spacesparkledust

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starting a collection

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tbh in some cases calling my projects “wips” kinda feels like a joke, because it implies that it’s actually “in progress” rather than being a thing that plagues my brain every once in a while.

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Im so fucking gay i kinda wanna kiss 2 girls and a guy im friends with

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So my family has a Gay Pirate Plate.

Stay with me.

We do not know how the hell the Gay Pirate Plate was first acquired. This being a point of contention is actually pretty plot-relevant; the saga of the Gay Pirate Plate began with my grandmother and her sister, who, for some ungodly reason, both BADLY wanted the Gay Pirate Plate and believed it to be rightfully theirs.

I should back up, firstly, to establish: The Gay Pirate Plate is the cheapest, tackiest, ugliest plate in existence.

It is in no way a collector’s item. It is physically impossible for it to complement anyone’s decor, because the colors in it are garish. It’s just a ceramic plate with a gay pirate painted on it, and the painting is, this cannot be emphasized enough, extremely bad.

(How do we know the pirate is gay if he’s just posing on a plate? Listen. Fully 100% to stereotype, but he is. He is gay. There’s an energy. That pirate is a flaming homosexual. That pirate has sex with men and does it frequently. That pirate is fucking gay, all right, he just is.)

Anyway. The point is that this is an extremely cheap and ugly plate with a poorly-executed painting of pirate on it who is like a nine on the Kinsey scale.

My grandmother and her sister fought a blood feud over this plate for their entire lives. It would be on the wall in my grandma’s house, and then her sister would visit, and then it would be gone. She’d visit her sister and the plate would be on the wall and her sister would pretend it had always been there. She would steal it back, hang it up, and, when her sister visited, pretend it had always been there. This continued for DECADES.

When the sister died, the Gay Pirate Plate lived triumphantly in my grandmother’s house. And then my grandmother died. And my aunt, who had lived with her and been her carer throughout her life, rightfully inherited their house.

We visit my aunt after the funeral and stay with her for a week or two.

Me, my sister, and our dad. Her brother.

The three of us look at each other. We don’t say anything. We studiously avoid making eye contact with the Gay Pirate Plate mounted proud and ugly on the wall. We notice one another studiously avoiding looking at it. We notice one another noticing. We say nothing. We come to a silent consensus. We pack up to leave. We get in the van. Our aunt comes out to say goodbye. I loudly announce I need to use the restroom before we leave. She obviously stays outside to continue talking to my dad.

I take down the Gay Pirate Plate, stuff it under my oversized sweatshirt, go outside, and get in the van. She happily waves goodbye as we drive off.

Two days later my dad gets a phone call that opens with hysterical laughter and “You FUCKING ASSHOLE did you seriously STEAL THE PLATE–”

Anyway. The gay pirate plate lives in my dad’s house currently.

But he’s trying to get me and my sister out to visit him. And plate mounts are cheap.

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what about blorbhov from my complicated russian novel though

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every once and a while twitter is genuinely enjoyable

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me and the mutuals

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“you support gay rights so you must be gay”

i support animal rights do i look like a fucking alpaca to you

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ok so I was walking home today, and for the first time, I realized that alfred's name can be shortened to fred. I am dying.

so I offer to you

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*lays down face first in the dirt whilst dancing queen by ABBA echoes in the background and cheap LED disco lights flash in the woods*

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Obsessed with this actually

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huh

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the two parents that deeply love and care about their kids but try to protect them to the point where the kid feels overly smothered by their love and tries to create space away from them and throughout the movie the parent has to learn that apart of letting your kid grow up is allowing them to become their own person without the parent being involved in every aspect of their life subgenre 

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you know what’s a trope that never gets tired is when theyre bouncing around in the plot and suddenly an important name crops up- it’s blorbo bleebus. and some dude is like who the hell is blorbo bleebus. and we immediately cut to our new friend blorbo bleebus pulling the most absolutely buckwild shit you’ve ever seen

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Untitled.

i made a comic in google slides for some ungodly reason

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I can't read in present tense outside of a few exceptions. It just feels weird. I can only read first person if its not fanfiction. I just think that its really hard to write good firstpov bc 9/10 the writer ends up putting in some of their personality so it ends up a weird ooc mashup. If that makes sense?

A review I got today made me curious so I have to ask: what is everyone’s opinion on fics written in present tense?

#present tense and first person are two different things btw

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the fun thing about the vastness of skyrim is that every new save you make is unique in its own way! for example my current save likes to crash whenever i cross a stone bridge. i can go UNDER the bridge. or next to it. those things just do not like my gay little elf feet touching them directly