devot

highly recommend putting on classic Backstreet Boys and *NSYNC while making dinner and just singing that shit and dancing around the kitchen because who the fuck cares anymore

i would like to formally apologize to everyone who ever left me a lovely comment on ao3 during my dunmesh era. i replied to like zero of them because of the horrors you see.

i am making an effort to change; i hope someday i can post another dunmesh fic and say as much

the fact that they made a playmobil movie and it apparently sucks is such a personal attack on me directly

is there such a thing as a 90s club? I've never really been to a club but I would change that in a second if I could just jam out to the albums I had as a kid

why did i start evangelion so late on a work night

you know what, fuck it, I need to watch evangelion

time travel is my favorite genre to write, it's so stupid

lost a subscriber after posting the new chapter and i'm kind of laughing about it to be honest. oh shit canon plot point, fuck this noise i'm out

(i've been getting some spam comments though so i wonder if it was just a bot account or something)

you can pry em dashes from my cold dead hands; this is the hill i will die on. i will never stop. i will never surrender. AI can kiss my ass on this one, forever, full-stop, until the end of time.

saw someone claiming that using em dashes was "typing with an AI accent" and I will actually burn the internet to the ground i am not even joking

Steven out on a rowboat on stormy sea, turning to look up at a towering titan of endless limbs, a corrupted garnet with three glowing eyes on a rounded cube of a head silhouetted in the storm's flashes of lightning.

#StevenUniverse #Garnet

Steven watches in horror from the top of his stairs as a corrupted Amethyst, bestial in form with a whip-like gem-studded tail, sits on his bed tearing apart one of his toys--Mr. Queasy to be specific.

#StevenUniverse #Amethyst

Steven cringing beneath the patio table of the Big Donut, as Pearl, corrupted and taking a form reminiscent of a crane, looms beside the structure.

#StevenUniverse #Pearl

and I could feel a certain way about the things you used to say (but as I said, I've moved on)

listening to phantom love on repeat and fantasizing about writing something super cathartic for me

mentally wringing steven between my hands like this until there's nothing left of him

steven sketch page #StevenUniverse

hell yeah brother #stevenuniverse

there's something to be said for that being a fine default assumption to make, but the su movie straight up hangs a lampshade on it, making the argument that it's just acknowledged "canon" that the songs Actually Happen

i like to think the singing happens in-universe in steven universe. they live in this magical world where the power of song and dance compels all living things to participate in a musical number together

hey you, show me that solvable problem--we can get through this, I'll do the hardest part with you

steven universe heal my heart the way you healed all those gems

what if I just got hardcore back into Steven Universe for no apparent reason; what then

golden country, my piece for dungeon meshi cookbook zine!

#dunmeshi

should be illegal that wireless headphones have to charge. i shouldn't have to be subjected to the world for a single second that isn't voluntary.

there was more but i don't know basically i guess the point is i just don't vibe with being mean for the sake of being mean. i like it better when reviewers are able to find some joy in the thing they are reviewing, and i don't think love actually is so irredeemable that there's NO joy to be found.

I don't think it's a /good/ movie, don't get me wrong, but searching for a way to belittle every single plot point and throw the whole thing in the garbage just feels kind of gross to me. hating on the kid who has a crush on his classmate because he's "too serious" about it is just mean spirited.

anyway i was watching a video review of love actually (which i have not seen recently but i have seen multiple times in the past) where the reviewer was EXTREMELY cynical and mean about how the movie flounders with its message. and man, i just don't know.

been watching a lot of film and tv lately (and youtube reviews of said film and tv) and instead of subjecting my friends to every inane thought i have maybe i should just post them here

Look at my horse

"There are three kinds of magic," said Wizzler, handing us each a balloon. "You can control tigers, you can shoot tornadoes from your fingers, or you can fly by holding your breath. The color of confetti inside your balloon will reveal which kind of power you have." I felt the panic rising in me. What if my confetti turned yellow, indicating that I was a Tiger-Talker? My family, a long line of proud Tornado-Fingers, would disown me. Could I ever return home, bearing such shame? I tried to calm myself as I readied the ceremonial safety pin. Green, I thought, willing my hopes into reality. Please be green. I popped the balloon, involuntarily shutting my eyes. When I opened them, would I see the green I hoped for? The yellow I feared? What if, gods forbid, the confetti were blue? I opened my eyes, seeing shock on the faces of my classmates. Wizzler himself stared at me, wide-eye. Looking down, I saw myself covered in confetti... purple confetti.

“I don’t understand,” I growled, my body trembling with pain. “I combined eighty percent Earth-elemental mana with twenty percent Fire-elemental mana (Type B), focused through a twenty-four-sided icositetragon made of yellow topaz. This, in conjunction with my blood type, star sign, sense of humor, and nickname, should have produced a blazing column of lightning to vaporize my enemies. Instead, it made a big bubble that smells like fresh laundry. Why?” Skullgrumbler began to laugh. “You fool! You don’t even realize…” he squealed. “You’re facing east!”

“It’s whatever you want,” explained Magemaster Grampledog. “Magic is just whatever you want.” I knew he was speaking in riddles, but I couldn’t grasp his hidden meaning. “So the rules are…” Grampledog lit a sliver of smokereed. “No rules. You say some words and you wave a stick and whatever you want just happens. You don’t even need the stick.” His wisdom still eluded me. I stared into his face, trying to decipher what he was really saying. “No, listen.” Grampledog snapped his fingers and his desk turned into a pile of chicken nuggets. “I didn’t even know that would happen.” His hat then came alive and began to yodel. “It’s pandemonium,” he explained. “It’s complete nonsense.”

In my experience there are three kinds of fantasy magic novels: