an archive

I sit on my porcelain throne (toilet) in the chapel of my home (bathroom), and the building echoes with shrieks and wails (shrieks and wails) as I exorcise my demons (two extra spicy burritos from last night)

wizard engagement is way down, what's wrong with all of you

you don't want to interact with a wizard post???

do not want to fall deeply in love with a wizard stranger??/

wizard population at war, tumblr wizard economy nosediving

no wizard engagement!

only wizard divorce TT^TT

ok but!

maybe i want to fall in love with you, have you considered that???

maybe i love shy people best and think they are cute and fun, did you even think about that? when you denied me the euphoric ideal of truly knowing you???

Great Scott! I guess I need to take a slice of humble pie this morning, because you're absolutely right!

Sometimes the fear of being known weighs on oneself but this was a good wake up call

Thank you kindly for taking the time to call me out a bit lol

Fun fact! "humble pie" is an ancient pun!

That's right! It's TANGENT TIME!

so. i'm doing this mostly off'f memry, so i mite be getting somma this wrong, but!

humble pie originated from the words "numble" (deer intestines) + "pie". y'know. like how we'd say steak pie and think nothing of it.

and, you know, "a numble pie" sounds pretty much the same as "an umble pie", dunnit? sure. why not. we have umble pies now. the fancy-ass name for this is "rebracketing", it also happened in frenche "une norenge" > "une orenge", which then got loaned into english as "an orange". funky.

for context, umble pies were massively associated with the lower classes, as they were. i don't actually know any history. cheap? i assume? anyways. they weren't exactly the poshest foods out there. and, y'know, "humble" sounds pretty damn similar to "umble", dunnit? sounds like a prime opportunity for a pun.

thanks for reading! this has been Tangent Ti- nah fuck you i'm not actually finished

rebracketing is a super fun shift. it's not just the stuff i've mentioned - it's also an umbrella term for. well. a cupple things. but another cool thing it can do is form morphemes out of basically nowhere. (morphemes are small units of meaning btw. a step below words. prime examples are "un-" or "-ize" or "-ify".)

like! for example! "hamburger" started its life out as "Hamburg" + "-er", as in, "a thing from Hamburg". It got loaned into english, and people went "oh! i know what ham is! a burger must be this funky-ass sandwich looking fella." what should i name this new hamburger-like thing? it has cheese in it. Oh! cheeseburger! what about this one? beefburger! look at that. "burger" has appeared! AND it's its own word too! magic.

anyways. i think i'm actually done now lol. there're plenny more examples here, (+ an actual decent explanation), if you're reading this then you might also enjoy fossilization or grammaticalization. thanks for reading!

this is genuinely the most interesting thing i’ve seen on reddit in several months

I am in distress

honestly “Aztec sacrifice was good” is up there with “mountains are moral objects in their own right” in discourse that makes me love Tumblr, I mean what else are you going to do, complain about the DNC on Twitter?

Is France Real? Is probably my favorite argumate discourse devolution, personally.

Wait what, I don’t remember that one

Basically it was around the question of whether or not god exists with the concession that God is just as real as Harry Potter, which is to say that Harry Potter exists in our world as a character who has moral and political influence on the people who care about him and that got a bunch of people really angry and then it devolved into “perhaps we can instead say that God is real in the way that the country of France is real, which is to say as a human construction that has a lot of power over a lot of people’s lives but that certainly didn’t exist when dinosaurs walked the earth” and then it devolve into “what are you talking about of fucking course france is real” and then it was a whole bunch of interesting conversations about reality. I tried to find the original thread but here’s a post that was part of the fallout: https://argumate.tumblr.com/post/170849377494/eightyonekilograms-oligopsoneia

France may or may not exist but croissants definitely exist and this is a pâtisserie I will die on if necessary

“borders are debatable, bread is not” is actually not bad as a philosophical foundation.

The funniest version of this is when you work in a haunted house

I was super bored one night bc we were really slow, and the animatronic that served as my cue had broken without my knowing, so I didn’t get an alert that someone was coming.

I was in the hallway singing “Peanut Butter Jelly Time” at the top of my lungs and jumping up and down in the hallway. The guy in the next hallway over was singing it with me. I don’t know what he was doing but knowing him, it was equally goofy.

So imagine being a teenager girl and her teenage boyfriend, coming down a dark and spooky hallway filled with fog, and finding a small demonic-looking thing jumping like a madman, shouting “PEANUT BUTTER JELLY TIME” at the top of its lungs with the voice of a twelve year old boy, and hearing a deep, booming voice repeating it back.

That sounds scarier than most things I’ve experienced in a haunted house to be totally honest

On my 21st day without a job, I found a key on my dresser. I did not recognise the key. It had lost its sheen, and a few spots of rust showed along the sides. Below the key, I found a folded page of crisp paper.

9, Babbit St.

The strokes of ink were clean and even, like a machine had handwritten the note.

I searched for the address on Maps, put the key in my free pocket, and headed out after breakfast of two toasts and some orange juice.

The noodle place down the street invited me with its hot, heady flavour. I tried to remember what my balance was, and halfway committed myself to getting a bowl of noddles on the way back.

Sensibility suggested using the subway, but my wallet insisted on walking to the place I had to go to. It took me forty-five minutes of walking just to get there, and I was a sweating mess by the time I was at the stoop.

The key slid in and turned perfectly. On the street, I spotted a couple of hipster-types, and a gaggle of college students with backpacks. A pair of elderly women chatted from neighbouring stoops.

I entered the house.

It was someone’s home, and lived in. I could smell the residue of whoever lived in it, like a temporary ghost. No one was in. I found ripped envelopes that told me who lived here, and framed photographs that told me how they looked. Their kitchen was tidy, but their bed wasn’t made. The bathroom looked ordinary.

I waited for an hour, two hours. The couch was comfy, and the sun crept up through thin curtains, warming up the place in the afternoon.

After I got tired of waiting, I got up and searched the bedroom more thoroughly. There, I found a sports bag in the closet with a wad of cash. I divided the cash between my wallet and free pocket, and then I left the house. I tossed the key casually, like I was disposing of trash. No one spotted me.

After I got back home, I put the money in the dresser, said a quiet prayer, and carried on with my day. For the first time in 21 days, I did not go looking for jobs.

The next day, I found two keys on my dresser, and two addresses beneath them. I read them both and looked them up. They were at the same distance from my place, but different directions.

The handwriting was the same as last time: precise, thin, and even. I smudged the ink under a thumb, just a bit.

After breakfast, I returned to the dresser and tried to pick a destination. I could probably hit both places within the day, if I wanted to. So naturally, I took both keys, and I saved the addresses on my Maps app.

This time, I wouldn’t need to go walking. I didn’t even need to take the subway, I could actually afford a taxi with the money I’d got the day before.

I opened the dresser to pull out my wallet.

The money from yesterday was all gone.

“forgetting things sometimes is not such a big deal” a foolish neurotypical 

Things People With ADHD can Forget About: 

Thanks for putting it in words

@liamlovesecho here for you and me

I had like 4 things to add to this list but then I took a sip of water and forgot them all

[id: a meme depicting a person with a disbelieving expression. It is subtitled, "Wait, you guys are (remembering to drink water?) " with the words in parentheses being ones that have been edited in to replace whatever was there previously. end id]

me: *takes a long swig from a flask i was carrying in my purse* barkeep: ma'am no outside drinks are permitted me, hoarsely: this is flour

My only real and valid writing tip is that you google every word you make up for your fantasy stories. That’s It

I feel like there’s a story behind this.

OKAY BUT LISTEN, THIS IS IMPORTANT, BECAUSE I HAVE A HILARIOUS STORY TO PROVE IT.  

So here I am, writing a Familiar!Verse for Shadowhunters, do dee do, no issues, but I hate coming up with names and I am notorious for just making it up as I go along, right?  I’d watched Brave a few days ago, so when the time came for me to name Magnus’ raven?  I basically mixed up Merida’s name and came up with Mierda.  

This caused ENDLESS amounts of hilarity when I shared a snippet on a discord server, with someone who happens to speak, YOU KNOW.  SPANISH.  

Why is this relevant?  

Because “Mierda” which sounds pretty and wonderful to my not-even-in-the-slightest bilingual ass, means “Shit”.  So, I had Magnus name his familiar “shit”. 

I was about to change it, when instead, the person who’d pointed it out said that they wanted to know the reason behind why he’d named her that.  And that I should keep it as a bit of an in-joke for people who’d notice.  (Based on comments, lots of people noticed and that makes me SO happy.) 

So now there’s an adorable little background story that didn’t make it into the fic where Magnus names her that because he used to hang around a market when he was a kid, and there was a man there who spoke Spanish who’d always give him the slightly-overripe pieces of fruit he had left over for no charge.  So Magnus named his familiar after a word the man used often, but that sounded very pretty to him, even if he didn’t know what it meant.  

ONLY TO FIND OUT LATER - and have it be this thing that he’s made up a hundred stories for, because he’s Magnus, but yes, that’s the truth.  

SO YEAH.  GOOGLE THE SHIT YOU MAKE UP, OKAY?  IT’S IMPORTANT. 

Why do Goblins have to eat trash? Why can’t goblin cuisine simply have a strong emphasis on fermentation and controlled spoilage?

Like fermentation stinks to high heaven and you typically hide it away in dark and cool places. It fits lore wise for a creature that lives in a cave and is described as unclean.

Anyway this has been food for thought

every culture has their ethnic donut and every culture has their ethnic dumpling… humans be frying dough

Every culture also makes a sword. If they got metal they make a sword, if they don’t have metal they take obsidian or shark teeth or whatever it is that they’ve got and they make that into a sword.

Coincidence? I think not.

2 constants in all civilizations:

World building tip: the bare bones of all civilizations are fried dough and sharp things.

The fae smiled, sharply: “Give me your name, child.”

“Uhhhhh. Stick.”

“What.”

“Does Leaf work better? I’m just kinda looking around this clearing. Look, I’m trans, I haven’t decided on one yet, I’m throwing some spaghetti at the wall, you know how it is.”

Not to be gay on main.... But all I want is to live in a small medieval town. I'm the town baker. My bakery is my home and I'm always wearing an apron and covered in flour.

Nextdoor is a forge, and I am very close with the blacksmith that works there. Every morning I bring him a freshly baked loaf of bread. As I hand it to him our hands touch briefly. His hands are rough, yet they're so careful and gentle with everything he touches. I secretly want him to be that gentle with me.

One day, he walks into my bakery, he's still sweaty from the intense heat of the forge. In his hands is a small dagger in it's sheath. He hands it to me and tells me it's to protect myself if needed.

I take the dagger out of it's sheath. It's beautifully made. There are intricate designs engraved into the metal. It's so much more complicated than anything else yeah blacksmith has ever made. It must've been so time consuming to make.

I look up at him and with just one look I understand why he's giving it to me. With one look we both understand that we love each other. He leans in and kisses me. It's so soft and sweet, and gentle.

He comes by every day to get a loaf of bread and kiss me. We keep our relationship a secret. And everyone wonders why neither of us have found wives. But we know exactly why. And we're completely content with being secret lovers.

Is that really too much to ask?

[id: the image is of a person with their eyes closed and head tilted slightly to the side covering most of their face with their hand. It is subtitled, "hold on a second. Man, hold on a second."

The gif shows two people staring at each other intensely as a third person leans in behind them and says with a smile, "Y'all are hella specific." end id.]

absolutely nothing should be sold for a profit if its absence can kill you.

water shouldn’t be sold for a profit.

food shouldn’t be sold for a profit.

healthcare shouldn’t be sold for a profit.

any system where people can die because they’re unable to access these resources needs to be dismantled.

Taako was freaking out. No, he hadn't told anyone- and no, he wasn't planning on it. It was a few days before the trio had to go out to do some BOB management planet side (honestly, Madade Lucretia wouldn't tell thel all the details and Magnus was worried she would blast them with some magic if they didn't stop asking.)

They were packed, they had their nicest outfits ready to go, there was no reason to be worried. Except Angus was sick. He had the fantasy flu- and though Taako bought some fantasy Nyquil and Dayquil, the kid was still sick.

So, Taako was freaking out.

He was bustling around the kitchen, torn between not wanting to ever cook for someone again and wanting to ensure Angus got better.

His hair was pulled back into a messy bun- pieces frizzing and flying out. He was wearing makeup, but the sheen of sweat was visible to the naked eye.

So Magnus stepped forward. "Taako, you know that Carey and Killian and Johann can make some soup for Ango, right? You don't have to if you don't want to."

Taako let out a small huff through his nose, minimum sound, maximum attitude. His ears were pointing back, almost pressed flat against his head. "Who said I didn't want to? I'm fine kemosabe."

Magnus sighed, and Merle watched the two from his seat on a bar stool. "Taako, he's gonna be fine."

"Course he will be!" He turned and the two stared at each other for a moment, "Agnus' is a strong kid. Smart."

"Right..." Magnus watched Taako begin to twiddle with the edge of his apron strings, "Why not just...bring him some water? He's probably not super hungry- just some saltines and water would be good."

Taako nodded. "Right right. Saltines and water," Magnus turned to grab a glass from the top shelf, "The - "

"Driest and wettest sickness combo." Magnus finished with Taako, hardly recognizing he spoke with Taako as the two moved almost in sync to grab what they needed.

Taako paused, and Magnus didn't even notice. "How do you know that phrase?"

"What?"

Merle scratched at his beard, "Yeah- sounds like some shit I said to my kids before."

"You know it too?"

Merle nodded, and Taako huffed. "And here I was thinking I came up with an original phrase when I was a kid- some shit that made me laugh."

Merle laughed. "Tough luck kid- you ain't that original."

Magnus twirled a bit around Taako, as the latter grabbed a amall plate to put the crackers on. Without question, Magnus grabbed an apple to go with the crackers. "To keep the doctors away."

Taako nodded, grabbing the cup and plate before leaving, heading to Angus' dorm from the Bureau Kitchen- the moom BK Merle dubbed it.

As the door shut Merle turned to Magnus. "How'd you know he was upset?"

"Huh?"

"He seemed to be acting normal to me."

"His ears- they weren't normal. And he was more fidgety than normal. And he only acted like that when- " He trailed off, mind going fuzzy. When what?

"When what, Mags?"

"Huh? Oh- dunno. Guess it's my rustic hospitality."

"Jesus fucking Christ."

The two continued bickering, conversation dropped and forgotten. Outside the door, however, the conversation was still in the front mind of one person.

He only acted like that when Lup died one of the years. Lucretia wanted to scream, He only acted like that when someone he loves was in trouble or hurt or gone. And you, Magnus, learned how to tell his signs and comfort him!

She covered her mouth as thoughts and memories played in her mind.

God, she asked herself again, teary eyes looking up, hand over her heart, what had she done to them?

Heir: I’m off to fight God does anyone want anything?

Heir: Sorry everyone, God didn’t drop anything worthwhile, only soup.

Seer: What do you mean, there’s ONLY  S O U P ?

Heir: It means he only DROPPED SOUP.

Seer: Well get out of the INCREASED SOUP DROP RATE universe!

Heir: ALRIGHT YOU DON’T HAVE TO SHOUT AT ME, I’LL GO KILL ANOTHER GOD

Heir: The other God ALSO dropped soup??

Seer: what do you mean the other god also dropped soup????

Heir: It means I killed him and he only dropped soup!

Seer: GO INTO THE NEXT UNIVERSE

Heir: NO MATTER HOW MUCH I TRY TO FARM FOR RARE ITEMS, THE GODS KEEP DROPPING SOUP!

Seer: WHERE ARE YOU?!!

Heir: I’M FIGHTING THE PRIMORDIAL SOUP GODS!

Seer: WHY ARE YOU FIGHTING THE PRIMORDIAL SOUP GODS???

Heir: FUCK YOU!!!!