#very nearly deleted this

[beacon-of-chaos]

These days, tumblr folks are into something called Tummy Tuesday.

[metamatronic]

hey shoutout to middle school me, who (during the FNaF 4 era) drafted an AU where a vengeful Crying Child was the real murderer behind the entire franchise—having possessed his own father in order to kill his bullies and stuff their bodies into the suits as ironic retribution (the MCI), leaving a tragically confused William to deal with the aftermath and consequences. it’s not nearly as funny as what I ended up with but damn was it interesting.

[canon-gabriel-quotes]

wear headphones :)

Wasn't expecting another one of these so soon huh.

Transcript and context under the cut

Transcription: Fuck. Goddammit. K-Ugh. *whimper* Come on...

Context: An inside joke between some people on twitter resulted in them commissioning artists to draw gabe failing at pottery and it became a trend for a bit. This is him voicing that specific scenario

Audio source (Yeah I edited it a little to make it worse. I will not apologize.)

Link to a thread of the pottery fan art. This isn't all of it but this is the only collection I can find to link to. -> Link

If anyone has more that wasn't included here feel free to drop a link in the replies :0

[so-sick-of-17]

Seriously?! There is a chat gbt Anderperry fic on ao3? Gag! Get that away from me. No one wants to see your disgusting chat gbt story. I can’t call it a work because no work was done and I can’t call it fanfic because how much of a fan could you possibly be if you don’t write it yourself!? “I wanted to see a happier ending to the movie.” There are hundreds of stories you could have picked from that a real person actually created because they care about the characters. They are all infinitely better than anything a computer could have produced because they actually have a human connection and people who actually are capable of liking the movie and the characters. That tag is my happy place and it is tainted by that monstrosity. Normally I would be incredibly annoyed no matter the fandom, but for Dead Poets Society?! Really?! The movie about how art is tied with humanity?! Did you watch the movie?! Every single character would be disgusted by the use of ai to produce art. Art doesn’t exist without humanity and some cheep to imitation is an insult to anyone that actually works to make art.

[brainworms-all-night-long]

Baby Nine AU: Has Tails ever been a little brat to Nine unintentionally while playing with him? Did he get his lesson, comeuppance, or punishment for it.

For example, Tails discovers that Nine can be scuffed and picks him up that way over and over while giggling due to him curling up or going limp. Sonic sees this and picks Tails up by his scruff after first giving him an ignored warning not to do it. So, Tails is curled up or limp in air jail for some time due to still having his own scruff reflex and Nine is laughing at him while playing.

Hmm, no. At least definitely Tails would never do such a thing, intentionally or unintentionally, since he's like one of the people to know how much distress unwanted physical contact would bring to the poor little guy. And I also don't thinks Nine would really be up to "playing" and openly giggling in like the innocent baby sense. Ik is said "baby" Nine but I actually meant like, a four year old baby. Like just a little guy, Classic Tails age. Little-er than he was in the show, but not as little that it would get him classified medically as a literal baby. I need him to already comprehend and have some of his trauma for later story purposes :)

But if someone were to roughhouse or obviously bring little Nine to distress with no signs of stopping – let's say... Renegade – who's not actually trying to be deliberately malicious or anything, but also doesn't necessarily understand Nine's trauma (cuz why would anyone tell him abt it) and just can't help it because the fox is literally just so so tiny and so so adorable with his little angry face.

Either way doesn't excuse him and he's definitely in for a stern talking-to from a certain other fox and a hedgehog pretty soon...

[velvetjune]

it took an embarrassingly long time for me to realize that the book annihilation was going to be nothing like the movie

[daz4i]

me continuing my bpd dazai analysis trying to phrase anything that isn't "dazai has bpd bc i said so" when my brain is as tired and messy as it is right now

i don't have a reaction pic here. imagine me looking frustrated and tired on my computer

[wolframs-other-art-blog]

[kirishwima]

why am i so weak to praise

[anti-dazai-blog]

it’s so wild that I started watching bsd when I was atsushi’s age. and now I’m turning. 21.

[squirtbagging]

eliter in salmon run is a double edged sword because while it is fun people suddenly decide luring isn't important anymore

during that rotation I remember people kept sniping the goldies during glowflies FAR before they were close to the basket like. do you not see what you're doing???? our quota??? Im going to be sick

[jacksintention]

Concerning the conversation about love and hatred, I've compiled a few of the lines I've saved through these last two years that at times make me think of Jack when it comes to this topic

Estas manos, que son tuyas,

pero que al verte quisieran

quebrar las ramas azules

y el murmullo de tus venas.

¡Te quiero! ¡Te quiero! ¡Aparta!

Que si matarte pudiera,

te pondría una mortaja

con los filos de violetas.

¡Ay, qué lamento, qué fuego

me sube por la cabeza!

(...)

¡Ay qué sinrazón! No quiero

contigo cama ni cena,

y no hay minuto del día

que estar contigo no quiera,

porque me arrastras y voy,

y me dices que me vuelva

y te sigo por el aire

como una brizna de hierba.

.

Love has no middle term; either it destroys, or it saves. All human destiny is this dilemma. This dilemma, destruction or salvation, no fate proposes more inexorably than love. Love is life, if it is not death. Cradle; coffin, too. The same sentiment says yes and no in the human heart. Of all the things God has made, the human heart is the one that sheds most light, and alas! most night.

.

It is sometimes said that the sword wears out the scabbard. That is my history. My passions have made me live, and my passions have killed me.

.

Stronger than lover’s love is lover’s hate. Incurable, in each, the wounds they make.

I adore you, but I hate you too. You’re a prison smothered in flowers. I can’t stand this enchantment anymore, I can’t stand being bewitched like this–when I look at you, my gaze turns to nothing but a mirror of light, I’ll stare at you hypnotized for ages, and when I stop seeing you I’ll feel you, and when I stop feeling you I’ll die.

.

Someone tells me: this kind of love is not viable. But how can you evaluate viability? Why is the viable a Good Thing? Why is it better to last than to burn?

.

Life is a series of obsessions one must do away with. Aren’t love, death, God, or saintliness interchangeable and circumstantial obsessions?

.

she is the only thing of importance, because I have a God-relationship to her.

.

it is not she who binds me, but I who have made use of her to bind myself.

.

The thought that you exist is so divinely blissful in itself that it is ridiculous to talk about the everyday sadness of separation—a week’s, ten days’—what does it matter? Since my whole life belongs to you.

.

What have you done with me? he asks. I have repeated you.

.

But I do feel strange-almost unearthly. I’ll never get used to being alive. It’s a mystery. Always startled to find I’ve survived

Walking home, for a moment / you almost believe you could start again. / And an intense love rushes to your heart, / and hope. It's unendurable, unendurable

.

I clung to him as though only the one who had inflicted the pain could comfort me for suffering it.

I could be free … If I could pluck out the memory of him from my heart as easily as his heart was plucked from the fire, I could be free.

.

I am imprisoned by devotion. I shy away from people. I am alone. I fall into depression.

She was the world That he was losing; and the world he sought Was all a tale for those who had been living, And had not lived. Once even he turned his horse, And would have brought his army back with him To make her free. They should be free together. But the Voice within him said: “You are not free. You have come to the world’s end, and it is best You are not free. Where the Light falls, death falls; And in the darkness comes the Light.

.

I miss you like a knife in my throat.

.

Only love can save me and love has destroyed me.

Should I be grateful or should I curse the fact that despite all misfortune I can still feel love, an unearthly love but still for earthly objects?

.

My songs are filled with poison - Why shouldn’t that be true? My heart bears a nest of serpents And also, darling, you.

.

their love is like hatred

.

She did not yet love him enough to be cruel to him.

.

our hatred is almost indistinguishable from our love

.

under the sincere guise of hatred I simply loved […], only in this type of love (repulsion) I loved him with greater strength than had I loved him in the simplest form — attraction.

.

Perhaps he was handsome, perhaps I found him attractive, perhaps he repelled me too.

.

Struck by the abstract nature of absence; yet it’s so painful, lacerating. Which allows me to understand abstraction somewhat better: it is absence and pain, the pain of absence—perhaps therefore love?

.

Eroticism is the brink of the abyss. I’m leaning out over deranged horror (at this point my eyes roll back in my head). The abyss is the foundation of the possible. We’re brought to the edge of the same abyss by uncontrolled laughter or ecstasy. From this comes a “questioning” of everything possible. This is the stage of rupture, of letting go of things, of looking forward to death.

.

Love is madness. Doesn’t everyone agree that you’d do anything, endure anything, to be with the ones you love? So either you’re willing to let them use you with any sort of cruelty, so long as they keep you—which makes you a fool—or you’re willing to commit any cruelty, so long as you get to keep them—which makes you a monster. Either way, it’s madness.

.

This madness is so deep-rooted and so useful that it is impossible to realize what would become of each of us if it were someday to disappear.

.

If I must die of fire, why not let me die of yours: knowing that you are the author of my doom will make it more endurable to me

.

His desire for loyalty was naive, he hadn’t understood that being loyal wasn’t so tidy, being loyal means being disloyal to everything else.

.

I have always loved you / Always dreaded you

You will betray me, as I have betrayed, / And I shall kiss the hand that does me wrong

.

Listen: the way I loved you / was like my palm over a flame.

.

If I have the destruction of something that I once loved to carry with me at all times, isn’t it like I still have a companion?

.

One can fall in love and still hate.

.

and I will kill thee, And love thee after.

.

Yet, other characters, namely Heathcliff, Catherine, and Lockwood, remain more actively at war with love in their adult lives. Some force, as inexorable as the wind sweeping over the moors, seems to have bent their lives into a pattern of frustration that their own struggle for relief only aggravates. Their need for love is expressed, not through loving, but through the anguish of loneliness. Paradoxically, though they do not know it, this loneliness is the one condition necessary for the fulfillment of their most profound fantasy concerning perfect love: a love, that is, perfectly protected against the threat of abandonment that in childhood these sufferers learned that love entails.

.

I feel you there, in every pore. Your silence clamors in my ears. You can nail up your mouth, cut your tongue out — but you can’t prevent your being there. Can you stop your thoughts? I hear them ticking away like a clock, tick-tock, tick-tock, and I’m certain you hear mine.

Odi et amo. quare id faciam, fortasse requiris? nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior.

I hate and I love. Why do I do this, perhaps you ask? I do not know, but I feel it happen and it is excruciating.

[gammija]

help, an annoying teenager joined a discord server im active in

[rawliverandgoronspice]

Or the reason you’re overthinking it is because you’re just trying to find a reason to be mad at the game when you could use that energy at something else to make you happy instead of nitpicking at it.

I suggest you block my account and go have fun with the game unfettered by my takes, you have my Blanket Permission! I'm just a rando with a tumblr blog. Worry about your own happiness first.

[fuzzro]

[d0d0-b0i]

SILLYPOSTING!!!! anyway happy 1 year t anniversary to me ^w^