his clumsy paw-hands with a crash, decorating the ground in cheap wine, broken glass, and all the bitterness in Husk’s heart. Fuck. So much for the one bright spot of THIS day in his eternal punishment.

A mechanical monstrosity of a sinner who looked like the result of a drunken one-night stand between a Ferris wheel and a steam locomotive trundled past Husk's alcove on the busy street. The guy was somehow wearing an elaborate, smartly tailored suit. He looked like he was a big shot or something.

How the shit did he even fit into the get-up, Husk asked himself. It wasn't just an eyesore, it was baffling. It was like an optical illusion made of fuck-you energy, impossible to not feel slighted by. To add insult to injury, the guy even had a cape! He had a gleaming black cape made of shining satin instead of disjointedly twitching pincushion wings!

Fuck that guy, Husk thought to himself in a jealous fury. Fuck that metal son of a bitch and the carousel horse he spun in on.

As if the universe had heard his thought, a large shipping container suddenly fell from the garnet-hued sky. The heavy metal box landed on the unfortunate sinner and crushed his metal body flat with a crash and a lingering noise like a dying calliope.

Huh, Husk thought to himself in dull surprise. He'd never called down the wrath of Gravity on some hapless schlub before. Did he just discover he had some kind of crazy magic ability to summon death from above?

Nah, he’d been earnestly wishing doom on more assholes than that one since he’d gotten here. Either it was just a coincidence or… maybe his Luck was finally changing? The idea buzzed in his nerves, dancing down his spine to make his palms tingle warmly. If he just had some cards, he could test this theory.

If what just happened was proof that he’d hit on a Lucky streak. Finally things were looking up. Husk stood, peering intently at the carnage as half a dozen sinners leaped on the broken container and the broken body beneath it, already fighting over the spoils pouring from the sides of the split container. He had no chance at getting a piece of that. Feverish need cycled between his burning brain and his mutated hands. Cards. He needed cards. Dice. Something!

If fortune had decided to favor him, it was high goddamned time- and time was a-wasting.

He stood, wavering in uncertainty for a moment as a new swarm of looters joined the first set warring in the street. With a deep breath, Husk stepped over the broken glass and spilled wine. A few strides later and he was pushing his way into the tide of not-quite humanity moving past on the dirty sidewalk. He let the unsteady pace of the demons surrounding him guide his steps.

He relaxed enough to let his new wings waver, half-raised, as he followed the meandering crowd. No one seemed to give a shit about his state of dress (or lack thereof), but the unsteady reflexive movement of the wings did keep most of the other sinners pushed away from him.

"Small blessings," his ma would say.

Ma… Where had she found herself when she left him? If Hell was real, what about the other place? Ma’d been a saint of a woman in life. She didn’t end up in this pit of despair, right?

Right? Please…!

Husk swallowed back the sentiment that rose in his throat and kept his ears and eyes alert. If Luck had decided to grace him, he'd see where it deigned take him. He still had a little cache of stolen money to his name and nowhere in particular to be. Why not roll the dice (literally, figuratively, or both) and see what happened?

He was already in Hell. What was the worst that could happen to him?

[i-got-da-rubes]

My laptop fucking crashed

10/10 slideshow

I hope you’ll like my slideshow guys

[ceilingfan5]

2 3 18 29!!! :0

2. Do you plan each chapter ahead or write as you go?

OKAY so like. with chapter fics i usually start out with a garbage outline and then upgrade to a numbered outline, usually when it gets out of hand? the garbage outline is the like, general life and main beats of the fic, and then the numbered outline just sort of puts events and like, bits, or even some important dialogue vibes, in a way i can reference, but i cannot stress enough how like. dog shit rube goldberg my writing process is, i thought the cruise fic was going to be like 20 k. im serious. the marbles are traveling and where are they going on their little journeys? who knows but there sure are bells and whistles and funny little trick jokes

which is to say: yes. there is a "plan" and also the fic truly does just happen to me. i am less of a farmer and more of a truffle piggie. im gonna go find the stupidest possible thing for taako to say brb

3. Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic

i feel like the above says a lot already but legitimately like. if im vibing with an idea, i go off my few little bullet points and let the spirit take me? i write in order, i have a hard time doing things out of order, and it really does just happen as if you turn a page in a book and now instead of blank there is story there. or like. i imagine the story and then i make it happen, and usually especially let the dialogue take it where it wants to go! plinko baby

for a whole fic, i start with the spaghetti process, usually a prompt or au or setting, and then go "you know what would be so fucking funny" and escalate from there, usually with a friend i can bounce off of like thie or noodyl. and i make the garbage outline with a shitload of bullet points in a document with a stupid title. and then i just fling myself into the abyss and hope the words will catch me! trust fall <3 and when it gets too big to wrap around the initial outline, i make a Slightly more detailed one, and bounce some more ideas with friends. it helps to have someone who is as insane about your writing as you are <3 <3 <3 <3

18. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

truly last fucking minute usually, altho like, revenge plus one was the working title i defaulted to after absolutely the most painful titling process ive ever been a part of. i've just been calling it cruise fic so long, it's kind of like the goose game in my head. Untitled Cruise Fic. i thought that would be confusing tho. maybe i should have had more guts. i love a good reference or a pun or even like, part of a line from the best bit, like sticker stars

29. What’s your revision or editing process like?

ailem is right, that's between me n god

[skunts-own-truth]

You could not pay me to watch that D&D movie. It looks worse than the awful Warcraft film that came out years ago… and as I watch all these basic nerd properties get turned into absolute garbage films, here I am hopeful a Warhammer Fantasy movie would be good. What a fool I am, a rube, and a dingus in a man’s body. Still, I hope that thing flops so hard WotC chokes- unlikely, but a hope nonetheless.