#HEY I NEVER REBLOGGED THIS????? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iclimbtreestofeelalive · 2 years

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okay i'm gonna say something and you all have to give me a chance. ready?

we need to stop making fun of poor american southerners who distrust the government. it's real easy to call them all conspiracy theorists and dismiss them, but half the time, its built off of a genuine feeling of being abandoned by the infrastructure meant to keep them safe.

in appalachia, a lot of people lost their homes because of coal mining operations. a lot of people worked in those mines, and then when the mines stopped being profitable, they got tossed out with the bathwater. a lot of appalachia is poor, malnourished, and i don't blame them for not trusting rich politicians who dismiss them as stupid and lower class.

if yall actually listened to half the things poor southerners say, you'd realize that a Lot of common leftist complaints are virtually identical to the rural grandma who doesn't hold with electronic money and politicians. it stems from a genuine feeling of abandonment and ostracization by the people who run the country. functionally, someone living paycheck to paycheck in the city in a tiny apartment has infinitely more in common with someone from rural appalachia than a politician. high rent, high taxes, food insecurity, feeling lied to by those in power, a general sense of frustration. it just sounds fancier coming from a city mouth than one with shitty teeth and a southern accent.

tl;dr stop dismissing southern people as stupid. they're absolutely right not to wholeheartedly trust politicians, because they've been fucked over by them time and time again, and honestly, id rather talk to a southern person who openly distrusts their representatives than someone from the city who wholeheartedly believes that Frederick Jamestown OldMoney III genuinely cares what people think and can be convinced to change his ways.

#appalachia #gettin real tired of this #hot take: southerners were right when they said never trust a politician theyre the devil #its easy to laugh but jesus christ are they wrong??#those in power rarely came to power through just means #there i rephrased it fancy will you listen now #jesus christ #some people genuinely were never taught the fancy words to make people pay attention so you have to pay attention anyway #please note that i didnt mention race because thats an intersection im not qualified to talk about and would very much like to hear about #but jesus christ. have you all considered that maybe. just maybe #southerners arent stupid. trump was fucked up and awful and a piece of shit #he won because he at least Appeared to be sympathetic #leftists so so rarely try to actually understand poor people they dont like and its gonna be what fucks this country over #edit: hey terfs reblogging this 👋#fuck right off unless youre prepared to include trans people in this statement #poor trans southerners exist!! i know an awful lot of them!!#im trans and southern and if you touch my post you acknowledge that trans people are breathing thinking people #with our own rational thoughts and opinions and live complex lives and face similar issues

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orchideae · 4 months

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A little unpopular opinion on something I've seen happen more commonly throughout November/December and wanted to address quickly for my own blog: Please never hesitate to reblog anything from me. You see me reblogging a sentence starter list that you like? Go for it and reblog it from me directly without any pressure on you whatsoever to send anything into me before doing so. You like a GIF-set or musing that I reblogged? Nab it from me, it'll brighten my day to see that we share an interest in something. I like to see interaction between me and anyone who follows me. I like to see that little activity notification light up.

Honestly, it simply reminds me that we're all part of a community, and more specifically, a fandom that consists of characters and nations that we all came to love and then share that amongst ourselves. And honestly, seeing a reblog happen shortly after me but it's from the source, creates (in my opinion) an odd sense of chosen disconnect between people that can feel awkward, it's as if we're walking on eggshells as to not rub each other the wrong way. But what's wrong about going 'Hey, I see what you reblogged, I like it too!', it even gives you potential common ground to start a conversation. We're a community, and I don't know about you, but I like seeing people interact with each other beyond merely threads and notes. It's the little things that matter, after all.

#[ psa. ] seeing isn't always believing. and if you can't trust your eyes; you certainly can't trust rumors.#[ i feel like this whole 'reblog karma' rule has scared people so much into stopping with behavior that... ]#[ i think was healthy. interaction; no matter how small; makes it so much easier and comfortable for people to... ]#[ interact because you almost become 'familiar faces' through these tiny little asks. ]#[ the amount of times i've entered dms kindly/respectfully after someone's reblogged something from me-- ]#[ and the person and i proceeded to just gush about the reblogged fanart in question. or something similar. ]#[ which then makes any further ooc interaction so much easier and nicer-- the initial anxiety people may face is lessened. ]#[ because you've already found common ground. ]#[ like i don't mean to force anyone to reblog from me-- but it's like it's so obvious so often when people... ]#[ see something from you but then reblog it from the source. i dunno if it's just me but it feels odd. ]#[ it feels as if someone thinks reblogging from me would step on my toes or rub me the wrong way and i don't see?? ]#[ why that's a thing? it's so silly. reblog from me; feel welcome to do so. we all love this fandom. we all love our characters. ]#[ and each others' characters. it's why we interact; right? ]#[ any way. hi-- yes. i just mean never feel odd to reblog from me. if anything i encourage it. ]#[ i'll smile and nod at you in my activity; and you'll also pique my interest to be like 'hey! good taste 💙 ]#[ any way; i hope people are having a good weekend! ]

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suburbanlegnd · 8 months

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trying to like/reblog a post from a blog that has you blocked is so fucking funny lmao. like how could YOU block ME? Unbelievable, shameful even.

#i can hit the like button ten times and wonder wtf is wrong with tumblr and then be like 'OH RIGHT HEY RANDOM HATER'#every day i find a new blog that has me blocked lmao #but like why? what did i do?#i guess it's because im a swiftie 💔#my reputation's never been worse 😔#BUT JOKES ON YOU BITCH #I CAN REBLOG YOUR POST TO ONE OF MY SIDEBLOGS CHECK MATE BITCH #rambles

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the-nwah-embassy · 4 months

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why is tumblr actively trying to shove percy jackson down my throat? like, I have never liked a PJ post. never read the book. never followed a blog. never looked it up on the internet. never interacted with it at all. ever. but it's like "based on your likes!" no matter what blog I'm on every few scrolls. i have no idea what these people are on about, mate. bruh i dunno anything about percy jackson but this ain't makin' me want to learn.

#im an elder scrolls blog #i reblog 8 dagoth urs and disappear for a month #its that and like female celebrities #Ive never liked Jlaw ever but for some reason it thinks thats all I wanna see #please leave me tf alone with that #if it ain't a dunmer I don't care #they're just swingin wildly now #'hey ur bisexual so heres a bunch of rich white girls!'#like ok no thank you #I like cats and elder scrolls and an occasional shitpost

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withacapitalp · 1 year

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Here have a snippet of the next chapter for HTRAJ y'all :D I'm mid write and I'm vibin' with what I have so far

“He’s long gone, Eds. Can we go back inside now? It’s fucking freezing out here,” Gareth asked, rubbing at his bare arms and shivering as the frigid winter wind raced past them. Eddie could barely feel his own body, but he ignored both the cold and Gareth’s words, walking towards his van.

Steve was there. He had to be. He had to be, or else Eddie was going to lose his mind worrying over what was probably nothing, and he might say something incredibly stupid when they actually found Steve, and that would ruin everything they had worked so hard to build.

Luckily for Eddie’s increasingly fragile heart and mind, he spotted a familiar pair of beat up old converse poking out, attached to dark wash jeans that he instantly recognized. Eddie practically melted in relief, jogging around to the other side, needing to see Steve’s face.

He opened his mouth to spout off some stupid quip about dining and dashing, but he stopped short the second he saw Steve’s state. All of the relief instantly vanished, replaced by a bone deep dread that overtook Eddie’s entire being.

Steve was sitting on the ground, his knees pulled close to his chest and his eyes staring firmly at the pavement. He was as still as a statue and just as silent, barely even blinking as he took shallow uneven breaths. Eddie could see him shaking from where he stood, trembling like a leaf in the wind as he continued to just stare at nothing.

Something was wrong.

#tw anxiety #tw panic attack #htraj #Steve joins hellfire au #just feeling like sharing a lil bit #lmao I told myself I wouldn't and I'll probably end up deleting these tags so like #feel free not to read these I'm being a little petty #if I had a nickle #For every time someone clearly took 'inspiration' from an idea of mine and basically blatantly just did their own version #And then pretended like they had never even seen my thing or barely even knew about it #I would have two nickles #and that's not a lot #but its WILD that it happened twice #the worst part is if they had just been honest and been like hey you inspired me w x y z so I decided I wanted to write my own!#I would LOVE it #I would reblog it chat with htem be friends #Instead I feel like someone took something I worked on and cared about and tried to steal it and pretend they didn't #y'all I adore hearing when people wrote something bc I wrote a fic that inspired them it's such a compliment #This just feels #uncomfortable #ANYWAYS that's Liam's lil rant in the tags today #Again if you have a problem pls just ignore this it's literally just me needing to verbalize how not okay about this I am

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cimicherrychanga · 2 months

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and nobody asked abt the outfit i had last week....fake rama fans

#oh hey rama u never showed us your pink gothy donniecore outfit that u mentioned in the tags of that post u reblogged days ago #i just finished ART of it. if u even care #shut up dave

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philzokman · 8 months

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i hate those stupid arse posts that’re like ‘human beings deserve FOOD and WATER reblog if u agree 😍😂 IGNORE if u hate every single minority group and have been arrested 894 times due to hate crimes’ shut UPPPPP stop farming interactions off marginalised communities and peoples insecurities for the love of god

#to be clear #this is not in attack of a) posts of people clarifying they won’t tolerate certain behaviours/‘unfollow if ur x’#like that’s perfectly reasonable yeah making sure social media’s a safe place for u is so important #but when it’s so clearly done by people they’re like ‘hey guys if u don’t reblog this post then ur homophobic’#it’s just so stupid and annoying and like. i understand the idea may be so ur followers can see ur reblog and understand ur acc’s safe #and that’s amazing right but. that’s never how it’s worded nor how it usually works out idk #i’m rambling a lot and idk if this even makes sense but ykyk #pls for the love of god understand u r not a bad person for not reblogging ballslover22 #AND by ‘stop using people’s insecurities’ i’m referring to ppl thatre like fuck i must be homophobic bc i accidentally scrolled past that 😥😥#i just forgor if there was a word for that #lea.txt

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mortellanarts · 4 months

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2023 go bye bye

#999 spoilers #art summary #art summery 2023 #my art #shoutout to all my monster high drawings that are still in the oven #I haven't posted them anywhere but! my friends made them pins and I've sold them on cons throughout the year :3 #I only started drawing them as a request from a boothmate actually and they're such fun designs to draw!!!#I went to a lot of local conventions to participate in the artist's alley and made so many friends that way it was wonderful #I think the next thing I'll reblog will be the game I worked on!#found out the nda doesn't cover me simply saying 'hey I worked on this thing coming out in a few months!'#so I made artist and cosplayer friends selling my art on the beach and I got my first proper job #....then I proceeded to give me a shoulder inflammation because my setup was terrible and it had to catch up to me eventually #but! already managed to get a new tablet and desk for myself!! it's even a screen tablet so there'll be a learning curve but I'm excited #I'm hoping this display will make things easier I always had trouble sketching on digital #and I am more carefully taking breaks now also because turns out relying on hiperfocus is bad for you? never knew #I was going through some stuff in the middle of the year there though I had so many vent drawings of akane from may to october qwq #not featured here are the tons of utena and umineko wips I have accumulated those were my favorite new media I got to experience for sure #in fact I'm watching the adolescence movie rn!! what in tarnation is this last act lol whatever! go Anthy go!!! floor it queen #also not featured the tons of oc stuff I made :D I'm glad I feel like I can start properly working on them soon ^^#but yeah that's that I felt like writing a whole diary entry in these tags and you read it and that's what tumblrs all about ♡♥︎

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katiekatdragon27 · 6 months

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🩷💫SEND THIS TO OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL, KEEP THE GAME GOING. 🩷💫

I finally have the chance to use these again!

No need to do anything w/ this, just here to support my friends (and people who I just like in general) :D

@cloudy-skyes @rainbow-wolf120 @cilekixxes @maxphilippa @electricairfryer @feralferretxp @itsmegroovee @knightobreath @kaytjohanna

#koy chats #some of you i've never talked with so if you wanna talk say hi plz :)#some of you i haven’t talked to in a while so HIIII GUYS I STILL REALLY LIKE YOUR STUFF EVEN IF WE DON'T SAY MUCH #some of you are my newer friends so HIIII I'M HAPPY YOU WANNA TALK TO ME AND SHARE IDEAS #some of you are my regulars so hey. you should text me more.#reblog #sharing the love ig lol

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zersk · 6 months

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watching someone who used to be friends with me blindly reblog claims that "From the River to the Sea" is an antisemitic dogwhistle is a wild thing to experience whenever it happens.

especially if they reblog a post who's source is a blatantly pro-israeli propaganda station whose citation basically amounts to "just trust me bro"

#hey if youre reading this #i really genuinely hope one day a single fact ever penetrates your thick skull #and thats that youre kind of a self-absorbed moron #and if you cant do that fuck off and never come near me again #seriously youre supposed to have gone to school for thsi shit why cant you double check a single goddamn fucking source you reblog

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seaalgae · 4 months

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while i'm doing fucked up and evil intercommunity discourse i do need to say that it hits in a way that the "transphobes say 'don't be surprised if testosterone doesn't turn you into an anime twink' but every trans guy is trying to be the bear-est bear possible" post that went around a bit ago set it up as something transphobes say to show how out of touch they are, but it's also just. specifically the statement that's outlined as transphobic is the type of post that goes unquestioned for thousands of notes within queer spaces practically once a month when it's about transfems

like i think i've been trying to find ways to outline how specifically caustic even the most open queer spaces tend to be about transfems for years now and i think this is just the example i'm going to latch onto, that this thing that is a pretty obvious, conceptually ridiculous expression of transphobia is also just a genuine sentiment that goes viral among even other trans people pretty regularly, and it's such a strong sentiment that it almost feels taboo to even mention that transfeminine people are also capable of making informed decisions about trans health care as the bare minimum 'hey trans women are still people' type of statement

(because i know people will interpret this in bad faith i'm making this because i've seen enough genuine, unironic "transfeminine people don't be worried if you don't turn out like a petite anime girl :) they're not real" posts enter my mostly trans timeline with enough regularity that i've Been mad about it, and it really just took seeing this one really good post point out that, yeah, that's just a transphobic sentiment, to really drive that home)

#reblogs off because i don't trust like that sorry #like i'm not qualified to talk about the actual differences in depth and experiences nor am i interested in doing so #and that's a thoroughly dead horse anyway and i've never had even passable conversations about it in all the time i was beating it #the specific context here is just that it's like #hard to get people to acknowledge specific ways that even queer communities reflect cultural transmisogyny without it becoming a whole thin #the venn diagram of people that will laugh at the bear post and people that will actually just say that about transfems is almost a circle #and the fact that i can only barely say 'hey transmisogyny might be a real thing' to that circle feels very connected in this moment #i dunno this will probably read like shit in the morning but that's a problem for future me #this is the least acceptable version of a post i've been thinking about for days #but it's the one that happened when i was actually in front of a keyboard

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canarydarity · 1 year

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Hard to tell how indicative the bones on the floor are of anything about the catacombs themselves being how, every few minutes, Pix kills another skeleton adding to the collection. He swipes his sword through the one before him, and it collapses so readily into a pile of bone—like it was made to, like it was just waiting on his sword—that he has to wonder, not for the first time, what was holding it together to begin with. The bones rattle and clatter against those already littered around, and Pix sighs at the further disturbance to the scene as it was when he had entered; accounting for the damage likely done by mobs was going to make this hell to study.

He grabs another torch and sets it inside one of the empty sconces that still adorn the walls, readjusts his grip on his sword—he can hear more lingering around the next corner; the low hiss that means a spider is near, the groan or two of a zombie.

Pix picks up a chunk of cobble from the ground and tosses it down the hall, waits. Sure enough, out scuttles a spider. He disposes of it quickly enough, but it seems he’ll have to venture down the dark hall to goad the zombies. He glances at the clock he placed in his hotbar before embarking on this mission (it’s hard to tell how much time passes underground—something he learned quickly in his line of work). There’s still a good amount of daylight left, and he wants the catacombs cleared; he has other projects he has to move on to, things he needs to finish; he’ll just get through a few more halls—it won’t be an issue, surely.

But the new corner he rounds remains dark even as he places a torch behind him to mark the way back. The groans can still be heard, but a zombie is yet to lumber his way, and so he has to wonder what's beyond his admittedly limited sight. Pix shuffles another foot or so forward, a torch in his non-dominant hand now as well, hoping for light, for vision. The research part of him—the logical academic—knows that it shouldn't still be this dark with the torches placed behind him nor the one in his hand, and that part is so much louder and more important than the one that knows this means something is wrong, the part that says turn around.

The torch is lit, he can feel the heat of the flame as he observes it flicker in and out but cast no shadow on the wall behind—a wall Pix can’t even see but knows is there all the same. The circle of light provided extends no further than an inch or two out from the flame itself—comparable more to that of a birthday candle than a lit hand torch. If he hadn’t been staring directly at it, he would’ve assumed the fire snuffed out.

He feels his eye twitch and his brows furrow. Academia liked concrete answers, things that could be explained and reasoned away—unequivocal proof. But Pix had always had a soft spot for the inexplicable, the ineffable. It was nice when he studied something and found an answer, it was riveting when he didn’t. How much more exciting to study it again and again, a riddle that begged not to be solved. (How much sweeter the prize if he were the one to figure it out in the end).

His interest was piqued. He could feel it, the way his attention focused and his surroundings blurred and left him; his body on standby, his sword hand lowered almost subconsciously.

In other words, it was entirely his own fault when the zombie grabbed him. Panic is never a good thing to welcome into a fight, but it likes to show up uninvited anyway. Pix's entire career revolves around studying human behavior, about how human nature cannot be fought against though it oft leads us to our own downfall and ruin. He finds it uncanny when he's reminded that this is a phenomenon from which he is not exempt.

In haste, he elbows the zombie behind him and turns, back now to the darkness—the one not even his torch could dent. It’s an ugly bugger, eyes soft and misshapen from decay and skin so leathery it’s as if it's been treated and is ready for use as a saddle or armor. Logic replaced by horror, before he can run it through it advances, arms out, and Pix drops his sword to reach back, holding it at arm's length itself; their arms interlocked, pose not unlike meeting an old friend again for the first time in a while. His hands grip the woven fabric of what's left of its shirt, too old and worn to be from any time close to recent, and, despite the very real danger, his mind takes the time to process the period-accurate fabric, the hand-stitched design. He blanches again as he looks into its horrible milky eyes—this zombie was from the capital.

Not sentient enough to know why it’s not actually getting any closer to Pixlriffs, the zombie makes a noise that sounds frighteningly human in its frustration and steps forward, and in his distraction, Pix lets it. The push seems to make his brain function yet again, and he shoves the zombie backward a good few paces away, but the momentum sends him stepping back himself, and his foot finds not purchase but, instead, the disturbing lack of solid ground, and with nothing left to do, he falls.

He hits the ground with a thump and a crack and a lot of other sounds he would rather not describe as he feels they were likely very undignified. Winded but, it appears, still in one piece, he grabs another torch and strikes it against the wall, holding it up above him when it lights and shines this time as torches normally do. He buries the part of himself that is disappointed at this—the part that wants to panic and complain finally louder, now, than the part that says hmm.

He didn’t fall too far, it seems. Now that the torch is lit he can see the gap he’d fallen through, just under a dozen feet or so above where he lays. It's obvious even looking from below how the stone floor had crumbled away, taking maybe one or two hits too many over time from overcrowded mobs or shifts in terrain or pressure aboveground. He tilts his head back but sees only another dead end behind him, and ahead looks like a further, deeper hall of the tomb he hadn’t uncovered yet, though the path is obstructed by debris from above; a net of spiderweb blankets the pile of stone and dirt, but no spider seems to be left guarding the web.

His friend above seems to have lost interest now that he’s fallen out of sight, and its moans and groans get further away by the second.

No immediate threat, Pix lets his head fall back onto the ground and takes a breath. He knew the crypt would be full of mobs, he knew it’d be hard, but still…

No, it’s worth it. It will be worth it. He has a job to do.

At least he isn’t defenseless—it’s more than he can say for the dungeons. Not a weapon to his name, fists wrapped in tape so red you’d never believe it’d been white to begin with; knuckles so raw and scraped and beaten by the time he’d made it out that they’d scarred that way—permanent marks of the fighter he was, of the fighter he’d proved to be.

There was a fear there, too, at that very real and physical understanding of permanence. His studies proved expert in providing examples of what was permanent and what wasn’t, and where people weren’t, things were. He’d spent enough time studying what could be learned about a person by the things they left behind to begin to wonder if anyone at all would’ve remembered him if he’d died in those dungeons—not a singular weapon or item for him to leave behind and tell his story.

Pix stops wallowing. He sits up and reaches over his shoulder for his pick; he isn’t shocked to find that the shaft had snapped in two from the fall, it having been strapped to his back. He sighs, tossing it aside as useless. He’ll make another.

He takes the time to remind himself again that he knew it was going to be difficult, and that difficulty was no reason to not continue. But it didn’t just feel difficult it felt…inhibiting. Dissuading, deterring, impeding. It felt deliberate. It felt like, stay out; like, we don’t want you here; like, leave us to our rest.

(it wasn’t, it was something far more sinister. An idea he’d never thought to consider; like a torch was giving off too-little light in the hallway of a dark, long-forgotten crypt, he couldn’t see any farther than what was right in front of his own face. How cliche it’d be, in the end, when it came to pass—the academic too invested in their own research, too dismissive of the present danger posed until it consumed them. He’d have a moment to laugh about it later, when the dread had settled in and all options—or lack thereof—exhausted. While on the topic of permanence…

It was not go away that the tomb was saying, not a driving force out that was being enacted upon the archeologist, but a more frightening call of stay. A threatening but desperate find…become…join…

No, if it were trying to keep him out, why would it keep pushing him deeper? Add this to the list of things he’d realize too late.)

He stands and dusts himself off. The wall is thick and overgrown with glow lichen, and he grabs the nearest vines and tugs one, twice, three times before deciding it won't give and hoisting up. It takes a few minutes and a fair amount of huffing and puffing to get himself to the top and over the edge but he does it, collapsing on higher ground once again and taking a minute to slow his pulse. When he left the dungeons, he dove back into the studies he’d been missing and decided he’d had enough fighting to last a lifetime—this was not without consequence, he’s not nearly as in shape as he used to be.

His sword is still on the ground where he’d dropped it, so he reequips and readies himself to push his way back out; he’d have to make time to come back and clear the rest another day. He would be back, and he hoped he would be welcomed.

“I don’t mean to disturb you,” he says into the quiet blackness of the catacombs. He doesn't dare speak above a whisper, for there were still mobs around and his voice carried enough as it was, bouncing along the empty stone and quiet graves. “I'd like to tell your story.”

There's nothing to hear but for the scuttling of various creatures far off in the dark, the shrill whistle of stray wind through small openings and holes. He raises his voice only slightly, a bit bolder. “Don’t you want me to do that? Will—would you allow me to do that?”

Silence, and then—the rattle and clatter of a skeleton. It sounds like only one; he lit everything up pretty well on his way in, getting out should be easier. Striking another torch against the wall, Pix prepares to go. For a second, the light is brighter than it should be, its circle of light illuminating the hall completely, the hole he’d fallen into, the distance to the other side. He leans back to avoid the heat of the flame, and he sees it.

The other side of the cave-in leads not to another tunnel but to an alcove, and empty it is not. His torch, though many feet away, sheds light on the scene; the heavily wax-encrusted stone above a pile of used candles and burnt wicks, the coin and other offerings of gold overflowing from bowls and chalices and any other orifice they could be piled upon, and her.

He recognizes her immediately. The tapestry covers the majority of the wall, and though it's faded for certain, the lack of direct sunlight has done wonders at preserving what it could. The colors are familiar to his research, the subtle and light greens under warm oranges and yellows. He’s too far, he cannot see any detail; the background, what she's holding, her face—but he knows her. She’s their patron.

The skeleton wanders closer, its bones clicking and clacking down the hall. Pix swallows.

“I’ll return for you, I will.” It’s a promise. She’s holding a secret, he knows she is—he’s going to figure out what. Pix turns just in time to face the skeleton as it rounds the corner, and soon its bones join those on the floor, new and old alike.

His words still echo off the caverns and crevices of the catacombs after he's left and gone, and though not possible to have been heard by human ears, the crypt whispers back good.

~-~-~-~

Far below even the hole the archeologist had fallen in, leagues underneath the surface of the earth, buried perhaps the furthest underground of anything left behind from the ancient capital—so deeply you’d have to wonder if maybe it was done on purpose—the crown sits in a chest, waiting patiently to be discovered. It’s not a matter of if, but a nice decisive and quiet when. Eventually, the echo of the archeologists' words falls upon it where it sits, and slowly it begins to emit a soft glow. It says stay, it says find, it says become, it says join.

It says soon.

#me when i dont write anything for almost an entire month and then inexplicably come back with 2000 words of pixlriffs fanficiton #all of which is completely self-indulgent #if you couldn't tell by tags on my recent reblogs and by this hey im doing so bad about pix being fucking dead and all #the blind academic...to be so invested in your work that it consumes you...#to disregard danger for the sake of being so close to what you believe is an answer #he studied the past so hard that he became it #hahahaha.#good thing he enjoys his work #because now he can never leave.#okay sorry not to write a 2000 word fic and then also write like another 300 in the tags #but also its mY POST!! GET OFF MY LAWN!! IM ALLOWED TO DO THAT! WAH IM SAD!#last thing but i have so much more to say about pixs background being his weaponless playthrough of mc dungeons. so.#someone talk to me about this /please #i lied. new last thing. now that this is out of my head :) hey :) all my fic planning is done im gonna start writing sentinel species #worm writes #empires smp #empires smp fic #empires smp fanfic #pixlriffs #pixlriffs fic #empires season 2 #esmp season 2

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