#so I guess I won't share that

[marlynnofmany]

Singing and Other Noises

If you have to clean the bathroom on a multi-species spaceship, you can at least take the opportunity to annoy your coworkers with some high volume space shanties. The acoustics of most bathrooms I’ve been in are great, and this one was no exception.

“If you find snacks in high places, adhesive eyes making faces…” I sang, passing the sanitation wand over the floor. “Someone gives thanks to the void, and knives to the droid … Then you might have some humans onboard, onboard, you might have some humans onboard!”

Paint laughed in the hallway. “I don’t think anyone would miss the fact that we have a human onboard.” When I leaned out to grin at her, she continued, “You’re very loud.”

“This is the perfect place to sing!” I said, leaning back and switching to a different song. “You’ll hear us singing loud and proud, in halls and hulls and ventilation chutes. You’ll know us by our range and joy, and we sing better than you!” It echoed nicely.

Paint was shaking her lizardy head. “Are there any quiet human songs?”

“Oh sure,” I said, looking for spots I’d missed. “Calm melodies for a relaxing afternoon, lullabies to soothe babies to sleep, plenty of those. They’re just not as fun. I like the ones where you can really feel your lungs vibrate, you know?”

Paint was giving me that cocked-head look that said she wasn’t entirely sure what I was talking about, but didn’t feel like saying so. “Right. I think that one made the floor vibrate too.”

“Oh, you should meet an opera singer. They can shatter glass.”

“What!” Paint stepped closer, switching her tail. “You are making that up.”

“No, really!” I said. “It’s very impressive. A rare talent for sure.” I got to my feet and emptied the sanitation wand into the trash chute. “My voice is nothing special. Pretty good, I like to think, but no kind of superstar. Still, singing is fun.”

Paint seemed to be having trouble coming up with a compliment. “Your voice is very… clear? Low? Is that a good thing?”

“I like to think so.” I put the wand away and washed my hands. “I can sing the low notes easier than high, which is great, because I enjoy them more. I think that makes me an alto? Contralto? Something like that. Not a soprano, at any rate.”

Even with her orange scales, Paint’s expression was a distinct mask of polite blankness. She nodded, hands clasped together.

“Not much for singing, I take it?” I asked.

Paint exhaled and dropped her hands. “I just don’t see the appeal,” she admitted. “It’s only talking! In a distorted voice!”

I switched off the light and joined her in the hall with a head bob of agreement. “Yeah, I suppose it is. Some of it’s fast and good to dance to, though.”

She pointed at me in excitement. “The dancing does make sense! That’s fun! But I just cannot understand the noises that go with it.”

I shrugged. “Eh, don’t worry too much about it. There’s bound to be lots of things that any given species does that makes no sense to others.”

“Like those shiny rocks you insisted on keeping?”

“Hey, that’s not just me,” I protested. “Zhee and Trrili both wanted some too. And you’ve still got those smelly seed-things that you liked so much.”

Paint raised her snout in pride. “They remain beautiful. Coals, Eggskin, and Captain Sunlight will agree with me!”

“And those are all the Heatseekers on the ship, which is exactly my point.”

A high-pitched noise that I’d been barely aware of grew louder, drifting down the hallway all faint and screechy. I had no idea what it was, and judging by Paint’s expression, neither did she.

“Is that metal scraping?” I wondered.

“I don’t think so,” Paint said.

The sound continued, changing in tone like an alien violin. I turned in place, trying to locate it. “Is that music?”

Paint rubbed her earhole. “It’s unpleasant.”

“C’mon, let’s make sure it’s not actually a problem of some kind.”

“Yes,” Paint said with a sigh. “Ignoring a mechanical failure because we passed it off as horrible music is not something I want on my record.”

I started off down the hallway. “I think it’s this way.”

Ready as I was for a long and mysterious hunt for the quiet shrieking, I was almost disappointed to find it coming from the third door we reached. This was the door to Coals and Trrili’s translation workroom. It was shut. I hesitated over the opening panel, then knocked instead.

The noise stopped.

When the door slid open, it was to a vision of exoskeletoned nightmares, shiny black and red, with pincher arms, mandibles, and a pair of antennae angled into a very irritated expression.

“Hi Trrili,” I said. “Everything okay in there?”

Paint added, “We heard a noise—”

The door shut in our faces. After a moment, the screechy serenade resumed.

I blinked. “Rude.”

Paint had her hands over her earholes. “What is it??”

“Probably not a machine failure,” I said, wincing as the noise approached nails-on-chalkboard levels. “Let’s go ask Zhee.”

We walked very quickly away, and found Zhee outside the kitchen talking to Eggskin. The sound was faint here, but still audible.

“Hey Zhee,” I said cheerfully. “Can you tell us what in the seven spherical black holes Trrili is doing right now?”

Zhee threw his own purple pincher arms in the air. “Butchering a classic,” he exclaimed. “I’ve told her that she’s got the middle part backwards, but she insists it’s a regional variant!”

I glanced at Eggskin, who was just shaking their scaly head. “So it is music, then.”

Zhee folded his pinchers with a flare of antennae. “There’s a skreeking competition at Basal Station,” he said. “She’s under the impression that the judges there will enjoy regional variants that are wrong.”

“I see,” I said, wondering if I should ask the obvious question.

Paint beat me to it. “What’s skreeking?”

“Leg-singing,” Zhee said. “You know.” He moved a hind leg in a way that made a brief screech.

I knew I was staring, but it was either that or burst out laughing, and that was rarely complimentary. You’d think I’d get used to discovering ways that my alien crewmates resembled Earth animals, but you’d be very wrong.

Paint let out a gusty sigh. “I don’t understand that kind of singing either,” she said. “This makes even less sense than the other one!”

“Remember, there’s always dancing,” I told her. “And if it makes you feel better, I have no idea how to dance to the noise Trrili’s making.”

Zhee hissed quietly. “No one could dance to that. Not without tripping over every other limb.”

Eggskin spoke up. “Well, I’m certainly not going to try. Would you three like to help me settle on the primary meal for tonight’s dinner?”

I smiled. “Oh, I’m sure we won’t disagree on anything there.”

~~~

Keen eyes might recognize the shanty lyrics from a couple older posts. I even used one song in The First Time Traveler to Survive, which is a different storyverse entirely, but it's too much fun to leave there. I'm going to say humans invented it twice, and no one's going to stop me!

Anyways, this is the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

[remcocoa]

Tadej Pogačar & Jonas Vingegaard + Hands (2024 edition)

2024 Tour de France, Stage 1 | 2024 Tour de France, Stage 2 | 2024 Tour de France, Stage 7

2024 Tour de France, Stage 11 | 2024 Tour de France, Stage 11 | 2024 Tour de France, Stage 11

2024 Tour de France, Stage 12 | 2024 Tour de France, Stage 15 | 2024 Tour de France, Stage 15

2024 Tour de France, Stage 16 | 2024 Tour de France, Stage 17 | 2024 Tour de France, Stage 18

2024 Tour de France, Stage 19 | 2024 Tour de France, Stage 20 | 2024 Tour de France, Stage 20

2024 Tour de France, Stage 20 | 2024 Tour de France, Stage 20 | 2024 Tour de France, Stage 20

2024 Tour de France, Stage 21 | 2024 Tour de France, Stage 21 | 2024 Tour de France, Stage 21

2024 Tour de France, Podium Ceremony | 2024 Tour de France, Podium Ceremony | 2024 Tour de France, Podium Ceremony

2024 Tour de France, Podium Ceremony | 2024 Tour de France, Podium Ceremony | 2024 Tour de France, Podium Ceremony

2024 Tour de France, Podium Ceremony | 2024 Tour de France, Podium Ceremony | 2024 Tour de France, Podium Ceremony

[squirrelno2]

All right so I haven't been active in the Julie and the Phantoms fandom in a long time, and although I know there are definitely still people creating and reblogging in the fandom it tends to be a much smaller handful of people than it used to, which for me felt disheartening and was part of why I've backed off from it. I'd love to see new stuff more regularly and start recirculating older things just to remind myself and anyone else who needs it how much I love this silly little show.

All this to say, I am putting out feelers to see if anyone is interested in a blog that runs consistent, casual event-type things for the fandom to try and revitalize interest in jatp fanworks, like featured weeks for individual characters here, fic rec events, etc. I'm toying with ideas to inspire people to pick up their wips, spark new stories, and highlight older content that didn’t get much attention or would just be nice to see again. I’d like to create a community space to liven the fandom back up for people who miss the show or got into the fandom after the hype died down. Does that seem interesting to anyone?

[aria-ashryver]

hiya darlings! health update below the cut

TW: cancer

so, further to my last health update - I've been on a break from my regular immune therapy treatment because it was causing heart failure, and I had just started a new course of medication to try and counteract this.

i've been monitoring my symptoms - my heart seems to have recovered a tiny bit, but I have been dealing with steadily worsening headaches since early September. Headaches are a known side effect of this particular medication, so I was just planning to bear it until my next scheduled oncology clinic.

here's where things have taken a turn. Part of my break period involved getting a heart scan, and a CT of my head, abdomen, and pelvis -> since I had paused my immune therapy, we had to check the cancer hadn't spread in the interim.

I got a call yesterday with my CT results. Unfortunately, it is showing multiple lesions in my brain. The headaches aren't a side effect of the meds like i thought. I have cancer again. In my brain.

uuuhhhhh, not good news, huh? :/

I don't know what the game plan is - im expecting a call tomorrow to tell me to get my ass to the hospital so I can talk to my oncologist and see just how bad things are, and how we are going to proceed with treatment.

It's likely I'll be doing radiation therapy, but I don't know much yet. They put me on an urgent course of steroids to reduce the swelling in my brain around the lesions, so with any luck, my headaches won't be so bad pretty soon! (Bc holy crap they have been bad. People don't warn you just how much cancer hurts, y'all. Not the treatments, the treatments are bad, yes, but the cancer itself, as it is growing. I'm reeeeaally looking forward to a little relief lol)

Anyway, sorry for the shit news!! My presence online will probably continue to be infrequent, but I'll make sure to post now and then to let you know I'm still alive lmao. WHICH I PLAN TO BE. I have kicked Caesar's ass once before, and I am planning to do it again this time too ✌️

sending you all my love,

aria

xx

[spacecatdet]

Already seen victim blaming on xitter 👍 Lets not do that and lets leave the hermits alone. Make up your own minds on if you should support Iskall. But I feel like if one of his VH team members leaving for differing morals, the hermits going back 6 plus years to remove him from thumbnails and titles, and removing him from the site and merch should be enough Doc even said they can't talk about it which could mean anything, including something legal. Mumbo said there were no minors invovled but doesn't mean others weren't since there ARE victims Just leave the hermits be, and let the victims decide if they want to come out. And stop victim blaming lmao

[abbeyofcyn]

Meet baby Leo(nardo)

After a first bonding went very wrong, I finally got Pippin a tiny new friend.

I hope Merry can rest peacefully knowing his brother has someone to care for now he's gone ❤️

[swordsonnet]

sorry but saying that the accessibility needs of mentally disabled people are just preferences or about "comfort" is blatantly incorrect. if i can't enter a building because the bright lights and loud noises would send me into a meltdown, then i can't enter the building, and that's not less important than me not being able to enter a building because it's not wheelchair accessible. if you genuinely think that mentally disabled people aren't really struggling, and that it's okay to mock their very real concerns, then that just shows that you've been refusing to listen to their experiences. do better or shut the fuck up.

[my-secret-sketchpad]

I decided to share a bit about my Divine Comedy retelling/reimagination I am not sure how to label it. It has Beatrice midway though her mortal life going on a field trip to hell (with Dante included, the boy sure likes revisiting that place I wonder why 🤔).

[morningstargirl666]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Did some work on the next two chapters of tbbw instead of working on the rewrite, so here's a rare sneak peak:

“So, care to tell my why you insisted on being so cryptic over the phone-”

Klaus froze halfway inside the trailer Sam had directed him to with less than detailed instructions, eyes widening on the arrow embedded in Sam’s chest and the long, thin metal wire attached to it that led to a suspiciously shaped bomb-like box fixed onto the trailer’s wall.

“Let’s face it,” Sam said with a wince, standing very, very still. “This isn’t the worst thing you’ve caught me doing.”

Still, like he was, in fact, attached to a bomb.

“Sam,” Klaus said eventually, stepping fully inside and closing the door without taking his eyes off the bomb-like box, the pin attached to the wire shaking every time Sam breathed. “Tell me that is not a bomb.”

Sam hesitated for half a second. “It’s not a bomb.”

Klaus glared at him. “Sam.”

Careful not to twist his body, Sam turned his head towards Klaus, licking his lips nervously. “You know, if you think about it, this is all your fault.”

Klaus felt his eye twitch. “Excuse me?”

“You’re the one that told me to look into this Connor Jordan guy!”

Klaus gaped, face twisting with anger. “I told you to look into him, not to engage with him!” he hissed, stepping forward. His eyes trailed down to the arrow embedded in Sam’s chest, thankfully several inches too far to the right to have hit his heart.

“How was I supposed to know he had a bomb hooked up to his death-trap trailer?” Sam hissed back, earning him another glare that effectively silenced any further protests. “Look, can you, I don’t know, just cut the arrow out. I would myself but…” 

Sam raised a hand, moving to touch the metal wire attached to the bomb.

“Don’t-” Klaus warned, too late, closing his eyes when Sam flicked it, the vibration travelling all the way down to the pin. It didn’t pull out. Sam brought his hand away, making a sound with his mouth that mimicked an explosion.

“I’m going to kill you,” Klaus deadpanned.

“Not if the bomb kills me first.”

“Just-” Klaus snapped his mouth shut, using every shred of willpower he had to stop himself from strangling the idiot. “Don’t move. Let me think.”

He moved around to stand behind Sam, inspecting the arrowhead sticking out of Sam’s back as he contemplated his options. It wasn’t some amateur thing, crafted carelessly and put together - it was professional. A thick, sturdy, pitch-black shaft with a sleek metal head, dipped in vervain if the sting when he touched it was anything to go by. His eyes narrowed, grabbing a mean-looking combat knife the hunter must have left behind off the side and resting the serrated edge against the shaft, wondering if he cut the head off. He couldn’t break it with brute force - too risky. The jolt could set the bomb off.

“So, how well did you know this Pastor Young?” Sam asked to fill the silence as Klaus worked, grunting a little as Klaus began to try and saw it off. He reached down to the table next to him to grab one of the pieces of paper strewn all over the surface, ignoring Klaus’ earlier warnings of staying still. “Did you talk to him much at your mother’s Ball?”

Klaus didn’t look up from his work. “I can’t say I did. Why?”

“I think he’s the one who contacted your hunter,” Sam said, causing Klaus to look up. He raised the letter, so Klaus could see it. “Mad as a box of cats by the way. He wrote a letter about sacrifice and war brewing in Mystic Falls.”

Klaus paused what he was doing to look over Sam’s shoulder at the letter, skimming the contents. “A greater evil is coming?” he read aloud, brows furrowing.

“Yeah, crazy, right?” Sam hissed as Klaus resumed his work, grunting painfully as the arrow shifted inside him. He forced a smile, tilting his head in Klaus’ direction. “Hey, do you think he was talking about you?”

Klaus sent him a mock-glare, unimpressed. He ran the blade across the arrow’s shaft perhaps a little too forcefully, nudging it inside Sam’s flesh, causing the younger hybrid to wince, stifling a cry. He nearly didn’t remember to remain still in time.

“I can’t cut it out,” Klaus decided, observing this and stepping back. He dropped the bloody knife on the table. “It’s too thick and one small movement, it’ll get very messy very fast.”

“Then what do we do?” Sam asked, voice shaking. His brave bravado was finally cracking.

Klaus stared at the arrow embedded in Sam’s chest, gaze flickering up to meet his. “You’re going to tear it out.”

Sam frowned, looking quite annoyed. “And how does that stop me from getting fried again?”

“You tear it out and I’ll flash you to safety before that bomb ignites.”

Sam paused as he thought that over. “Are you sure you’re fast enough to do that?”

Klaus turned, opening the door of the trailer, knowing that was one less obstacle he had to worry about. “Only one way to find out,” he muttered under his breath. Sam still heard him.

“That’s not reassuring, Nik,” he said, eyes slightly wide, almost pleading. “I don’t want to end up as a human kebab.”

Klaus raised a challenging eyebrow, stepping towards Sam and grabbing his shoulders. “Do you have a better idea?”

“No.”

“Then human kebab it is,” Klaus declared, nodding. “On 3?”

“Fuuuuck,” Sam whispered, breath shaky.

Klaus ignored him, beginning the countdown. Sam raised his hand, carefully wrapping his fingers around the end of the arrow’s shaft.

“1…2…3!”

Sam yanked the arrow out and Klaus heard the click of the pin flying out but he was already moving, hands gripping Sam’s shoulders, pulling him with him as he flashed out the trailer. The world blurred around them and behind, the air roared as the bomb ignited, exploding through the trailer and blasting out the windows. The heat of the explosion licked at their backs, the force of the blast sending them flying several feet before crashing into the ground, saved from the worst of it. Groaning, they both rolled onto their backs, Sam the first to sit up on his elbows and survey the damage.

“Well, that wasn’t too bad,” Sam commented, eying the smoking wreckage.

As if taunted by his words, there was a terrifying hiss from the trailer and a second later, the gas supply had ignited, a secondary explosion ripping through the structure, blasting it to smithereens. Pieces of roofing and wall were thrown in every direction in the ensuing fireball and they both ducked, flinching away from the dangerous fiery projectiles as they crashed to ground all around them.

Slowly, Klaus turned to look at Sam, his expression thunderous. 

“You were saying?”

[damiel-of-real]

im surprised ive never really paid much attention to deltarune's menu background before because its honestly really fucking good. every part of it is absolutely beautiful. also i really want to believe that the big fucking energy pillar is the angels heaven

[queerstudiesnatural]

Hi besties <3 

So. to put it plainly, I am Struggling. Mentally, and financially, because I just quit my job for mental health reasons. I’m still gonna be working full time for a couple months because I didn't want to abandon my students, but then I’ll only keep a part time job that’s gonna allow me to pay rent, but not much else. 

I kinda need your help, but instead of making a donation post, I made a Patreon.

If you become a patron, first of all I’ll love you forever. You’ll also get to commission things like edits, amvs, art, and even handmade things and objects. Also you can always unsubscribe after a month, I won’t get mad <3

But if one-time tips are more your vibe I also have a Ko-fi. 

And finally here’s a link to my Etsy shop 🌸

I hope you’ll consider checking these out. I love you best friends. Mwah <3

[girderednerve]

no love at all for t*mothy sn*der but there are a bunch of library types posting that "do not obey in advance" screencap & i think it is good advice & addresses the extremely common phenomenon of "quiet censorship" or automatic capitulation that a bunch of libraries participate in. it's just also funny to me to act like this will be a new problem? the library that i work for now is run by people who are proud of their professional uprightness & has a board-approved policy against censorship but also treats all people under 18 as the property of their parents & age-restricts AV materials. oh?

[lia404]

"Ai, living has no answer."

"When we're in pain, we search for an answer to feel better. A concise, absolute answer. But if you really want an answer… it's that there is no answer. There are no absolute in this world. Even if we think there is, in the end, it'll only make us feel better for a moment.

If there are no absolute, then what's left?

Bonds. Bonds between individuals. Bonds between one another. That's all there is.

That also changes with time. A huge trigger can cause a huge change. Bonds may be severed. But new bonds can also be formed. So living is a series of bonds.

That's what life is.

I have to do that forever?

Yes.

That's a lot of work.

Yeah.

I'd need to be so strong.

That's why people become stronger. That occasionally leads to conflicts. But even if that happens, we have to keep fighting. Keep searching for bonds, even if there's no answer.

You can't rush living."

So I saw on MyFigureCollection that October 13 was maybe possibly Yusaku's birthday, although I couldn't find any reliable source for this. I'd have loved to do something nice and light-hearted for the occasion, but I'm still feeling too strongly about it all. So here you are instead: Happy (maybe) Birthday, Yusaku! Please have some trauma to go with your trauma. Here's to another year of fending off expectations and looking for your own life and its non-answers with eyes wide open and always filled with hope.

[nemaliwrites]

have a lil snippet from the siren AU! changing up my writing process for this piece - I'm drafting this one in prose rather than my usual zero-drafty style, so we'll see how that changes things!

The first thing your uncle says to you when he picks you up from the station is: "Stay away from the water."

You pause halfway in the front seat, mouth still poised to shape the syllables of, Fine, how are you?

If this were coming from anyone else, you would have written it off as a joke. You may not know your uncle very well - you wouldn't even have recognized him if not for your mother showing you his picture before you got on the train. The crease between his eyebrows, though, tells you that this is not a man who smiles very often, let alone laughs.

"...What?" you ask warily, car door still open as though leaving yourself the chance to bolt right back onto the next train home.

"The ocean," Dojima clarifies. "You've never been, right?"

You shake your head. If you're being honest, there isn't much you're looking forward to about this trip - a city boy through and through, you're far too familiar with all of the horror stories about the countryside - but the one exception to that is the ocean.

It's one thing to know that you live on an island, to know that Japan is surrounded by water: the Sea of Okhotsk, the Sea of Japan, the East China Sea, and the crown jewel, the Pacific Ocean. But picturing it is something you've never managed to do. Sure, you've seen pictures of the ocean before - but where does it end? What must it feel like, to be faced with that much raw power? To gaze out at that endless expanse of blue, and see no end in sight?

[arklayraven]

Will you believe me if I said I have more icons I could share? lol

Anyway made some genderfluid themed Asmodeus icons. 💖

Like/Reblog if you use or save please. Credit not necessary but appreciated! 💜

[drop-the-curtain-123]

ok very specific gripe about assassination classroom

But how comes the series is all "be yourself, use your hobbies, despite everyone judgement, for good" then just... Never questions the roasting of Mimura air guitaring?

Look at my boy! He's so unwell afterwards

Ik now there are more scenes later in the manga that again use it as a Punchline. It just encapsulates that weird gap of "things that are just never Not the Joke/Mocked" which kind of defeats the show messaging 😭

t's not even used in a "do it anyway, grow strong and proud" like some others, it's just. There.

(hi rinka btw happy belated birthday to you)

Anyway unconsequential nitpicking rant over, have a good day.